I hesitated, not wishing to sour his mood, but too curious to resist asking. “Gregor, what happened last night?”
He exhaled, his warm breath causing a cloud to appear in the coldness. “We dinna ever make it to the healer. She dinna wish to go, although she never said so. Instead, she insisted we stop in at old lady Brenna’s, knowing well enough that she would visit with us so long we wouldna make it there. She doesna wish to get better, Jane. It breaks my heart more than I can say.”
I waited as I attempted to pull my thoughts together in a string of sentences that wouldn’t overstep or cause offense. Isobel’s health was understandably a touchy subject for him but, like most men, he understood so little about women, he couldn’t begin to see what she meant to do.
“It’s not that she doesn’t wish to get better, Gregor. Of course she does. She doesn’t want you to get your hopes up in case…in case nothing works.”
“I wish that were true, Jane, but have ye no seen her? I weep with how my heart aches for her. I wish nothing more than to take her pain away, but she doesna cry for herself, doesna ever appear to realize how sick she is. Surely, a woman happy in her life would be more distraught.”
I shook my head even though I knew he couldn’t see me since he rode slightly ahead. I nudged my horse to speed up, not speaking until I rode next to him. “You have it all wrong. It has nothing to do with how distraught she is. She is scared to death and miserable every moment that she grows sicker, but she loves you more than she loves herself. She stays strong for you, Gregor. It’s not that she never cries; she’s human, of course she does. It’s only that she waits until you’re not around to do so. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever known.”
“Hm.”
He made the soft noise beside me as if the thought had never occurred to him before. I allowed him his silence, falling slightly behind him once again. I knew far more of men than Gregor knew of women. He needed a moment alone.
Only once we’d broken the small hill that dipped down into the village did Gregor slow to let me catch up, his mood considerably lifted. “Thank ye, lass.”
“For what?”
“For helping me to see why she dinna wish to go last evening. If ’twas me instead of her, I’d have behaved in the same way.”
“Well, sometimes when we’re right in the middle of something, it’s hard to see what’s really going on.” I nodded up toward the inn as we approached. “You didn’t have to come and speak on my behalf. It was my job to explain everything to Baodan.”
“No, I wouldna risk ye saying something ye’d be better off no saying. I need ye around too badly. And besides, ye shouldna ride alone. If ye were murdered along yer way back, who would cook that tasty bread of yers?”
I didn’t miss his teasing wink, and I laughed in response as he spoke again.
“Besides, Jane—even if we’d made it to the healer, I dinna expect to arrive back at the inn so late in the evening. Eoghanan was expecting ye back earlier. ’Tis me own fault that ye were kept. ’Twas right for me to speak to the laird myself.”
As if on cue, Isobel appeared in the doorway to the inn, a small figure in the distance, waving her arms happily as she watched us approach.
I could tell by the mischievous grin she bore that she’d spent the morning with Adwen.
CHAPTER 13
Cagair Castle
February 1649
The voices were barely a whisper, soft and distant. He couldn’t make out the words, couldn’t tell how many joined in on the ghostly conversation, but he couldn’t deny their presence. It was the fourth time such soft whispers had reached his ears. The stories about the castle were true—spirits roamed the halls of Cagair Castle.
“Did ye see one? Callum has. So have I.”
“What?” Adwen turned to face his brother, hoping that Griffith hadn’t noticed him jump as he approached.
“I’ve only seen one lass, but Callum has seen two, and Orick claims to have seen three lassies, as well as a man living among them.”
“No, I havena seen them, but I can hear them.” In all of his travels, despite every strange, mystical thing Adwen had seen, he’d never encountered a ghost.
“’Tis unsettling at first, but they cause no harm. And the lassies are fine beauties, though they dress verra strangely.”
Adwen thought of Isobel. He wished to give his new friend a magical respite, not to invite her into a dreary castle filled with restless spirits.
“I doona care for it, whether the ghosts be beauties or no.”
Griffith laughed at him, jerking his head so that Adwen would follow him outdoors. “I doubt there is little to be done about their presence, but ye have yer lifetime to find a way to rid yerself of them. Perhaps ye will find a way.”
Adwen ignored Griffith’s slight mention of the wager he lost. Griffith reminded him of it every day.
“Do ye and Da need help packing the horses?’