"Do ye believe his tale?"
"More and more. There are new scars upon his body. Lady Gillyanne and Fraser both support his tale. My doubt is bred from his claim that he doesnae remember me yet our time together came before the attack upon him. Then again, our time together was short and there is no glint of recognition in his eyes." Ilsa shrugged. "It will take me some time, I think, to decide what I believe. It didnae help Diarmot's cause when I discovered he ne'er told me he was married once, nor that he had six children. It was a lie in many ways, so one has to wonder if this is but another lie."
"Aye, I think the same." As they entered a sadly neglected garden, Sigimor divested himself of the children. "Tait and I will be staying. If naught else, a danger still lurks in the shadows. A threat to Diarmot could be a threat to ye, too."
"Do ye think ye can discover what it is?" Ilsa asked as she and Sigimor sat together on a stone bench while Gay meandered through the garden with the children. "I am sure Diarmot and his family have been trying."
"They have, but they also have lands to tend and people to care for. That means they cannae spend all their time trying to uncover this enemy. For months after the beating, their greatest concern was helping Diarmot recover. Tait and I can take up the hunt and hold fast I may be the laird of Dubheidland, but I have a small army of kinsmen who can tend to the land and its people whilst I tend to this. Diarmot's brother Nanty intends to do the same."
"Do ye think ye can uncover his enemy?"
"It willnae be easy, but, aye, we will find the bastard." Sigimor gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Do ye still love the fool?"
"Aye." Ilsa grimaced. "I would rather I didnae, but it isnae an easy feeling to cast aside."
"I havenae seen much of the fool this morn, but it didnae appear as if your wedding night changed much."
"He conceded that we must have been lovers. Tis a start." She blushed faintly. "The passion is still there between us. That, too, is a start. We have also agreed to a truce within the bedchamber."
"How gracious of the mon," Sigimor grumbled.
"If he truly has lost all memory of me, then, aye, it is. And, as Diarmot said, whether he believes my tale or nay, I am his wife now and should accept that responsibility. That is exactly what I have decided to do."
"I am nay sure I understand."
"Weel, after thinking of and tossing aside several plans, I have decided to simply be his wife, to simply be what I am. I intend to try to shield my poor battered heart in whatever way I can, but, in all else, I will deal honestly with the mon. No plots, no games, no tricks. I think that is the only way to deal with a mon as suspicious and wary as Diarmot MacEnroy."
Sigimor rubbed his chin as he considered her words for a moment, then said,
"Tisnae fair that ye must prove yourself."
"Nay, it isnae, but that is what I must do. Again, if he truly has no memory of me, then he doesnae ken anything about me. Since he is in danger, tis only right and wise that he suspects me, and is wary."
"Mayhap, and, aye, the best way to change his mind is to be honest in all ye do and say. He has to learn to trust in ye again. Of course, if he but plays some game with us--"
"Then ye can beat him into mash and toss him on the midden heap."
"Fair enough."
*
"What are ye looking at?" asked Nanty as he entered Diarmot's ledger room and moved to stand next to him by the window he stared out of.
"Sigimor Cameron covered in children," Diarmot replied, never taking his gaze from the group entering his garden.
Nanty grinned as he watched the children climb off Sigimor and skip through the garden. "Your bairns trust the mon."
"And so I should?"
"Ye should at least note that they have no fear of the mon despite his great size. One should always take notice of how a child reacts to someone. They can of times sense things we cannae."
That was true, but Diarmot felt no inclination to admit it. When he had first seen how his children had accepted Sigimor, he had felt a pang of jealousy for he was not close to his children. Since he had to accept the fact that that was his own fault, he then felt guilty. Uncomfortable with both emotions, he was not feeling very kindly toward Sigimor Cameron, the man who had inspired that brief, damning moment of reflection.
"The Camerons appear to be a closely bonded family," Nanty murmured.
Diarmot glanced at his brother, irritated by the false look of innocence upon Nanty's face. "Ye trust them, dinnae ye. Ye believe their tale."
"Nay need to make it sound as if I betray ye in doing so."
"Why not? They could be the ones behind all my troubles, the ones who tried to kill me."