Page 45

It was true, Gilmour thought, and took another quaff from his horn mug. He did not trust her and yet he wanted her.

"More ale, me laird?"

What exactly did that say about his moral integrity?

"Me laird?"

"What's that?" He lifted his head and looked at Ailis. She was buxom, giving, available, and had been ever since he'd met her some months before. And although she sometimes smelled like the goats she herded, he had oft appreciated her charms. "Forgive me. Did you say something?"

"I asked if you wished for more ale."

"Oh. Me thanks, but nay," he said and returned his glare to his mug. Damn that Isobel. It wasn't as if she trusted him. Hardly that. And yet she wanted him, too. Maybe.

"Your mind is far away this night."

He glanced up, caught Ailis's smile and soothed his own scowl. He was getting as crotchety as Lachlan and as introspective as Ramsay. "Me apologies," he said. "But there is a good deal to ponder."

"Aye," she agreed. "I too worry about your brother and his wife."

"Do you?"

"Aye. She is me departed husband's distant cousin, you know, and Ramsay..." She didn't sigh exactly, but her bosom lifted slightly as if she entertained lurid thoughts. "Your brother is an extraordinary man."

Extraordinary! Gilmour almost snorted. He'd heard quite enough of Ramsay's fine qualities for one night, thank you, and—

"And a gentle man," she added, her tone dreamy.

Gilmour slammed his foolish jealousy to a halt. Gentle? Was she implying that she and Ramsay had some special bond?

"What do you think has befallen them?"

She shook her head. "I do not know, but..."

"But what?"

" 'Tis naught," she said and turned as if to leave.

Gilmour caught her arm. "Please, Ailis, if you know anything that might shed light on this matter, I would much appreciate it."

She glanced about. "I fear this is not the place to speak of such things."

Surprise smote him. Did she really have some knowledge that she might share? "Where, then?"

"I have a cottage in the village."

He remained still for a moment, his mind racing along with his pulse. "Very well," he agreed.

She smiled, then straightening, hurried away.

Gilmour did not rise immediately. He finished his ale instead and finally, when he saw that Ailis was no longer in the great hall, he too departed.

It was not difficult finding her house, and when he knocked, she answered promptly.

"Laird Gilmour." Her tone was somewhat breathy, her dark hair down about her shoulders. "Come in."

He did so. Her cottage was a humble place, tidy, lighted by a single candle.

"Would you like some ale?"

"Nay. Me thanks."

"Mead, mayhap?"

"I would hear what you know of me brother's disappearance," he said and she nodded gravely.

"Aye. Of course," she agreed and wrung her hands. "Let me just say at the outset that I wish to cause no trouble. I merely strive to do what is right."

He said nothing, only watching her.

" 'Tis Anora," she said finally. "She never wished to marry."

He tried to figure some connection between her words and their present conversation. Nothing came to mind. "What's that?"

She glanced at her hands. "She was... afeared of men."

Betrayed, Isobel had said.

"Indeed, before her marriage, I thought..." she began, but stopped as if embarrassed.

"What is it you thought?"

"Remember please that I have naught but the highest regard for Lady Anora."

He would have assumed as much if she didn't insist on him believing that very thing, but now he wondered. "Of course," he said and nodded his encouragement.

She wrung her hands again. "Since Isobel's arrival at Evermyst, they spent much of their time together." He waited, saying nothing as she watched him closely.

"They were... companions," she said, as if in explanation.

" 'Tis only natural, I suppose, since—"

" 'Tis nothing natural about it."

Her meaning dawned on him with a start. "Do you mean to say Lady Anora is... attracted to women?"

"It gives me no joy to say these things, me laird, but with your brother's disappearance..." She shrugged as if pained. "The truth is she and Isobel were oft closeted away together. And once upon a time, late at night when I went to the river... I found them together."

He felt as if his eyes might very well pop from his head. "Together...?" he asked, his imagination running wild.

"Aye, me laird."

"And were they doing something..." He shook his head slowly, trying to remain lucid. "Unseemly?"

She leaned closer. "They were... swimming."

"Naked?"

"What?" She reared back slightly as if surprised.

He cleared his throat and tried to calm his wayward thoughts. His imagination was running wild and seemed to be taking his wick with it. "Were they unclothed?"

"Nay."

He almost sighed with disappointment. The Fraser twins... swimming naked. Ahhh.

