Lachlan had to laugh, though it wasn’t a robust one.
“Zia believes it involves a woman,” Artair said.
“Honora agrees and surprisingly mother has said nothing,” Cavan said and suddenly his eyes turned wide. “You confided in Mother?”
“When requested, our mother keeps things to herself,” Lachlan said.
“Zia and Honora consider you their brother and they worry over you. Please, for their sake, and I beg you for ours”—Artair looked to Cavan, who nodded vigorously—“tell us what is wrong.”
Perhaps it was the need to shed the pain for he blurted out, “I fell in love and she rejected me.”
Thankfully, they looked on him with empathy not pity and before either of them could offer condolences or advice, a knock sounded at the door.
Cavan bid the person to enter and surprisingly it was Bethane, Zia’s grandmother. The woman was tall and slim with an ageless beauty and wisdom that a rare few attained. She was here to help Zia birth her babe, which wasn’t due until the end of summer, a little over two months away.
“I bring a message from your mother,” Bethane said with a smile. “Angus Bunnock has arrived.”
“He wasn’t due until tomorrow,” Cavan said and looked to Artair then Lachlan. “We need to greet Bunnock. I am sure he will want to speak with you, Lachlan. Then later we shall talk.”
Artair gave Lachlan’s shoulder a squeeze before he stood and followed Cavan out the door. Lachlan stood slowly, placing his tankard on the nearby table, and when he turned to leave he came face-to-face with Bethane.
She took his hand and with a smile said, “People aren’t always who we think they are, and yet upon a closer look you will see that she is the one you believed her to be.”
He felt a bit dazed when Bethane released his hand, and she slipped her arm around his to walk out of the room, which he sensed he couldn’t have done without her help.
She left him once they reached the great hall. He shook the dazed feeling from his head and joined his brothers as they greeted the burly man who had entered the room with two stout warriors on either side of him.
“Angus, you are most welcome to Caithness,” Cavan said. “I only wish the circumstances were different.”
“Aye, but I should have known Alyce’s stubbornness would be her demise,” Angus said with more annoyance than sorrow.
“It was illness not stubbornness that took your daughter,” Lachlan said, feeling the need to defend the dead woman.
Cavan shot him a look that warned him to watch his tongue then turned to Angus. “My brother Lachlan—”
“The one who made the journey for me,” Angus said and went to Lachlan and slapped him hard on the back. “I am grateful.” He sniffed the air. “You have had a feast prepared, Cavan.”
And with that they all settled on the benches to feast on the generous amounts of food on the tables. Angus sat with the Sinclare brothers, while his men didn’t even sit before grabbing for the food on the other table.
Angus wiped his dirty hands on his already grimy shirt then scratched at his thick beard. “How is your mother? You know she’s a good woman and deserves a good man to look after her.”
The three brothers exchanged glares, and if Angus knew them well enough he would have recognized this as a warning to go no further.
“I’m right here, Angus Bunnock,” Addie Sinclare said loudly as she emerged from the shadowy corner with a platter of sweet bread and handed it to Lachlan, who placed it on the table.
“You’re still a beauty, Addie,” the old man claimed.
And she certainly was. Fifty-three years had not robbed the woman of her natural beauty. She was tall and slim with red hair spattered with gray that she wore piled on her head, though several soft waves managed to fall around her face, and her brilliant green eyes continued to sparkle with the vibrancy of the young.
“But not foolish enough to shack up with the likes of you,” she said boldly, though with a smile.
“You’re breaking my heart, Addie,” Angus declared. “You know I always loved you. I’d make you a good husband.”
Addie’s smile faded. “I had a good husband and there is no one who can replace him.”
Lachlan smiled and saw that his brothers did as well. They were proud of their mother’s courage and the love she still carried for their father, though he had passed over a year now.
“I was sorry to hear about Tavish,” Angus said, offering his sincere condolence. “He was a good friend and a good man.”
“Thank you,” Addie said, “and I am sorry to hear about Alyce. She was a—”