Chapter Three

"Did ye find out anything more?" Knox asked when Gavin caught up with him entering the house.

He nodded, sliding a glance toward the gates. The women would be nearing the field now and would begin picking flowers. He wondered if it meant Freya would come into the house to help set up the flowers. He cleared his throat. What did it matter?

"Aye, I did. It is obvious she comes from an affluent family. When I mentioned having visitors and not knowing how to entertain them, she gave me some insight." Gavin repeated what Freya had said about her father.

"That is interesting," Knox said. "What else?"

"She referred to her parents in the past tense. I am nae sure if it is because she spoke of the past, or because they are no longer alive."

They walked into the great room where his youngest brother, Cynden, and his wife sat. Ainslie wrung her hands and looked to Gavin. "I wish yer mother was here. I have never entertained alone. I am nae sure what to do."

A thought occurred. "Ye can ask the woman Freya to help ye. She seemed well versed in the entertainment of visitors." Gavin looked to Cynden. "I just had an interesting conversation with the lass."

"If she can help, that would be wonderful." Ainslie looked to her husband. "Can ye have someone fetch her?"

"She is currently in the field picking flowers for the tables with Flora," Gavin mentioned, earning a quizzical look from Cynden.

He shrugged. "I have to act interested in what she does to find out who exactly she is."

Knox's brows rose and the corner of his lips curved. "I am sure the fact she's a bonnie lass makes it oh so difficult for ye."

Letting out a huff, Gavin motioned a young guard over. "Go to the field and tell Flora that both she and Freya need to come and see Lady Ainslie after picking flowers."

"Tell them to bring the flowers and green branches as well," Ainslie added. With a grateful look at Gavin, she whirled and hurried away.

"My wife will nae sleep tonight," Cynden explained and shook his head. "I dinnae understand why she is so nervous."

The cook entered and walked toward them. "Of course, the mistress is fraught. There is much to do. Any shortcomings with the meal or the house will be attributed to her lack of hosting abilities."

With pursed lips, she glanced around the great room then gave both Gavin and Knox a pointed look. "Do ye wish for a late repast since the pair of ye were nae at last meal?"

Gavin's stomach replied with a rumble. "Aye."

He and his cousin sat at the table closest to the kitchens along with Cynden and discussed the following day while eating. Not long later, the leader of the wall guards joined them wishing to be informed what to expect.

Just as they finished their meal, Freya and Flora appeared and waited at the entrance.

Ainslie hurried to them, and the trio went to another table where small baskets and vases of all sizes had been set up. Together they began putting the flowers and branches into them, the entire time discussing where they would be placed. As far as Gavin could tell, Ainslie had yet to ask Freya about the next day.

"Ainslie has met the MacNeil's daughters before," Cynden said. "It does nae stop her from being nervous. Do we know what his plans are?"

"He is good friends with Darach," Knox said, referring to their influential cousin in Uist.

"Although the MacNeil travels through, Alex wishes for us to ensure we offer the best hospitality and invite him to remain for a pair of days," Gavin explained. "They are on their way to visit Clan MacLachlan, his wife's family."

"This is a purely social visit, however, it is always beneficial to form ties with other clans. The MacNeil's of Barra are a good ally to have," Knox stated.

"Understood," Cynden said. "I will speak to the men and plan a friendly competition with his guards."

The women continued to decorate, each placing the vases and baskets on surfaces around the room. Gavin noticed that the servant girl, Flora went up the stairs with two vases, which he assumed would be placed in the guest bedchambers.

Freya remained in the room, making quick work of placing flowers on tables and side tables, sometimes swapping them out if not satisfied.

"She is well versed in preparing for visitors," Knox said under his breath. "Whoever she is, it is obvious the lass is highborn."

"I think the same," Gavin replied.

When Ainslie went to Freya, he strained to hear the conversation. "I hear ye may be able to help me with hosting. I am so very nervous."

"Ye should nae be. Mother always said to speak of something ye are familiar with, such as gardening, cooking, sewing and such and ask about the guests' interests. Mother insisted it is better to have companionable silence than continuous babble."

Ainslie gave a nervous giggle. "I will try to remember that." Seeming to further consider, Ainslie asked. "What was yer role when visitors came?"

Thankfully Freya didn't seem to notice that Ainslie sought to gather information.

