The next morning, Deirdre knocked on the solar door of Maggie and Rhys’s rooms. Several muffled female voices were talking on the other side, and Deirdre frowned. Then silence fell, shoes scuffled from the other side of the doors, and then Maggie slowly cracked open the door, looking every bit as guilty as she used to look when she was a young girl and would take sweets from the kitchen when she’d been told not to.
Deirdre scowled at her sister. “What are ye up to?”
“Whatever do ye mean?” Maggie asked innocently.
Deirdre snorted at that. “Maggie, ye are nae any better at deception now than ye were when ye were a wee lass. Ye are up to some mischief.”
Maggie licked her lips, a sure sign that she was stalling, trying to think of something to say. “Are ye nae supposed to be giving Reikart lessons on Court etiquette?”
“I am,” Deirdre confirmed, “but when I went to the great hall this morning, Dermot told me that Rhys had decided Reikart should train with Fearghas, Dermot, and some other warriors this morning so he can become a decent swordsman. I do nae know what yer husband is thinking having Reikart and Fearghas train together after last night.” When a grin appeared on Maggie’s face, which her sister immediately covered by biting her lip, Deirdre knew that she’d been correct. Maggie was most definitely into mischief. “Maggie, I ask again, what are ye up to?”
Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “What areyeup to? Why are ye at my solar door?”
“I… Well, I need advice.”
That same grin appeared on Maggie’s face, but this time, she did not hide it. “Advice about what?”
Deirdre lowered her voice to a whisper, certain Maggie was not alone. “Reikart.”
“Shona!” Maggie suddenly bellowed as she laughed and threw open the solar door. “Ye win the wager!”
Before Deirdre could react to that odd pronouncement, Maggie had her by the wrist, yanked her into the solar, and shut the door with a bang behind her. Shona and Grace were both standing there wearing matching grins.
“Ye came around sooner than I expected,” said Grace.
Shona snorted. “Nae me. All my sons seem to draw women to them.”
“Shameless braggart,” Maggie chided, releasing Deirdre’s wrist and exchanging a smile with Grace and Shona.
“What the devil is going on here, Maggie?” Deirdre asked.
“This is a gathering of minds,” Maggie said. “We came together to try to put ye and Reikart together.”
Deirdre gasped, embarrassment heating her face. “Ye did what?”
“Don’t deny ye like him,” Shona said, stepping over to Deirdre and slipping her arm through Deirdre’s. “I noticed the attraction between ye right away, which was why I proposed the betrothal, but when ye said that you never wanted to marry each other, I enlisted yer sister’s aid.”
Shona practically pulled Deirdre to a chair, then gently pushed her into the plush cushion. Deirdre glanced up between Shona, Maggie, and Grace as they stood before her with expectant smiles. “I only know I want to learn who yer son is, Shona. He may nae wish to know me at all. He did say—”
“Bah!” Shona waved her hand at Deirdre. “Ye said ye didn’t like him, either, and yet, here ye are.”
That was true, but… “I’m not in love with a ghost,” she said, blurting but one of her many fears.
“He did love Amanda,” Shona said, her voice and expression suddenly very somber. “But I believe he will love again when he meets the right person. What has held him back is guilt. He’s punishing himself. He doesn’t believe he deserves to fall in love again, and so far, he has not met a woman who made him want to even try. I believe ye make him want to try.”
“Me?” Deirdre repeated, wishing her heart had not sped up at Shona’s words. “He hardly knows me. Why would ye think there’s anything about me that would make him want to try?”
Shona, Grace, and Maggie exchanged a quick look, and then all three women kneeled down before Deirdre. Maggie took her hand.
“Because he thinks yer eyes are nae simply the color of grass,” Grace said, and Deirdre’s heart squeezed with hope. “He thinks them streaked with glistening gold.”
“And he thinks yer hair is much prettier than the color of straw,” Shona said. All the women laughed at that. “He thinks it’s a combination of honey and daffodils, and God only knows what yer hair is inviting him to do, but I suggest”—Shona eyed her—“that you wear it down from now on.”
Deirdre’s fingers drifted to her hair, which hung over her left shoulder.
Maggie squeezed her fingers. “And he got very jealous when Fearghas kissed ye.”
Deirdre scowled. “I do nae know what possessed Fearghas to do such a thing. He—” She stopped talking and studied her sister. That guilty look was back on Maggie’s face. “Maggie, ye did nae encourage Fearghas to pursue me, did ye?”
