Alex inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I ken, but the Steward is correct that I am here to join his cause.”
“Then by all means,” Thomas said, sweeping his hand forward, “let us nae keep him waiting.”
“Who is this?” a dark-haired woman demanded as she moved to block Lena’s path across the great hall to the stairs that led to the bedchambers. Marsaili stiffened beside Lena, but Lena placed her hand on her half sister’s arm. Behind them, Broch and Donald grunted in unison, but Lena turned and gave them both quick looks that she prayed conveyed her wish to address the problem herself.
The servant who had been sent to see them to their bedchambers bobbed a curtsy. “My lady, Euphemia, this be Lady Lena MacLean.”
The woman’s dark brows drew together, and her jade eyes narrowed. “MacLean? Ye are a member of the MacLean clan, and ye are here?”
Lena narrowed her own eyes. “Aye. I have accompanied my husband.”
“And who might that be?” the woman demanded, raising a heavily bejeweled hand to toss her long, flowing hair over her shoulder while raking her gaze down Lena’s gown, then back to her face with a contemptuous look. Lena was suddenly acutely aware of the state of her appearance. Not only had she purposely chosen an older gown to wear for travel but she had not donned any jewelry. And her hair! She started to raise her hand to set her hair to order, but she noted the woman watching her every move, so instead, she pressed her palm against her leg.
“I asked ye a question, girl,” the woman snarled.
Lena drew back her shoulders. “I’m aware, but I dunnae feel particularly inclined to simper to the demands of a rude stranger. Who mightyebe beyond Lady Euphemia?”
“I’m the lady of this castle,” the woman said, her tone frosty. “I am Euphemia de Ross, wife of Robert Stewart, Seventh High Steward of Scotland.”
Behind her, Donald cleared his throat. “Lady Euphemia was wife to the Steward’s brother, Gillis, before she married the Steward.”
Gillis!
Lena tensed at the name. Alex had apprenticed with the Steward’s brother, Gillis, and the man had left such horrible scars on Alex’s back.
Lady Euphemia arched her eyebrows, scowling at Donald while she spoke. “I’m certain ye ken I married Robert after Gillis died.”
“We ken it,” Broch commented. “All of Scotland kens it, and we all kenned that the Pope did nae like ye marrying one brother after the other.”
“Well, we are married, so that shows ye the Pope’s power compared to the Steward’s.” She flashed a barbed smile, then turned her daggered gaze back to Lena. “Now that ye have my marital history, I propose ye start by telling me yer full name andthensimpering when I demand why ye are inmyhome. Unless, of course, ye wish me to remove ye from the castle.”
If the lady didn’t curb her nasty tongue, Lena thought she might slap her. She clenched and unclenched her jaw while taking and holding a deep breath. When a measure of calm returned to her, she said, “I dunnae simper for any man or woman, whether ye are the wife of the Steward or nae. I give my fealty and respect only to those who have earned it, and ye, Lady Euphemia, have a long road to travel before ye could earn either, if ever. Now step aside. My husband is laird of the MacLean clan, and surely, yer husband would nae be pleased to hear ye were so verra inhospitable to me.”
“That kinnae be!” the woman gasped, looking as if she was barely in control of her raw emotions.
Lena frowned. “What kinnae be?”
“Ye—” Euphemia pointed an accusatory finger at Lena “—kinnae be wed to Alex!”
Alex?
Unease rippled through Lena. Why would this nasty woman use Alex’s name so familiarly? It was as if she thought she had a right to, as if they had an intimate connection.
“I assure ye I am,” Lena ground out.
“She is,” Marsaili said.
“Aye,” came a chorus of agreement from Broch and Donald.
“Where is he?” the woman murmured, her gaze leaving Lena to sweep the room. The eager, hopeful light that now shone in the woman’s eyes made Lena’s gut flip. “Where is he?” Euphemia demanded now, desperation dancing on the edge of her tone. She locked her gaze on Lena. “I must see him! I kinnae believe he would marry ye! He did nae—He always said he—Tell me where he is!”
Lena fought the jealousy that had sprung up inside her along with the disquiet. There was no doubt in her mind Alex had once had some sort of relationship with this woman, and based on her frenzied need to see him, Euphemia clearly had not been the one to sever their ties. “I’d love to wash the grime of travel from me before supper.”
When the woman didn’t budge, Broch stepped to Lena’s side. “I can help ye move if ye need aid, Lady Euphemia.”
Her lips pressed together, and then she stepped aside, not speaking as Lena, Marsaili, Broch, and Donald continued on after the servant. No one spoke as they moved up the stairs and to the bedchambers, but Lena’s mind raced through all that had happened since they had arrived. First, she had met the Thomas of Alex’s nightmares. Alex had said previously that he had grievously failed Thomas, and it seemed quite obvious to her that Thomas held the same belief. He seemed to hate Alex. She shivered thinking of the man.
Her mind turned to Euphemia. Who had she been to Alex? And how had she been anyone to him if she had been married to Gillis before marrying the Steward?
