Page 52 of Bride of the Wicked Laird
“So, where daes the story take us from there?”
“There seemed tae be many threads, each one differing somewhat from the other. Although the heart of the story regarding his lost love, the Lady Sorcha Comyn, stayed more or less the same nay matter who was telling it.
“One of the threads concerned his wedding tae a silkie who had left him and gone back tae the sea, another story was that he had wed another lass who died, leaving a daughter who was claimed by her family and that he searched endlessly fer her.” Everard lifted his head at the mention of the lost daughter.
“Is there aught else?”
“Och. There is more. Another story had him returning tae his first love and begging her tae run away wi’ him, but she refused as she already had a wee son to Murchadh and wouldnae leave the lad.”
“And that is the end of the man’s story?”
MacIver shrugged. “That’s all I ken of his lovers or of his weddings or his lost daughter. All agreed that he spent years fighting with the French against the English, and then fought with our King Robert. These days, he divides his time between the royal court and his home island.”
Both Maxwell and Everard grew pensive. “So, after all, we dinnae ken why the lad was at Castle Bay and why he was asking about our family.”
Everard scratched his head. There was something about the story that had grabbed his attention, something that had the ring of truth to it.
He got to his feet. “I am most grateful tae ye, master MacIver, and fer yer time and the effort ye’ve made fer us.” He reached to the shelf above the fireplace and took down a strong steel box from which he extracted several gold coins and handed them one-by-one to MacIver. The man’s smile widened as the coins jangled in his hands.
“I trust this will be recompense fer yer valuable time and the coin ye’ve spent on our behalf.”
MacIver took out a small leather purse and put the coins into it. “I bid ye good day, milords, and thank ye.”
When McIver opened the door, Ranald Dunbar was waiting to take him to the crews’ house, where there were several of the crew who were old friends. He would sail for Skye on one of Everard’s birlinns and be home at Scalpay in a day or so.
After MacIver had departed, Everard and Maxwell resumed their seats, each taking another splash of whisky.
“What d’ye make of that?” Maxwell asked.
“There are several things that occur tae me. First, and mayhap the most important, is that the man is nay friend tae Murchadh MacKinnon. Men who are rivals in love are ne’er friends. Especially if they are kin.”
“Of course. The lass he loved married Murchadh, poor wee lass. What else have ye concluded?”
“There was talk of him seeking a lost daughter. Mayhap when he accosted Davina, he believed she might be that daughter.”
Maxwell nodded. “Aye. If he’d heard of her rescue and that she was brought tae Barra, it might have led him tae think that.” He looked at Everard quizzically. “Ye saw the man, was there a likeness tae the lass?”
Everard thought this through, recalling the brief glimpse he’d had of the Laird Dùghall at the market in Castle Bay. “I didnae see his face. All I can say is that he is tall, his hair was grey, and I was nae aware of resemblance tae Davina.”
“But if sheishis daughter, who is her maither?”
“I am awaiting word from the tinker who is tasked with enquiring at Iona. He may yet shed some light on things. If wecould but discover who it was who brought her tae the convent when she was a child, that may give us a direction tae search fer her parentage.”
“And in the meanwhile, ye’ll say naught tae Davina of yer musings.”
“These are fanciful musings, and until such time as we have more information leading us tae the truth, I intend saying naught of this tae her. Yet this makes me more concerned fer her safety. We must guard her well.” He rose to his feet. “Now, ‘tis time we joined yer lady and Mistress Davina tae take our supper.”
As they walked toward the solar, Everard’s mind was swirling with the story he had heard. He had a strong suspicious now, that Dùghall MacKinnon was, in fact, Davina’s father. Yet there was nothing but idle gossip and his own intuition leading him to that conclusion.
All he knew for certain, was that he could scarcely wait to see her again and to, somehow, ask her to forgive his churlish behavior when he’d seized her in his embrace and ravished her lips with his kiss.
And yet, he longed to take her in his arms again, and kiss her as he’d done this afternoon.
He took a deep breath as they approached the door of the solar. Mayhap she would hate him for his transgression.
However, when they entered the solar, Davina’s beaming smile allayed his fears and she took his breath away with her beauty.
He scooped up the wee Feather, who ran across the room to him as he entered. She immediately perched on his shoulder, purring loudly. He laughed, catching the faintest hint of roses.
