Page 67 of Rebellion's Fire

Inevitably, Gormflaith sawthem first. She all but exploded into the hall, where her mother was judging some petty dispute with more patience than Gormflaith would have known how to show.

In the light of Adam’s mad start after Cairistiona of Tirebeck, Donald had ridden out with his men to check for any threatened incursions from the lady’s bellicose husband. Gormflaith wished he was present to hear this, because she was fairly sure her mother would hide the best of her reactions.

As Gormflaith hurried across the hall, her mother raised her hand to silence the man ranting in front of her. It worked. The lady’s ability to effortlessly master the most vocal and brutal of men always impressed Gormflaith. She sat down in the chair beside her mother, who turned to her, brows raised. She seemed displeased by the interruption, although anyone else, Gormflaith reasoned, would have been grateful.

“Adam’s coming,” Gormflaith said. “He has a woman with him.”

Her mother’s eyes closed briefly, a better reaction than Gormflaith had hoped to surprise from her. Perversely, it made her uneasy. She tried to work out why this should be so serious and failed.

“Then have them prepare a suitable welcome. I will be finished here shortly.”

Gormflaith stood obediently and tripped out to the kitchen, where they were already cooking dinner. But there were sweet cakes baked earlier, which she bade them bring to the hall when her brother arrived, together with a bowl of nuts and dried fruit, and a jug of the wine Adam had brought back from the market at Rosemarkie.

That done, she went to change her gown to one not covered in mud from the hills, and to brush and dress her hair. She did not want to be outdone by the “French” Lady of Tirebeck.

By the time she was satisfied, she could hear the shouts of welcome in the yard and ran outside to welcome her brother and his strange guest.

Adam walked his horse across the yard. A woman sat in front of him, wearing his cloak, although this did not appear to denote any friendship between them. On the contrary, the lady sat straight and rigid, staring straight ahead of her. A mud-streaked mask that must have once been quite a pretty ornament covered one side of her face. The other side was cold, proud, and angry.

Oh dear. Not grateful, then.

The usual boisterous welcome of his men and the house guards was muted in honor of his guest. His captive, apparently. As Gormflaith advanced to meet them, Adam halted and dismounted, reaching at once for the woman. Although she suffered him to touch her, she stared over his head from the saddle, and when she landed on the ground, she stared at his chest. Somehow, although Gormflaith didn’t see her shrug, the cloak fell from her shoulders to the muddy ground.

The proud lady didn’t appear to notice, merely stepped away from the restive horse and stood rigidly two paces from him.

Findlaech had materialized by Gormflaith’s side.

“Do you know, I thought she might be worth saving?” Gormflaith murmured. “I thought there was a reason he took such care of her.”

“Oh, there is,” Findlaech allowed, “But you and I aren’t likely to fathom it.”

“I thought he liked her.”

“He does.”

Why?She couldn’t ask. Good manners urged her forward to the repellently proud lady.

“You are welcome in our hall, lady,” she said as pleasantly as she could.

The cold eyes deigned to focus on her, but the woman made no response.

Adam said, “My sister. Gormflaith, Cairistiona daughter of Rhuadri, the Lady of Tirebeck.”

Gormflaith inclined her head, as though to an equal—which the woman wasn’t, whatever she thought of herself—and at last Cairistiona’s lips parted as though she would speak.

Too late. Halla, who could depress the most entrenched of pretensions with the twitch of one eyebrow, had arrived and actually took the woman’s hand with a sympathetic smile.

“How delightful to meet you at last. Forgive me, I was detained in the hall, but I’m sure my daughter has bid you welcome.”

“The Lady of Ross, my mother,” Adam said, as if she needed it spelled out. “Halla, daughter of Gillebride.”

The proud young woman dropped a sudden, jerky curtsy. “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “You are kind. But your son has misunderstood. I need to be at Tirebeck. There was a fire, and my people don’t know where I am.”

“We will take care of that,” Mother said smoothly.

“That—” The woman swallowed her words back, and Gormflaith glanced at her with unexpected new interest. Had she been about to say,That’s what I’m afraid of?

“Come inside,” Mother said. “You must be in dire need of refreshment and warmth.” Gently but inexorably, she drew Cairistiona with her toward the hall. The young woman had not relaxed at all.

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