“Aye, my laird.” The guard, his dark blue eyes appearing almost midnight-black behind the slits of his nasal helm, towered over her.
“Come with me.” Fiona motioned for her to follow her upstairs and the guard clomped in behind them in his heavy chainmail. Fiona slowed on the first landing as a maid walked downstairs toward them. “Meg, I need a bath prepared for the laird’s betrothed, within the blue chamber that connects to his. Bring a tray too, and be as quick as you can about it.”
“Aye, mistress.” The girl dashed back upstairs.
“This way.” Fiona guided her the rest of the way to the third floor then down a passageway lit by the odd flickering candle in a wall sconce.
They slowed as up ahead, Meg ushered two lanky lads who heaved a wooden tub between them into a chamber. At the doorway, they waited as the lads set the tub down then shuffled out and raced downstairs, their shirttails fluttering loose over their breeches.
Fiona walked inside and she followed her. Shivering, she rubbed her chilled arms. A large bed with a vivid blue velvet canopy took pride of place against the far wall with a carved wooden trunk sitting at the end.
Meg knelt at the hearth and tore bark from a log, lit the fire and coaxed the sparks into a welcoming blaze of heat. She added a block of peat and as it crackled and caught alight, she rose to her feet, dusted her hands against her aproned skirts and nodded at Fiona. “Is there aught more ye need, mistress?”
“It appears our laird’s betrothed has arrived without her belongings so I’ll need you to fetch some gowns from my ambry for her, slippers and a nightgown too.”
“Of course.” The maid breezed through the door and closed it behind her, the guard standing tall and strong in his position across the darkened passageway.
“Thank heavens we’re finally alone.” Fiona grasped her hands, tugged her toward the bed and plopped down. “Now, tell me all.”
“’Tis so good to see you, although I’d rather that had never been here.” She sat, took a steadying breath. “Obviously I’ve no wish to wed Jeremiah. He snuck into Carron Castle then stole me away, cited his father’s permission as acceptance in doing so, although Duncan sails to these shores as we speak, my chosen one with him.”
“You’re mated?” Fiona clasped a hand to her mouth. “Are you certain?”
“Aye, and ’twas a shock to discover a bond had formed between us. His name is Ronan Matheson and he’s a warrior from the fae village. Afore Jeremiah abducted me, Ronan and I spoke handfast vows and since my arrival, he and I have spoken along our merged link. He’ll be here soon, intends to find a way inside to free me.”
“Jeremiah still has no knowledge of your mind-walker skill?”
“Nay, although Colin told him the truth about my fae heritage, that he’d abducted me as a child from the village.”
“Jeremiah has always hungered to have fae blood running within his line, has become fixated on it even more of late.” Fiona leaned closer. “I’m aware of Coll’s mission, that he travels the length and breadth of MacKenzie land in search of more warriors who’ll give him his loyalty. Coll sought Jeremiah’s hospitality two months past and stayed with us. Coll and I spoke, privately of course, and he told me of Muirin and Hamish, that they now reside at Ardan House. I’ll never forget that first night you and I met, when you arrived at the chief’s keep with your mama and I snuck into the solar and hid under the table. I’d already sensed something special about Coll and Duncan through my ability, and when I learnt of their fae blood that night, all made so much more sense.”
“Where is Matthew?” Fiona’s husband too might offer her his aid should she need it, all dependent on how deeply his loyalty to Jeremiah was over Coll and Duncan.
“Mathew is—” Her friend’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “You have no’ heard?”
“Heard what?” More dread filled her.
“M-Matthew suffered a nick to his arm during a training session in the yard, the smallest wound, but it festered and he took a fever. He passed away nigh on two months ago, only a few days after Coll left.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ve been at Carron that long and had no’ heard. Is your father aware you’re without a husband?” Gregor’s allegiance to his chief overrode all, but he loved his daughter, wouldn’t wish for her to be suffering unnecessarily. She pulled Fiona into her arms, her heart heaving for her dearest friend.