"But they wore only their shifts, and 'tis surely not normal to spend such time in the water. So I..." She paused. "I am shamed to admit it, me laird, but I hid behind the bracken and listened while they talked."

"And what did you learn?"

She remained silent for several seconds, then, "They are sisters," she whispered. “Twins."

He continued to wait, but realized finally that this was the extent of her secret knowledge. "I fear I do not see the connection between their possible kinship and me brother's—"

"Do you not understand?" she hissed. "They..." Shifting her gaze, she scanned the walls as if they might well have ears then added, "They were lovers in the womb."

His brows shot into his hairline. Now this was news.

"Have you not heard that 'tis the way with twins? They mate while yet unborn," she insisted. "Their lady mother knew this. She knew, and so she separated them. But somehow, by hook or by crook, they found each other and wished to renew... their bond."

Gilmour struggled to consider her words. "But if such is the case, why did Anora wed me brother atall?"

"Your pardon, me laird," Ailis said and smiled a little, "but the MacGowan name carries some power even here in the far north. And too, your brother's arrival saved Anora from wedding the Munro, or any other of the swains who came to Evermyst in an attempt to claim her hand."

"So you think she married Ramsay to gain her own ends."

"As I said, me laird, I have naught but the highest regard for me lady, but now Laird Ramsay is missing and I.

.." Her voice broke and a whimper of dismay escaped her pretty lips.

"I do not trust this Isobel and I fear—" She sniffled and he moved forward to console her.

She melted into his arms. "I fear she has gotten rid of Ramsay so that she can be reunited with her sister. "

"There now," Gilmour said and stroked her hair. "You needn't fear, lass, for if the truth be told, I think some wee trouble has befallen me brother and his wife and that they will be home posthaste."

"But if that is so, why would Isobel return now just when Ramsay has disappeared?"

“Tell me, Ailis," he said, his mind spinning, "have you told others about your suspicions?"

She gazed into his eyes and shook her head.

"Have you shared your belief that they are sisters?"

She tightened her arms about his waist and pressed her face against his shoulder.

"Ailis?"

"Nay," she said, "I feared I could trust no one but you."

"Then you needn't worry, lass. For I am certain 'tis only fear for your lady that makes you believe such things. She seemed happy with me brother, did she not?"

"Aye," she agreed hopefully and glanced up again. "She did, and you are right, I am sure, for who would not be happy in the arms of one of the famous rogues?"

He smiled. There were few things on earth that he enjoyed more than flattery.

Isobel never flattered him. In fact, she spent a good deal of time confronting him with his faults and the rest of their time driving him insane.

She was opinionated and sharp witted. He had never like opinionated, sharp-witted women, so why couldn't he get her out of his mind?

Could Ailis be right? Might the girl be attracted to women?

But she had trembled beneath his hands. Had it been revulsion?

Nay, he could not yearn for a woman who did not yearn back.

And despite everything, he did yearn. Just the memory of her in the burn hardened—

"The brothers MacGowan have indeed been the answer to our prayers here at Evermyst," she whispered. "Peaceful and powerful, cunning and kind, loving and..." She paused, looking him straight in the eye. "Beloved."

He smiled. " 'Tis kind of you to—" he began, but just then she rose up on her toes and kissed him.

Placing his hands gently on Ailis's arms, he eased back. "It is not that I do not wish to stay," he said. "But I fear I must return to the keep."

"And disappoint your desire? There is none at the castle who can give you what I can," she said and kissed him again.

"I am sorry," he said and caught her hands in his own. "But I fear I must leave."

It was not a simple task to fight his way out of her cottage, but finally he succeeded.

The great hall was dark when he reached it, but Gilmour made his way past the sleeping hounds and servants without lighting a candle and slipped up the stairs toward the bed chamber he had once shared with Lachlan.

The castle seemed strangely quiet and a cool draft wafted up from the hall.

He glanced behind to see if the door had been opened.

"Most remain longer."

Gilmour started at the words and jerked about, but the speaker was only Meara, leaning on her gnarled staff as she gazed at him with bird bright eyes from the top of the stairs.

"What say you?" he asked.

"Most remain longer at the widow's house," she said. "Why did you not?"

He raised his brows. "What makes you think I was with the widow?"

She scowled, drawing her overgrown eyebrows together in a wrinkled line. "What is it that makes you think me a fool?"