Page 61 of The Warrior
“First, I smile at him, because I know he means well,” Ilysa said as she led Moira into the next storeroom. “And then, unless he has persuaded me by raising some point I hadn’t thought of already—which is rare—I do as I intended in the first place.”
Moira burst out laughing. “That is far more clever than arguing with him.”
“Ye know what my mother was like,” Ilysa said with a shrug. “I learned to make decisions for myself at a young age.”
While Ilysa counted the sacks of oats stacked against the wall, Moira thought about Ilysa and Duncan’s mother, a kind but fearful woman. Moira felt guilty for how she had ignored the poor woman’s attempts to guide her. She had been far too spoiled and strong-willed for such a meek nursemaid.
“When I was a bairn, Duncan was usually off with the other young men,” Ilysa said when she had finished counting the bags of oats. “And then he left us.”
Moira had given no thought to the consequences of their affair on Duncan’s mother and sister. At the time, Moira had been only a year younger than Ilysa was now, but she could not have been more different from this contained, responsible young woman. But as wild and undisciplined as Moira was, she had loved Duncan deeply.
Moira glanced at Ilysa’s delicate features and hoped Ilysa would not suffer as much for love as she had.
* * *
Duncan went inside the keep, but instead of going straight through the second set of doors into the hall, he opened the door to his right that led into the adjacent building. When the MacDonalds held the castle, the chieftain’s private rooms were here, and Duncan had never been inside before.
If anyone saw him in this part of the castle, he would need an explanation. Duncan regretted not paying attention when Alex had talked at length about which lies worked best in such situations. Before his marriage, Alex was always sneaking in and out of bedchambers he should not be in.
Luckily, the building appeared to be empty. Whoever had these rooms now must still be in the hall. Duncan glanced into the large room that made up the first floor. The wall facing the courtyard was covered with tapestries and windowless, as he had known it would be. But he cursed under his breath when he saw the narrow, arrow-slit windows on the sea side. Most likely, the windows on the floor above would be the same, but he wanted to check before giving up on his plan.
Duncan went up the stairs quickly, keeping his ears open.
When he heard the voices of children, he hesitated. But he only needed one quick look, and the children sounded absorbed in their play. When he leaned around the doorway from the stairwell, he saw a boy and girl playing with wooden swords. The boy wore a hood and had his back to Duncan. The girl, who was half a foot shorter, had summer-blue eyes and fair, bouncing curls.
The room they were playing in spanned the width of the narrow building, like the room below, but it had windows on both sides. One set overlooked the sea cliff, while the ones on the opposite wall looked out toward the castle walls and the grassy fields beyond.
Damn, damn, damn.The windows were all less than a foot wide. He would have to find another way.
Duncan knew he should leave before the children saw him, but something made him pause in the doorway to watch them.
“Not like that, ye wee fool!” the boy said.
Duncan considered intervening until he saw the amusement on the girl’s face.
“Hold it like this so I can’t plunge my blade into your belly.” The boy took the girl’s arm and showed her how to hold her wooden sword. “Ye wouldn’t like that, would ye?”
The lass shook her head, sending her fair curls bouncing. “Ye wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” the lad said. “But someone else might try it one day, and I won’t be here to protect ye.”
The girl dropped the point of her sword to the floor. “Why not?”
“I told ye before,” the lad said. “I’m going back to Ireland.”
The girl stuck out her bottom lip. “I don’t want ye to leave, Ragnall.”
Ragnall. Duncan’s heart stopped in his chest. Had he stumbled upon Moira’s son?
“I must go back,” the lad said. “My mother needs me.”
Chapter 25
Lad, are you Ragnall MacQuillan?” Duncan asked as he stepped into the doorway to show himself.
The children stopped their play, and the boy turned around to look at him. Duncan fell back a step, as if he had taken a heavy blow—and he felt as if he had.
In that instant, he knew the truth.
