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“I’m so sorry, Marsaili. Word of such a thing must have angered ye, as well as brought ye joy. Why did ye nae share it with me sooner? Why do ye nae go to find yer bairn?”

“Da will nae tell me where he is or who he was brought up with until I complete a series of tasks he has set before me.”

A bad feeling settled in the pit of Lena’s stomach. The Campbell laird was a bitter enemy of the MacLeod clan, and she felt a sinking certainty that the task that had been assigned her by her father had to do with hurting Lena’s family and the king. She swallowed hard, feeling the hot burn of rage, but not at Marsaili. Lena could only imagine the clawing, desperate panic to locate her son, and she could not say there was much she herself would not do if she learned such a thing.

“Tell me of the tasks,” she said, making her voice more of a command than a suggestion. She’d heard her brothers all do this, and Alex, too, so she prayed it would work to persuade Marsaili to do as Lena bid, as well.

“I was ordered to learn which nobles the king intended to take castles from next and get the information to my da.”

Lena sucked in a sharp breath.

“That is nae all,” Marsaili said.

Dear God! The words roared in Lena’s ears, but she simply nodded. “Continue,” she said, her voice sounding calm when she was anything but.

“His intended goal was to make the Steward’s position stronger. I offered to come here because I believed, perchance I still do, that yer husband will be going to the Steward to join forces with him.”

Lena had to clench her jaw so as not to rage at Marsaili. She curled her hands into fists, fear for her brothers pounding at her. And doubt came about Alex, which angered her even more. Yet, it was there, the smallest speck of it, but nevertheless, a spot on her heart. “What did ye hope to gain if Alex were going to pledge himself to the Steward?”

“My son returned,” she said emphatically. “I believed if I accompanied yer husband to the Steward’s home and told Alex all I kenned about what castle the king plans to take next, and then together we give the information to the Steward, then my da will return my son to me.”

Despair and anger ravaged Lena’s heart. She wanted to weep and yell at the same time. She had to squeeze her eyes shut and take three deep breaths to shove back at the tide of fury threatening to sweep over her and cause her to say things she would regret, things that would not help either of them. When she opened her eyes once more, Marsaili’s large, liquid ones burned with pain. “I told ye that ye would hate me.” Her voice was a ragged, broken plea to be forgiven.

“I dunnae hate ye,” Lena responded with a sigh. “I can even ken why ye did what ye did, but I kinnae allow ye to do something that will hurt our brothers, even to gain yer son.” When Marsaili’s face drained of color, Lena grabbed her hand. “We will find another way to learn where yer son is.”

“What way? My da is the only one who kens, and he will only tell me if I do this!”

“I dunnae ken the way,” Lena answered honestly, “but I will tell Alex what ye have told me. He is very astute and clever when it comes to manipulating situations to gain what he wants.” As the words left her mouth, the doubt about Alex that Marsaili had introduced into her mind slammed into her, hard. Is that what he had done with her? Manipulate her to give her entire trust to him so that when he turned against her brothers and their king, she would stand loyal? She squeezed her hands into fists. She refused to believe this could be so, yet knots formed in her stomach when she thought of telling him what Marsaili had just told her. What if she told Alex and then he did agree to take Marsaili with him to see the Steward? Lena twisted her hands together in vexation. She did not think she could accept that, and such a betrayal by him would break her heart. And this time, she did not think she could muster the will to piece it back together.

“Let’s return to the kitchens,” she said, standing. When Marsaili looked as if she would protest, Lena shook her head. There was nothing more to say. She needed to think about what to do. She had to tell Alex, yet she feared telling him and what might happen. And what of her brothers? What would they say when they learned of Marsaili’s betrayal? Would Iain let Marsaili return to Dunvegan? Iain was a fair and kind man, and she felt he would understand why Marsaili had done what she had, but did that mean Marsaili would have a home there? Certainly, she could not be trusted there until her son was returned to her.

Lena turned away from her sister, who still sat looking toward the kitchen doors. “Are ye coming with me?” she asked without looking back.

“I’ll be in momentarily,” Marsaili replied. Lena left her sister outside and entered the kitchen.

The smells of hearty beef stew and baking bread hit her at once, reminding her that she had left her task of baking the bread undone. But someone had completed it for her. Lena looked around the kitchen at the ten women, and the ones who met her gaze eyed her with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. A few others had scornful expressions on their faces, as if they’d expected her to be pampered and lazy since she was the sister of a laird and now was married to a laird. She knew well that her scene last night and then leaving the task of the bread unfinished today likely had fed the fire of that perception.

Taking a breath for courage, she glanced around the room again, holding each woman’s gaze who would hold hers. “I ken many of ye are curious about what happened last night with Fardley, and many of ye are vexed with me because ye believe Fardley is being unfairly punished because of me.”

Beyond the crackling and popping of the kitchen fires, silence was absolute in the small, warm space. She noted with a sense of wryness, yet also a measure of gratitude, that none of the women tried to deny what was obviously occurring. This meant they were straightforward and not simpering, and she appreciated that. She much preferred a person who showed who they were as opposed to one who hid behind false niceties.

“Ye dunnae need to explain to us,” Lara MacLean spoke up, serving the women around her with a fierce scowl but turning a kind, almost sympathetic smile upon Lena. It made Lena wonder what Alex had told Lara’s husband, Munroe, if anything, about her past. Or mayhap Alex had mentioned it to Donald, and Donald had said something in passing to Munroe. It mattered little who knew about her past, how, or if they knew at all. She was stronger than the memories, and she would no longer let them define her.

“Aye,” drawled a fair-haired woman with dark-brown eyes. “Ye are wife to the laird,” she said, obvious disdain in her voice. “Ye are above having to tell us anything.”

And that attitude was exactly why she had to try to explain last night if these women were ever going to accept her. She locked eyes with the blond woman. “What is yer name?”

“Freya MacLean,” the woman replied with a smirk. “I’m Donald’s daughter. Alex and I are like family.”

Lena suspected the woman had entertained hopes of becoming Alex’s wife someday, given her overtly hostile tone and how easy Alex was to care for. Lena would have to establish a firm boundary with this one immediately but she had to do so delicately. “Aye, ye are like family as ye are part of his clan, and as laird, he feels accountable for all members of his clan.” When the woman looked as if she was going to interrupt, Lena hastened to continue. “And as yer father is like a father to Alex, I’m sure he sees ye as a sister.” She paused a moment to let that verbal dagger sink into the woman’s mind. “And of course, as Alex’s wife, I will now think of ye as a sister, as well,” Lena finished with a wide smile that she hoped looked sweet and not irritated, as she felt rather annoyed at the moment. Having hopefully dispensed with that problem, she said, “Now, I would still like to explain about last night.”

The women all gave her eager nods, except Freya, who looked as if she was struggling to decide whether to stomp off or remain in the kitchen. The woman’s curiosity must have overcome her indecision, though, because she stayed. “I must take full blame for last night upon myself,” Lena said, “and I beg each of ye to forgive me.”

Quite a few astonished looks appeared among the group. “I have had a hard past, one in which my husband before Alex treated me verra poorly.” She swallowed past the large lump in her throat and squared her shoulders, determined to carry on.

“What happened, my lady?” Lara asked with obvious concern.

“The marriage was forced upon me, and my husband was an evil man. I dunnae wish to convey all the details.”