“Here’s water,” said Mairi, taking the bucket over to the hearth.
“Oh, you’re here, Mairi,” said Nannie.
“Mairi?” said Aedan, having only just noticed her. “Mairi Dunbar?” His wide smile lit up his face.
Mairi’s jaw dropped. “Aedan?”
Mairi’s smile softened her features. Aedan and the woman who was once his sweetheart stepped closer together, almost embraced, then shook hands instead. She saw the faint flush of colour in Mairi’s cheeks, coupled with a look of confusion.
“What’s wrong with Donnan?” Kaetha asked Nannie, in a low voice so that he wouldn’t hear.
“I can’t be sure,” said Nannie. “Which is most unlike me.” She sighed. “It’s not the first time he’s been like this. Encourage him to eat and get him to drink all of this. It will strengthen him.”
Kaetha turned her attention to Aedan and Mairi’s conversation. “I make the rent with my washing, mending and spinning,” said Mairi. “I’ve even done a bit of net mending for the Morays and farm work for Ishbel Urquhart too now and then.”
“Dermid’s still fishing then?”
“Oh, aye. Spends most of his life on that boat. He’s got three young’uns now. I say young’uns, but the oldest would be seventeen I reckon.”
Nannie leaned closer to Kaetha. “Mairi found Donnan on the streets, with nowhere to go, you know.”
“But, of course,” said Mairi in a low voice, overhearing Nannie, “now that you’re back here, we can find somewhere else for Donnan. He could stay at my house if he wanted.”
“He should stay here. He needs us,” said Kaetha, looking over at Donnan, hoping that he couldn’t hear them discuss him like this. “Pa?”
Mairi looked at her in surprise, then at Aedan.
“He can stay,” said Aedan. “If he likes.”
“I didn’t know,” said Mairi, “that you have a daughter. It shows how it’s been so long since you were here.”
“And, do you have children? asked Aedan.
“No,” she said, stroking the dog behind its ears.
That night, Kaetha lay on a new straw mattress, breathing in the comforting fragrance of fresh rushes and strewing herbs, watching the cat prowling, ready to catch any rodents that got in. Donnan was sleeping heavily at last, his fever gone.
“Pa?” she said.
“Aye?”
She plunged into her question before she could persuade herself not to. “When we were at the inn, why did you say my last name was ‘Baird’?”
“I thought it would be easiest – raise fewer questions about us – if we seemed to be an ordinary father and daughter.”
Kaetha was quiet for a while, taking that in. “I see. It’s alright. I’m used to not having a family name.” She pushed down a wave of emotion that swelled within her, threatening to tighten her throat. “I used to be an orphan, Gwyn and Morwena’s ward. Then I became a bastard.”
“Don’t call yourself that,” he said firmly. “My name is yours if you want to take it. You could be a Baird after all.”
She was quiet, blinking back tears. A family name meant acceptance and belonging. But did Aedan really want her to be a Baird? How far could she trust him? What if he had known that her mother had been pregnant and still left her? What if he had broken her trust?
“You can think about it,” he said. “It’s your decision to make.”
In the silence that followed, Kaetha felt the warm nudge of the cat’s head on her arm and the brush of his tail as he curled up beside her. He needs a name, she thought.
“We’ll call the cat Kintail,” she said.
Aedan laughed. “Kintail Baird.”
NINE
Cannasay
“The bell’s been ringing for an age. Where’ve you been?” said Kaetha as Donnan appeared from an alleyway on Curing Street, racing up to her.
“Nowhere,” he replied, catching his breath.
She raised her eyebrows but he revealed nothing else about what he’d been doing. “Been seeing a lass, I suppose,” she said, grinning.
“No I haven’t,” he exclaimed. “Why would you think that?”
She shrugged.
“We should get going.”
They set off, chatting as they meandered downhill, through the town. “And that’s the best tavern for ale in all of Mormuin,” said Donnan, gesturing to his left. “Or so Donalt Brewer would have you believe.”
“Don’t you doubt it,” called the man locking up the tavern door.
Donnan laughed and Kaetha liked the way it made the skin around his eyes crinkle. It reminded her of Archie. It was good to see him smiling. His strength had returned over the last couple of days and he was able to take to his role of town guide with enthusiasm. “I’ll buy you a tankard after the announcement if you like.” He reached into his pocket but looked disappointed.
“Some other day,” said Kaetha, knowing he had little money. She linked her arm through his as they continued, the street growing busier with people now, all heading to the beach. “That’s Ishbel Urquhart,” he said, nodding towards a grey-haired, wiry looking woman who was yelling at a man, saying how she wouldn’t buy any more goats from him. “She runs her late husband’s farm – offers plenty of work at harvest time, and that’s Alan Sangster there.” A young man with long, golden hair and a confident stride hummed as he passed them, a small harp and a fiddle strapped to his back. “He travels about the whole clanland with his songs.” The cliff edge grew closer.
“How do we get down to the beach?” asked Kaetha.
“It’s hidden from view here but there’s a path cut into the cliff.