"I did whatever Mother did. Sat with the guests, kept the conversation going. Accompanied them for walks about the garden and went with guests on excursions to the nearby village."

Ainslie slid a look toward where he sat when Freya was not looking, and he made a circling motion with his hand for her to keep asking questions.

"Ye are obviously better suited for this than I will ever be," Ainslie said. "Mother and Father dinnae entertain much. Most of our visitors were family."

"We had family visit as well," Freya said with a soft smile.

"I miss my home," Ainslie said with a forlorn sigh. "But I will never regret life with Cynden."

Gavin wanted to roll his eyes. Why had Ainslie strayed from questioning Freya.

"I can imagine," Freya replied, her expression neutral. It could be, she didn't miss anyone by her lack of expression.

"Aye, well, I would say this looks quite nice. Will ye please remain nearby tomorrow. I may have to seek ye out," Ainslie said looking at the surfaces they'd decorated.

Freya nodded. "Of course."

"Perhaps one day I can visit yer home." Ainslie said and quickly added. "I'm sorry, I know ye prefer not to speak of yer past."

Freya whispered something Gavin couldn't hear, then she moved away from Ainslie to picked up stray cuttings and walked from the great room.

Moments later Ainslie neared and gave him a sad look. "Her parents are both dead, no one she lived with remains."

"How do ye know this?" Gavin asked.

Ainslie shook her head and let out a breath. "She said there was no one left at her home to return to."

The laird, along with his wife, his son, and accompanying guards arrived the next day. Any trepidations about the visit were dispersed as the man's demeanor was quite pleasant. The son was about five and twenty and had apparently had previously met a few of the Ross guards who'd come to Skye from Uist. The son and guards ate together and went about their day with plans for a friendly archery competition.

The conversations between the MacNeil's and his family flowed easily, and Gavin was glad for it.

As they ate, Laird MacNeil spoke to Gavin. "There is only one wife about. Do ye and Alexander nae plan to marry soon?"

It seemed a strange question coming from a man. Perhaps he was just making conversation. "Our brother Munro, who is second born is also married. He lives at a separate keep."

When the man remained silent, Gavin continued. "I would like to marry and have bairns someday." Gavin couldn't help but scan the room searching for Freya. That it was his initial reaction was troublesome.

The laird nodded. "It is part of life. To find a good woman to share one's life with." He directed a smile to where his wife sat with Ainslie.

"Do ye enjoy hunting?" Gavin asked, not wishing to continue the conversation on marriage. If the man had been asked by family to find a husband for some single lass in Barra, he didn't plan to be the one chosen.

The older man's eyes twinkled with mirth, having obviously suspected the diversion in conversation. "I do indeed."

Cynden leaned forward to meet the visiting laird's eyes. "Our lead guard has set up a small competition for everyone tomorrow in the nearby forest."

"They were most delightful," Ainslie exclaimed as they watched the MacNeil and his family take their leave early in the morning, two days later. "His wife is very excited about visiting her family."

Cynden pulled his wife to his side and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Ye were a perfect hostess."

"I would nae have been able to do it without Freya's help. She remained near so I could ask questions. She is a godsend."

As they walked inside, Gavin pulled Ainslie aside. "Did you find out anything else about Freya's past in these last couple days?"

Ainslie gave him an apprehensive look. "She is a lovely woman who misses her life and her family. I believe she is here because she had no other choice but to leave her home behind. I wish there was something more we could do for her. She is so very sad."

When Gavin gave her a questioning look, Ainslie sighed.

"Very well, this is what I gathered. She is from an isle. She only had the one brother. Her mother loved growing flowers and her father was a kind and well-liked man. And as I told ye, both parents are dead. I wonder if there is more family, but I didn't want to press her for anymore."

"Is that all."

Ainslie huffed. "It is doubtful our clan has anything to worry about. Let her be." The spirited lass walked away from him signaling the conversation was over.

Standing in for Alexander was exhausting. Gavin spent half of the day listening to grievances from villagers and farmers, several times, having to break apart brawling men. Most of the arguments were easily solved once he asked questions clarifying each side's point of view and considered both sides.

It was past time for the midday meal when he turned to Cynden, who looked as tired as he felt. "I dinnae know how Alex does this every day," Gavin complained, as he stood and stretched. "I am tired and hungry."

