“I didn’t know ye were such a devout man, Rafer, but if ye don’t want to…”
“I never said I didn’t want to. I adore ye. I’ll be there.”
Meriel stepped quickly into the shadow of one of the massive doors just as the man, whom she recognized from the fair, rushed out and disappeared into the crowd. What they were planning was horrible, but she had no idea what to do about it. Mind my own business. That’s what I should do. But how could she ignore this? She remembered Rowan MacKenzie from his visit to Cnocreidh at Christmas. He had danced with her and had seemed so nice. Also, Lady Matheson had been so kind to her and Rowan was her brother. He didn’t deserve this. There was no doubt in her mind that someone should say something, but there was only one person who knew anything about it. Me.
Aye, she needed to tell someone but whom? The laird? He had been so angry after what Meriel had done with the bath that evening, she thought it unlikely that he would listen to her or believe her. But Lady Matheson will. She felt sure of it.
Determined, she slipped around to the back of the keep and into the hall through the doors leading to the kitchens. Filled to overflowing with people making merry, she had trouble spotting Lady Matheson. She searched as she wove her way through the sea of people. She did see a number of MacKenzies, but Lady Matheson wasn’t with any of them. She would have taken the risk that Laird Matheson wouldn’t believe her and told him, but she couldn’t find him either. Finally, she stopped a MacIan servant. “Pardon me, have ye seen Laird and Lady Matheson?”
“I believe they have retired for the evening.”
“But I need to speak with Lady Matheson.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait ‘til morning.” The servant hurried off.
This couldn’t wait until morning. There was nothing else to do. She would have to find Rowan himself and tell him. She spotted him fairly quickly, but, to her dismay, Eara Fraser was at his side. Just as she had almost decided to drop it and leave, Rowan moved away from Eara, evidently seeking a mug of ale. She took the opportunity and intercepted him. “Pardon me, may I have a word, sir.”
“Of course ye can, but call me Rowan. Ye are a Matheson lass, I remember seeing ye when I was at Cnocreidh at Christmas. It’s Meriel, isn’t it?”
“Aye, we danced.”
“Well, lass, my dancing days are over. I’m to be married soon.”
“I don’t want to dance, Rowan. I—I—I have something I need to tell ye. I should probably mind my own business, but your sister has been good to me, better than I deserve, in truth. I owe it to her to tell ye the truth.”
“The truth about what, lass?”
“About your betrothed.”
“What about her?”
“I think she has a lover and she means to be unfaithful to ye.”
Rowan sobered. “Ye think what? What would give ye that idea? Ye are a Matheson, how could ye possibly know anything like that about Eara Fraser?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to anger ye. It’s not my concern. I should leave.”
Rowan grabbed her arm, all of his jovial warmth having fled. “Nay, it isn’t your concern, but that ship has already sailed. Why would ye make such an accusation?”
“Sir, my friend Gallia and I saw a red-headed lass carrying on a bit behind a stall at the fair with a man she called ‘Rafer.’”
“There is no shortage of red-headed women. How do ye know it was Eara?”
“I don’t. Well, I didn’t then. I didn’t know who Eara Fraser was until we arrived here for the wedding.”
“And yet ye are spreading rumors about her? I think we should speak with your laird about this.”
“Nay, Rowan, please, hear me out. When we arrived here and I saw Eara for the first time, I wasn’t sure she was the one until just now. I was watching the dancing in the courtyard from the castle steps. I overheard a conversation between a woman and a man named Rafer. They were talking just inside the front doors. She means to meet him in the chapel tonight.”
“That could have been anyone. Ye are accusing Eara of being unfaithful based on this?” Rowan looked furious.
“Please listen. She talked about not wanting this betrothal, but said her father wouldn’t change his mind. She told Rafer Laird MacIan is shorthanded and might consider taking him on here, so they could continue to see each other. Who else could it have been?”
“If ye are lying to me, lass, I swear ye will regret it.”
“I’m not lying. She even said—she said—”
“What did she say?” demanded Rowan.