Read Online Highland Groom by Hannah Howell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hannah Howell
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exactly what I have decided to do."
"I am nay sure I understand."
"Weel, after thinking of and tossing aside several plans, I have decided to simply be his wife, to simply be what I am. I intend to try to shield my poor battered heart in whatever way I can, but, in all else, I will deal honestly with the mon. No plots, no games, no tricks. I think that is the only way to deal with a mon as suspicious and wary as Diarmot MacEnroy."
Sigimor rubbed his chin as he considered her words for a moment, then said,
"Tisnae fair that ye must prove yourself."
"Nay, it isnae, but that is what I must do. Again, if he truly has no memory of me, then he doesnae ken anything about me. Since he is in danger, tis only right and wise that he suspects me, and is wary."
"Mayhap, and, aye, the best way to change his mind is to be honest in all ye do and say. He has to learn to trust in ye again. Of course, if he but plays some game with us--"
"Then ye can beat him into mash and toss him on the midden heap."
"Fair enough."
* * *
"What are ye looking at?" asked Nanty as he entered Diarmot's ledger room and moved to stand next to him by the window he stared out of.
"Sigimor Cameron covered in children," Diarmot replied, never taking his gaze from the group entering his garden.
Nanty grinned as he watched the children climb off Sigimor and skip through the garden. "Your bairns trust the mon."
"And so I should?"
"Ye should at least note that they have no fear of the mon despite his great size. One should always take notice of how a child reacts to someone. They can of times sense things we cannae."
That was true, but Diarmot felt no inclination to admit it. When he had first seen how his children had accepted Sigimor, he had felt a pang of jealousy for he was not close to his children. Since he had to accept the fact that that was his own fault, he then felt guilty. Uncomfortable with both emotions, he was not feeling very kindly toward Sigimor Cameron, the man who had inspired that brief, damning moment of reflection.
"The Camerons appear to be a closely bonded family," Nanty murmured.
Diarmot glanced at his brother, irritated by the false look of innocence upon Nanty's face. "Ye trust them, dinnae ye. Ye believe their tale."
"Nay need to make it sound as if I betray ye in doing so."
"Why not? They could be the ones behind all my troubles, the ones who tried to kill me."
"If her brothers had wanted ye dead, ye wouldnae be here now to wonder on it.
They wouldnae have left ye near death; they would have made sure ye had breathed your last ere they walked away. And, we talked to every mon, woman, and child in Muirladen, yet gained verra little useful information. I doubt that would have been the way of it if a small army of giant redheads had been in the area at the time ye were attacked."
There was another truth he could not argue with, one he dearly wished Nanty had not set in his mind. Men like Sigimor and the other Camerons were ones people noticed. It would have required only one person catching sight of them for the tale to have spread throughout the village. Since Muirladen was close to Campbell lands, the villagers would undoubtedly have recognized them, but no one had mentioned the Camerons. It was certainly something to consider as he weighed judgment on his wife and her kinsmen.
"Since the Camerons must ken how recognizable they are, they might have hired others to do the deed," Diarmot offered in argument and scowled when Nanty rolled his eyes.
"Why are ye so intent upon marking them guilty?"
"Because I dinnae have anyone else to blame." Diarmot sighed and shook his head. "Aye, I may be too hard on them, but better that than to be too trusting right now. Someone wants me dead. That beating was but one incident. There have been a few others, all of which could also have been nay more than ill luck. If the incidents before the beating were only accidents, that means the Camerons could be the ones trying to kill me. If
"I am nay sure I understand."
"Weel, after thinking of and tossing aside several plans, I have decided to simply be his wife, to simply be what I am. I intend to try to shield my poor battered heart in whatever way I can, but, in all else, I will deal honestly with the mon. No plots, no games, no tricks. I think that is the only way to deal with a mon as suspicious and wary as Diarmot MacEnroy."
Sigimor rubbed his chin as he considered her words for a moment, then said,
"Tisnae fair that ye must prove yourself."
"Nay, it isnae, but that is what I must do. Again, if he truly has no memory of me, then he doesnae ken anything about me. Since he is in danger, tis only right and wise that he suspects me, and is wary."
"Mayhap, and, aye, the best way to change his mind is to be honest in all ye do and say. He has to learn to trust in ye again. Of course, if he but plays some game with us--"
"Then ye can beat him into mash and toss him on the midden heap."
"Fair enough."
* * *
"What are ye looking at?" asked Nanty as he entered Diarmot's ledger room and moved to stand next to him by the window he stared out of.
"Sigimor Cameron covered in children," Diarmot replied, never taking his gaze from the group entering his garden.
Nanty grinned as he watched the children climb off Sigimor and skip through the garden. "Your bairns trust the mon."
"And so I should?"
"Ye should at least note that they have no fear of the mon despite his great size. One should always take notice of how a child reacts to someone. They can of times sense things we cannae."
That was true, but Diarmot felt no inclination to admit it. When he had first seen how his children had accepted Sigimor, he had felt a pang of jealousy for he was not close to his children. Since he had to accept the fact that that was his own fault, he then felt guilty. Uncomfortable with both emotions, he was not feeling very kindly toward Sigimor Cameron, the man who had inspired that brief, damning moment of reflection.
"The Camerons appear to be a closely bonded family," Nanty murmured.
Diarmot glanced at his brother, irritated by the false look of innocence upon Nanty's face. "Ye trust them, dinnae ye. Ye believe their tale."
"Nay need to make it sound as if I betray ye in doing so."
"Why not? They could be the ones behind all my troubles, the ones who tried to kill me."
"If her brothers had wanted ye dead, ye wouldnae be here now to wonder on it.
They wouldnae have left ye near death; they would have made sure ye had breathed your last ere they walked away. And, we talked to every mon, woman, and child in Muirladen, yet gained verra little useful information. I doubt that would have been the way of it if a small army of giant redheads had been in the area at the time ye were attacked."
There was another truth he could not argue with, one he dearly wished Nanty had not set in his mind. Men like Sigimor and the other Camerons were ones people noticed. It would have required only one person catching sight of them for the tale to have spread throughout the village. Since Muirladen was close to Campbell lands, the villagers would undoubtedly have recognized them, but no one had mentioned the Camerons. It was certainly something to consider as he weighed judgment on his wife and her kinsmen.
"Since the Camerons must ken how recognizable they are, they might have hired others to do the deed," Diarmot offered in argument and scowled when Nanty rolled his eyes.
"Why are ye so intent upon marking them guilty?"
"Because I dinnae have anyone else to blame." Diarmot sighed and shook his head. "Aye, I may be too hard on them, but better that than to be too trusting right now. Someone wants me dead. That beating was but one incident. There have been a few others, all of which could also have been nay more than ill luck. If the incidents before the beating were only accidents, that means the Camerons could be the ones trying to kill me. If
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