Maria turned toward her, mouth agape. “Did ye just say ye have a bairn?”
“Well, he’ll be closer to a wee lad now.”
“I dunnae ken what ye’re saying…”
“Nay, ye would nae,” Marsaili mumbled. She quickly and quietly told Maria everything—of falling in love with Callum, of his promise to marry her, and of his lies. Marsaili’s ears burned as she spoke of him not returning, of her sister Helena discovering that he was promised to wed Edina Gordon, of her father learning she was with child and making her hide the truth from everyone, and of his plot to wed her to the Earl of Ulster.
“I had the bairn, and I thought he had died at birth. My father and Jean,” she said, nearly choking on her rage, “they told me he had died. I did nae ever consider that they would lie to me. I should have… I should have kenned my father would still be plotting to marry me to the Earl of Ulster.”
“Oh God, Marsaili,” Maria whispered.
Marsaili nodded. “He had so much thick brown hair when he was born,” she said, tears stinging her eyes as the memory came to her. “And blue eyes. I wonder if his eyes are still blue. I have to find him, Maria. Jean says he’s with the Summer Walkers, but I dunnae ken where they are, nor if I’ll even ken my own child if, or when, I see him.”
Maria clutched Marsaili by the arms and hugged her fiercely. “I’ve some notion of the path the Summer Walkers take, and I can tell ye exactly how to ken yer son.”
“What?” Marsaili gasped, biting her lip when Maria motioned for her to lower her voice.
Maria cast her gaze to the door, where Marsaili could now clearly see the silhouette of a man standing guard. “I know the leader of the Summer Walkers. They travel almost the same route every summer, and as for yer bairn, I…I branded his foot. I’m certain now that the bairn was yers, and had ye told me of him, I would have helped ye.” She gave Marsaili a stern look, but then she squeezed her hand. “Though I do ken why ye might have felt ye could nae.”
Marsaili nodded but then frowned. “How can ye be certain that ye branded my son’s foot?”
“Jean brought a bairn to me one night, freshly birthed and swathed in peasant rags. She told me he belonged to yer chambermaid, and that the woman had begged Jean to get rid of it because of the shame she’d bring her family since she was nae married. Ye ken as well as I do, Jean would nae ever do anyone a favor unless it somehow benefited her.”
“Aye, I ken it,” Marsaili said, bitterness curling within her at Jean’s lies.
“I’m sorry to say I did nae question that yer chambermaid would have gotten herself with bairn. The woman had joined with near half yer father’s guard.”
“I did nae have any notion,” Marsaili replied, thinking of Brianna who’d always seemed so sweet to Marsaili but then had betrayed her confidence.
“Jean had seen the Summer Walkers camping near the castle,” Maria continued, “and she told me to take the bairn to them. I branded the bairn on his right foot with anXin case Brianna changed her mind and decided she wanted her bairn, er—” Maria gave Marsaili an apologetic look “—yer bairn back. I’m sorry, Marsaili. I’d nae ever have done Jean’s bidding had I kenned the bairn was yers. Ye hid the fact that ye were with child verra well.”
“Aye,” Marsaili replied, thinking back to how scared and lonely she had been.
“The next morning Brianna was dead, and Jean told me the silly woman had drowned herself. Jean said to nae ever speak of the child, as it would just bring more shame to Brianna’s family.” Maria shrugged. “I had liked Brianna, so I kept my silence until now. That bairn was the only one born that month. The boy I branded must be yers.”
“I have a way to ken my son,” Marsaili whispered, her heart racing.
“Aye,” Maria said. “If we can find him. Come, we must leave. Remember the plan?”
“Aye,” Marsaili replied, following Maria to the slightly ajar dungeon door. “Godfrey of Antwerp,” Maria called in a sweet voice as she strolled into the dark hall, gripping Marsaili by the arm. “Marsaili dunnae have the strength she needs for the journey to the earl’s home.”
“What can be done?” the man asked, looking to Marsaili. “Ulster will be furious if I delay bringing her to him.”
“I thought as much. I have done all I can in the dungeon, but if ye aid me in taking her to my healing room, I have some restorative medicine that should see her through the journey and have her well by the end of it, so she may ease the earl’s grieving pains.”
When the guard, Godfrey, looked as if he was going to protest, Maria tugged the bodice of her gown low while murmuring, “The dungeon is so hot, is it nae?”
Godfrey’s gaze fastened to Maria’s bosom. “Aye. Ye will be quick about it in the healing room, will ye nae?” he asked, unable to pull his gaze away from Maria’s chest. Marsaili rolled her eyes at Maria, whose lips trembled with mirth.
“Oh, aye. I’ll be so quick, ye’ll nae even ken anything is occurring,” she promised, quirking her mouth at Marsaili. “If ye’ll just take hold of Marsaili’s right arm?”
Godfrey did as she had asked.
The journey from the dungeon to the healing room was a short one, as it was situated just to the right of the top of the dungeon stairs. No other chambers were nearby, so it was unlikely that anyone would hear Godfrey if he made noise when falling, nor was Marsaili worried that they would fail to overcome the man. Between her and Maria, they certainly could accomplish the task. Her greatest concern was getting out of the castle unseen and then putting enough ground between them and her father’s men to escape capture.
As they entered the healing room, Maria paused right inside the threshold at a table that had a candelabra on it. She waved Godfrey in while she released her hold on Marsaili, catching Marsaili’s eye for the briefest of moments. Marsaili gave a slight nod to let Maria know she was prepared.
“If ye’ll just help her sit on the chair,” Maria instructed, “I’ll get ye some mead.”
