The second after the servant had shown them all their bedchambers and departed Lena’s, Lena turned to Donald, who’d insisted on standing guard at her door with Broch. “Tell me what ye ken of Gillis Steward and Alex’s time as his apprentice, and tell me what ye ken of Alex’s relationship with Gillis’s wife.”
Donald gave her a distinctly uneasy look. He scrubbed a hand over his face before answering. “Alex was sent to Gillis as a lad to apprentice, as many future lairds were.”
Lena grunted. “I already ken that.” She also knew that Gillis had thrashed Alex something fierce, but she was missing something more, she was certain. Yet, she had to be careful not to reveal what she did know in case Alex had not shared it with Donald. “What sort of mentor was Gillis to his apprentices?”
“I could nae say,” Donald said, his words stiff.
The man was lying! She crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted to accuse him of it, but she knew by the stubborn tilt of his chin that it would do no good. His fealty was completely to Alex.
“How did Gillis die?” she asked.
“I dunnae rightly ken the particulars,” the man hedged.
“Then give me a general sense of it,” she snapped. “Did a tree fall on him? Was he stabbed, beheaded, strangled?”
“I believe he was stabbed,” Donald murmured.
Now she was making progress! “Do ye ken by whom?”
Donald shifted from foot to foot. “I kinnae say that I do.”
“Ye kinnae say, or ye will nae say?” She scowled at the man until he looked at his feet.
“I will nae,” he finally admitted as he looked up. “These are questions for yer husband.”
She inhaled sharply. “He will nae give me any answers.”
“Certainly ye ken the position ye put me in by asking me to tell ye things my laird dunnae wish ye to ken.”
Her shoulders slumped as she nodded. “What of Lady Euphemia?” she asked, unable to keep the words in, though she had no hope that Donald would provide answers.
“My lady—” he started, then stopped, giving her a helpless look.
“Oh, just leave me,” she grumbled, irritated that he would not aid her but also glad of his unwavering fealty to Alex. “I am trying to help Alex,” she said to Donald’s back as the man exited the bedchamber.
He turned slowly toward her. “I ken it, my lady, and I pray that ye succeed. Broch?” Donald looked to the man. “Are ye coming?”
Broch nodded. “Momentarily. I have word of the MacLeod clan to share with Lena.”
Donald nodded and departed the room, shutting the door behind him. Lena and Marsaili both turned to Broch. “What is it?” Lena asked.
“Is all well?” Marsaili demanded.
“I’m certain it is,” he replied. “In truth, I dunnae have anything to impart about our clan, but I do ken a bit about what ye were asking Donald. And as my fealty is to ye and nae to yer husband, I dunnae have the same qualms about sharing what I ken.”
Lena detected lingering animosity toward Alex in Broch’s tone, but she understood it was born out of concern for her and Marsaili. Once Alex had agreed to allow her to journey with him to the Steward’s home, he also had been forced to reveal the king’s assignment to Broch. It was too dangerous not to share the truth with him. If Broch had continued to think Alex a traitor, he could have attempted to take Lena and Marsaili and return them to Dunvegan with the misguided belief that he was protecting them. It would have been one matter for Broch to simply flee to Dunvegan and tell Iain that Alex was a traitor, but it was an entirely different matter that Broch might go to different lengths to save Lena.
She sighed at the complications she had created for Alex, who had so much weighing on him already. But she would not have changed her decision to come even if she could have. Besides, Broch was a formidable force of strength for Alex in this den of liars. The story, if anyone was to recognize him as a MacLeod, was that he had pledged loyalty to Alex when Alex had offered him land and a great manor, which was much more than had been given to him by Iain or King David.
“Tell me,” Lena urged.
He nodded. “Gillis was killed by one of his apprentices, if the old rumors be true. A young lad, if I recall correctly.”
“Do ye ken why?” Lena asked.
Broch’s cheeks flushed red, which shocked her. The man was not easily embarrassed. “I heard whispers, but they are nae fit for a lady’s ears.”
She nodded. “I appreciate yer concern for my sensibilities, Broch, but I feel certain if I can withstand what Findlay put me through, I can endure whatever ye may tell me.”