Only a few people remained but seemed content to wait since a meal would be served soon.

Wishing for a moment alone, he headed to the stairs only to stop when a guard tapped him on the shoulder. "A distraught woman with bairns and her parents are outside asking to speak to ye."

He glanced toward the interior, but Cynden was gone. He'd walked away as soon as Gavin had stood.

"Why did she nae come inside?" Gavin asked.

The guard shook his head. "I dinnae know. She is quite hysterical."

Together, they walked out to the courtyard to find the sobbing woman flanked by an older couple. Behind them in the back of the cart were four children of varying ages, some of them were also crying.

At seeing him the woman crumpled and began wailing, having to be held up by her companions.

"My Edgar. My Edgar," she said between sobs. "He is dead!"

"What happens?" Gavin asked the older man who'd accompanied her, as it seemed doubtful that the crying woman could speak clearly.

"He is dead, her husband is dead," the older man said in a shaky voice. "Someone killed him." He shook a fist. "And we know who."

"Ye must punish the man who killed my Edgar," the crying woman screamed. "The bastard killed a kind man. The father of my bairns."

At the words, the children began crying harder. Thankfully Una appeared and motioned another servant girl over. Together they helped the children climb down from the back of the wagon and guided them to the kitchens.

Obviously having overheard the commotion, Cynden hurried out to join him.

Together they managed to convince the woman and her companions to come into the keep to the great room. Once there, the woman was given honeyed mead to help calm her. She was a pitiful sight. Red swollen eyes. Hair and clothing askew.

"Explain what happened," Gavin asked in a soft tone. He'd hoped something like this would not occur in Alexander's absence. But here they were, someone had been killed and he prayed to God the killer would be easy to find.

After drinking the mead, the woman calmed and mopped her face with the corner of her shawl.

The elderly man was obviously the spokesman. "Her husband, Edgar, was returning from the village. We live just outside of Tokavaig, ye see. We raise chickens, sell the birds and eggs." He took a breath. "I hear he argued with one of yer guards. It has to be Hendry who attacked and killed him."

At the mention of the name, Cynden and Gavin exchanged alarmed looks. Hendry was one of their guards, an able warrior and friend to them both. Although very much a warrior, it was hard to believe Hendry would commit murder.

"Why do ye accuse one of my men?" Gavin asked.

"They argued at the tavern. Everyone saw it. I was told Edgar hit yer guard with a tankard. He was seen leaving the tavern after Edgar."

Gavin listened and waited for the man to be silent. "I promise that we will find out exactly what occurred."

"Bring him here, I want to hear him admit what he did," the widow demanded, suddenly finding the strength to speak clearly. "He must be punished."

"Ye mourn. If I were in yer place, I too would be demanding justice. First, I will go to yer home with ye. I wish to see the injuries. Once that is done, I will speak to those who claim to have witnessed all that occurred. The person responsible for Edgar's death will be punished. Ye have my word."

"Bring him here now! I want to look into his eyes!" The grieving woman screamed and collapsed against the older woman. "He must admit it," she murmured seeming to run out of energy.

He motioned a pair of guards over. "Where is Hendry?"

One replied. "On patrol on the northern shore, with three others."

Gavin already knew, but asked so that the grieving family would hear. "Go fetch him. Do nae speak to him of this. Confine him to his quarters until I can speak with him." The men gave both him and the grieving family questioning looks and then hurried away to do as told.

After more conversation back and forth, the trio finally seemed convinced Gavin would see to finding the truth.

"We will go with ye to yer home and see for ourselves what happened," Gavin informed them.

He left Cynden to see after things in the keep, and then he and Knox rode out with the anguished family.

"They blame Hendry?" Knox stated, incredulous. "Of all the warriors, Hendry is the most levelheaded."

"Aye," Gavin replied. "I find it strange to hear that he argued at the tavern. Drunkenness brings out the worst in a man, but I still cannae believe it. Hendry is nae one to drink over much."

The people in the wagon were a sad lot. Fortunately, they would be able to continue to support themselves with the chickens. And yet, losing a husband and father was not something that would be easy to overcome.

Knox studied him, his cousin's dark gaze taking him in. "It is nae Hendry."

"What if it is?" Gavin asked and let out a breath. "I am nae prepared to punish a friend."

Jaw set, Knox shook his head. "It is nae Hendry," he repeated.