Rinalda came and sat near her, her voice dipped, “Are ye all right?”
“No,” Mary whispered, “Why does Fiona hate me so much?”
Her hand was taken and two palms closed over it, “Ah, Mary, ye dinnae ken and I dinnae want to tell ye but it’s common knowledge, she wants to be with Young Lenichton…intimately. He hasnae shown her any attention though she still tries. Now, yer here and he has shown ye more attention than she has been given in five years, so she is angry and jealous.”
Somehow, Mary should have suspected something like that. A woman scorned was not one to take lightly. If Fiona was smearing her name, and leaving a heap of stinking dung on her sheets, who was to say that she was not the one behind the note?
Soberly, Mary sighed out, “I never thought I’d be in this position.”
“What?” Rinalda’s hushed voice took on a teasing note while she felt an elbow being jabbed in her side, “Being loved by a Highlander?”
“Being loved by anyone, to be honest,” Mary admitted as she looked around the darkened room and hearing the soft murmurs from the sleeping bodies.
“Being loved by a Highlander is not anything to be ashamed about,” Rinalda hugged her close. “Be assured, ye will never find another man who is as protective or loyal as he is. He will protect ye to his dying day.”
“I know he will…” Mary said as she stood and went over to her cot. She shot an apprehensive look over to where Fiona lay, If I’m here, that is.
26
It had been a long while since Leith had been up on the parapets of his home. It was the afternoon of his father’s celebration dinner and he was anxious. His mind was running. If it had legs, his mind would probably have made it to Edina, circled to Glasgae and then taken the mountain pass back home—twice.
The day was cool and the sky had not a cloud in it. His eye took to the mountain that rose in majestic splendor behind his home. The tip was thinly covered by wisps of clouds and sunlight was flickering down on the land below benignly.
His pensive eyes then went down to the road that led to the castle. In a few hours, people would be flocking that dirt lane, coming in droves to see the newly sane Laird. Last night when he had gone to visit his father to check that all was well, he looked in to see his sire asleep on the bed.
He had even stayed a while to prove to himself that it truly was his father, back in his right mind. Aaron had not moved one inch and Leith was beginning to feel it was unnatural but dismissed it. Perhaps his father was just too tired.
When he had finally gone off to bed—a cold empty one as Mary was not in it—he had barely gotten any sleep. He knew worry was not logical, as, in the days past, his father had shown him that he was getting stronger, physically and mentally.
Bracing himself on the rough stone wall, he felt the wind tug at his formal clothes. He wore his blue-and-green plaid proudly, secured with a brilliant blue jeweled brooch at his shoulder. He stayed put until he saw the streams of people coming up the hillside and music began to play.
Dusk was growing and the pinpricks of the stars began to present themselves at the horizon. A frosty bite of wind reminded him that winter was soon to come and so far up in the Highlands, it was always bitterly cold. He chuckled at the memory of his seven-year-old self, waking to a numb nose as he had left his window open that night.
Raking a hand through his hair, Leith took the steps down to the sentries’ inner gate and then went to the great hall. He briefly thought of Mary and felt agitated. No matter how he dug, he still had not found out who had sent her the note. Moreover, he had gotten word that the lochs to Edina were overflowing. This meant that his trip to find out exactly how deep Cooper had sunk his claws into ripping him out of his rulership had to be put on hold.
He got to the great hall as it was filling in, greeting those he knew as he went along. The peoples’ spirits were high and servants were doling out drinks by the trayful. He stepped onto the dais where the high table sat and looked around, spotting Mary once or twice but she kept slipping back into the kitchens. He then trained his eyes on the staircase where his parents would be coming down.
When he saw them enter, his mother in her plaid and holding his father’s hand, a deafening cry arose from the crowd, and by their happy faces, he knew they truly loved his father.
His heart felt light as Aaron climbed onto the dais and sat in the middle throne-like seat accompanied by cheers of joy. Clad in his formal plaid, his dark hair was combed, and his face calm but Leith spotted a strange look in his eye.
Is Faither worrying? Is he afraid that his people would reject him again?
Aaron was looking around but a strange tick was making his jaw jump. Ignoring it for a while, Leith gestured for the music to die and when it was gone, so did the chatter. He spoke, loud enough that his voice carried to each corner of the room.
“As I’m sure ye heard months ago, me Faither took ill,” he paused to search the faces and all of them were dim, “Very ill, to a grievous stage where we kent he would never recover but
