Page 63 of The Wrong Bride
“I’m glad.”
But as they headed into the castle, Riona continued to wonder if there was more to the story about Maggie and Owen. Apparently the Duffs and the McCallums were connected in more ways than one . . .
“Let me teach ye Gaelic,” Maggie suddenly said.
Startled, Riona eyed her.
“I saw how difficult it was for ye last night,” Maggie continued. “Ye have Hugh or Samuel to translate, of course, but wouldn’t ye like to be able to understand some of it on your own?”
“I would,” Riona said slowly, her certainty growing. “It is a kind offer I gladly accept.”
Maggie clapped her hands together. “Good. I know not how long we’ll be here, but I’ll helpas much as I can.” She twined her arm through Riona’s. “This will be fun. I’ve always wanted a sister!”
Riona’s “fun” drained away with those words.
THATafternoon, a tailor arrived from Stirling to make Riona several gowns. All of it had been arranged for by Hugh, and both Lady McCallum and Maggie loved reminding Riona of his thoughtfulness. And itwasthoughtful, she knew. Over the next two days, Riona posed for fittings and learned Gaelic words for basic items around the household. Maggie discovered Riona could play the spinet, begged her to play for Lady McCallum, only to make the older woman cry. Maggie privately confessed that her mother’s melancholy was growing worse with every year, but her mother wouldn’t speak of the reason for it. Riona privately thought it was something more than her estrangement with Hugh—although maybe it was related.
On the third day since Hugh’s departure, Riona decided to ride to the village with Maggie and Samuel and call upon the Rosses. Samuel had acquiesced easily, and Maggie was excited to meet up with all the villagers she hadn’t seen in a while.
As they rode past the alehouse, Riona was happy to see the elder Mrs. Ross sitting outside, watching her grandchildren play. She smiled upon seeing Riona and rose to her feet unassisted.
“Lady Riona,” the old woman cried, waving. “Look at me, outside with the wee bairns.”
Riona and Maggie dismounted and came to sit with her, while Samuel disappeared into the alehouse on the pretext of looking for Donald.
Before long, Maggie was telling Mrs. Ross about the musical gifts Riona had honed entertaining her sister, and a blushing Riona was asked to sing for the children. Three songs later, a little crowd of women and children and the elderly, those who hadn’t gone on the hunt, had formed around her, seated on rocks and tufts of grass. Mrs. Ross was beaming as if she’d taught Riona herself.
It felt . . . strange and rather wonderful to have so many fresh, upturned faces look upon her with happiness. The usual wary suspicion of her as a Duff or a Sassenach seemed gone, even if only for a little while. Or perhaps they were coming to accept her as their chief’s future wife. But that was a stab of pain she put aside. This life was not hers but Cat’s, and though that seemed more and more bittersweet, Riona had never been one to live in a fantasy. But she tried to enjoy the moment, and take comfort in being admired for a skill she’d worked hard to perfect.
And then there was a shout from the hillside above the village, and a young man came stumbling over the crest, falling to his knees and lurching back to his feet. He shouted something inGaelic, and the crowd surged apart as if lightning had struck directly in the center.
Though Riona knew only a few words of Gaelic now, Maggie had taught her these: cattle thieves. Maggie translated the gasping boy’s account of six men stealing away dozens of cattle. Then she and Maggie practically flew to their horses, where Samuel met them.
“Do you know where Hugh and the gentlemen are?” Riona demanded.
“Aye, they send missives every day, along with all the carcasses of the beasts they’ve killed.”
“Then take word to him about the raid. He’ll need to know.”
Solemn, Samuel nodded, mounted his horse, and headed uphill, away from the village, away from the castle.
Riona watched him go, then accompanied Maggie back to Larig to await Hugh.
CHAPTER 17
Hugh returned by mid afternoon to find preparations already being made to leave at dawn to take back their cattle. Riona awaited him in the great hall, looking concerned. Then her expression altered with determination when she saw the men following him, wearing haphazard bandages.
“Mrs. Wallace,” she called, “I need your help!”
Hugh watched in surprise as Riona, Maggie, and Mrs. Wallace tended to the mild injuries sustained by his men—a gash from a dirk through a man’s hand, a sprained ankle, and a musket ball through an arm when another man had wandered in the way of a hunter’s shot.
Riona worked with a kind efficiency that surprised him. He was so used to her reluctance and wariness that he sometimes forgot she hadn’t always needed to be that way. She knew people’snames now, and he could have sworn he heard her use a word or two of hesitant Gaelic. She seemed like the mistress of the household—like his wife.
It was some time before he realized his mother wasn’t with the other women, and then only as an afterthought. It had been ten years since she’d betrayed him, ten years of her condemning silence. He’d grown used to putting her out of his mind, and it was still very easy to do.
Dermot came to let him and Alasdair know what had happened, that the Buchanans had used the absence of the hunting men for their raid. Dermot’s tone grew cooler as he said, “I could have handled this, of course, for there were enough men for a chase, but Lady Riona alerted ye without consulting me.”
“She was simply concerned for our property and people,” Hugh said mildly. “’Tis better if we give them a show of force since I’m the new chief. I’ll lead the party myself.”
