Page 61 of The Wrong Bride
Riona’s own smile was tight, and she broke apart a loaf of bread in her hands. When they all found out that Hugh had left behind the correct bride,that he’d jeopardized the contract, the dowry—but especially the land—she didn’t know what would happen.
But she had something to accomplish before this revelation, a decision she’d made that could have consequences for everyone involved. She wasn’t backing down.
“Do you think your mother would like to walk outside with us?” Riona asked. “It might do her good to have fresh air. And there’s a bit of sun between the clouds.”
“A wonderful idea. I’ll ask her.”
Riona half expected Lady McCallum to decline, but within a half hour, she came downstairs with Maggie, her lace cap as wilted as her spirits.
Riona kept their pace through the courtyard slow, and she encouraged Lady McCallum with questions about how things had been done in the past. An occasional servant greeted them, with good cheer for Maggie, and with more reserve for the chief’s widow. Riona kept them moving steadily, through the archway that led to the lower courtyard. There were a few gentlemen left in residence, and none on the training yard, but she could see watchmen on the battlements and grooms moving about within the stables. Most of the horses would be gone, and she’d heard Hugh give explicit instructions for a thorough cleaning.
There was Hamish the terrier, tied up outside,and Riona took a deep breath in relief and expectation.
Maggie practically squealed and dropped to her knees. “How adorable ye are, wee little doggie.”
“His name’s Hamish, and he’s not always friendly—”
But Hamish put his little paws on Maggie’s thighs and would have licked her face if he could have reached.
“I guess I’m the only one he doesn’t like,” Riona said dryly.
Hamish glanced at her but refrained from growling.
“Why is the creature tied?” Lady McCallum asked, her voice already filled with fatigue though the day had barely begun. “I see other dogs running loose.”
“Only the elderly, who couldn’t go on the hunt,” Maggie said.
“Hugh has given him to one of the grooms to care for,” Riona explained. “The boy’s name is—”
But she got no farther, for Brendan came out of the shadow of the stables and eyed them all with interest. His thin body, bony with the promise of future strength, already looked as if his shirtsleeves were too short.
“Afternoon, Lady Riona,” he said warily.
Lady McCallum gasped, and her pale face drained of any remaining color. Riona tensed incase she had to support her during a swoon. But except for laying a hand on her daughter’s arm, she seemed to right herself.
“Good day, Brendan,” Riona said pleasantly. “This is the chief’s mother, Lady McCallum, and his sister, Mistress Maggie.”
Brendan seemed to stiffen, but he eyed the two women boldly.
“You are Brendan McCallum, grandson of Claire?” Lady McCallum asked, her voice slow and measured.
Brendan nodded, even as Hamish jumped and put his front paws on Brendan’s leg. “Aye, my lady. Ye know my granny?”
“I do,” Lady McCallum answered, “or I used to, before ye were born.”
Riona studied Lady McCallum—was she this boy’s granny, too?
Maggie regarded Brendan with bright-eyed interest. “Are ye not young to be working at the castle, Brendan?”
The boy shrugged and scratched the floppy fur on Hamish’s head. “I like it. Granny doesn’t need me so much anymore. She’s hired a cotter to help with the grain and our cows.”
Who was paying for that? Riona wondered. But she thought she knew, and it made her feel a little better.
“How nice that ye bring your dog,” Maggie added.
“Himself gave it to me.” And now Brendan seemed to be watching them.
Lady McCallum frowned, and Maggie glanced at her uncertainly.
