Page 6 of A Constant Blaze

“Who is Lady Mairead?” Christian asked lightly.

“The Lady of Kingowan. You might have met her in Perth. Her husband is a great courtier of the king’s.”

Christian remembered Mairead very well. A beautiful, friendly flame around which the bright courtiers fluttered and, she suspected, came to grief. Worse, she’d been one of the few people who admitted to actually having met one of the MacHeths. “Ah.ThatMairead. I thought she must be your mistress.”

“She was,” Adam said unexpectedly. “For a little. She used to be married to one of Somerled’s captains, who’d died in battle. She left the Isles to marry Brian of Kingowan. And bring us what information she could.” Adam shoved his feet into his boots. “She also carries messages to and from my father.”

Christian blinked. “How…?”

“In disguise,” Adam said, rising to his feet.

Christian dressed more slowly. She was aware she’d have scrambled after him to hear this news, only that would no longer be dignified now that she’d learned Adam had been Mairead’s lover. He’d told her so openly and without shame. There was no need for demeaning jealousy. But still, she would not show unseemly interest.

Instead, she concentrated on the warmth gathering in her heart because he never kept things from her now, not past loves—she hoped it was past—and not even such secrets as his family’s means of communicating with Malcolm MacHeth in the impregnable castle at Roxburgh.

Adam was not gone long. She was still brushing her hair when he erupted back into the bedchamber and seized up his heavy weapons belt. His dark eyes were grim and bleak, his mouth set in a thin line. Not quite his battle face, but getting there.

She set down the brush. “What is it?”

When his gaze met hers, her heart almost stopped beating. She’d never seen fear in his face before.

“Donald is taken,” he said. “He went to Galloway anyway, despite agreeing that we would invite Fergus to Kintyre with my uncle instead. And Fergus took him prisoner and handed him over to the king. They wanted me, too, but apparently, Donald is enough for their purpose.”

“Which is?” she managed.

“To bring our men south to face the royal army, so that Lanson can take Ross. And my father will command us to lay down our arms, in case they kill Donald.”

She went to him, held his thick, muscled arms, and laid her cheek against his chest. There was nothing she could say. After a moment, his arms closed around her, and his hand stroked her hair as if in wonder. But no part of him relaxed.

“I must go to my mother,” he said after a moment.

“I’ll come with you,” she said, and he didn’t forbid it.

*

Christian suspected thatthe lady of Ross had never broken down before anyone, including her children, in twenty years. As a result, when she sank suddenly down in the chair she’d risen from to hear Adam’s news, her mouth open in a silent cry of grief, no one knew what to do.

Her breath came in gulps as if she couldn’t control it, and one hand reached to her veil, clawing it off to reveal a halo of bright, golden fair hair. Tears coursed unnoticed down her cheeks. Adam gazed at her in shock. He’d known this would devastate her, just not how obviously.

Christian dropped to her knees, taking both of Halla’s hands and holding them tightly. If ever she’d doubted the depths of emotion the lady harbored beneath her cool exterior, she knew better now. She couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone in such pain, all the more shocking for being so unexpected.

“You’ll come through this, too,” Christian whispered. “And we’ll find a way to get him back.”

Halla closed her eyes as if struggling back to herself. Her fingers clung to Christian’s, hard and then, slowly relaxed. She opened her eyes, ignoring the tears.

“How?” she demanded bitterly, although the unendurable despair no longer seemed so obvious in her ice-blue eyes. “By sending Adam, too, into the lion’s den and losing all three of them?”

“It’s not the end,” Adam said in his abrupt way. “I dreamed this, too. Chains around Donald… I just don’t know what it means.”

“It means Fergus of Galloway has betrayed us,” Halla said in a hard voice. “I never thought he would do that, not tohim.” She dragged the back of her hand across her mouth as though to silence herself.

“Well, at least now I don’t have to marry Fergus’s pig of a son,” Gormflaith, Adam’s sister, said, in a rallying sort of a way. Although her mother ignored her, it brought a faint, reluctant smile to Adam’s lips.

The lady stood, drawing Christian to her feet. “It’s late,” she said with clear effort, “and we should rest. If Donald is truly taken, we can expect some kind of demand from the king. We need to be at our best to decide what to do.” She leaned forward, pressing her cold, smooth cheek briefly to Christian’s. “Take care of him,” she breathed.

Christian’s throat closed. “I’ll try.”

When the lady had gone, Adam walked across the hall to the hearth, where the remains of a fire still glowed. He crouched and began methodically adding more wood from the box beside it. Then he sat back on his heels and gazed into the flames.

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