Page 36 of Unforgotten
Duncan frowned. He didn’t like Drew asking questions, yet his sister had a mind like a whetted blade. “Ours isn’t the only territory where brigands attack travelers and outlaws raid villages … they too will want the lawlessness dealt with.”
He shifted his attention to the spread of food before him: a large platter of bannocks and pots of butter and honey. Taking a wedge of the large flat cake made with oatmeal and cooked upon an iron griddle, Duncan spread it with a generous amount of butter. He was reaching for the pot of heather honey when he felt someone’s gaze upon him.
It wasn’t his sister watching him this time, but his wife.
Duncan cast the dark-haired woman seated opposite an irritated look. “What is it, Siusan?”
“When is this meeting?” she asked, her voice low and soft.
Duncan had always liked the sound of Siusan Campbell’s voice. Unfortunately, these days it was theonlything he did like about her. Since she’d gotten with child, she’d lost her looks. Her body had bloated, her face was blotchy, and her once dark hair had become limp. As soon as her belly had started to swell, he’d lost all desire for her.
“Two days hence,” he replied curtly. “Why?”
Siusan put a hand to her swollen belly, shifting in her seat with a grimace. “The bairn is coming soon, husband … I can feel it.”
Duncan shrugged. “And?”
Siusan gave him a pained look. “What if it comes on the day of the meeting?”
Their gazes locked for a long moment, and Duncan’s irritation rose. He often felt vexed in Siusan’s company these days. She looked at him with those reproachful midnight-blue eyes, and he just wanted to slap her.
A year they’d been wed.
The longest year of Duncan’s life.
“Let it,” he said before turning his attention back to his bannock, which he drizzled with honey. “I’m sure ye can manage birthing my son on yer own. The healer will be with ye.”
Drew let out a soft snigger at this. Duncan glanced up to see his sister eyeing his wife. “It might not be a son,” Drew pointed out. “Siusan might bear ye a bonny wee daughter.”
“Nonsense,” Duncan growled. “The healer is convinced the bairn will be male.” The last thing he wanted was a daughter. This broch felt overrun with women as it was. With no brothers, he’d grown up with a dominant mother and blade-tongued sister. He’d had enough of women.
But ye have a brother, a voice chimed in his head.And he still lives.
Aye, a bastard. Duncan’s brow furrowed as he dwelt on the unsavory fact.But if this meeting goes to plan, he’ll soon be dealt with.
Bastard brothers aside, the fact remained that Duncan had few male kin still living, which made it all the more important that his wife provided him with a son. Duncan had taken great pains to find himself a submissive wife. However, Siusan wasn’t his first choice; the lass he’d really wanted had been taken from him.
His frown deepened. He didn’t like reminding himself of that disappointment; it had galled him at the time, and every time he reflected on it, his ire rose anew. Shoving the thought aside, Duncan took a large bite of bannock and chewed vigorously.
Leaning back in his seat, the MacKinnon clan-chief took in the view from his solar window. It was a grey morning, and a watery sunlight filtered in. Beyond the window, the wooded sides of Dunan Vale were wreathed in mist. The hottest summer he could ever remember had given way to the inclement weather he was used to.
“Is everything ready for yer guests?” Drew spoke up again.
“Aye,” Duncan replied, glancing his sister’s way once more. “Or it will be when they arrive.”
His sister was delicately buttering a sliver of bannock. Everything about Drew was dainty. She was a small woman with hair the color of peat, smoke-grey eyes, and milk-white skin. These days, Duncan often felt disconcerted when he looked at her; for with the passing of the years, Drew MacKinnon was starting to look more and more like her mother. She had the same cunning face, sharp gaze, and queenly bearing.
A shiver ran down Duncan’s spine. He didn’t want reminding of that hag. He needed to find a husband for his sister so he could be rid of Drew. MacNichol had been evasive thus far; perhaps Drew would manage to convince the clan-chief if she was able to corner him.
Stuffing the rest of the bannock into his mouth, Duncan brushed the crumbs off his léine and rose to his feet.
“Where are ye going?” Drew demanded, eyebrows arching once more. “Ye only just sat down.”
“Ye have reminded me that there are things to be done,” he grumbled, grabbing another wedge of bannock from the tray. “I can’t sit around yapping with ye two.”
Leaving his sister and wife in offended silence, Duncan left the solar.
Bran was waiting for him in the hallway beyond. The coal-black wolfhound leaped to his feet, tail wagging.
