Fortunately, a knock sounded at the door then, saving her from having to think about that further.
Leaving her to do up her tunic, Tildy moved to answer the door and Evina’s eyebrows rose when she heard Saidh’s voice, followed by the excited chatter of other women.
“Lady Saidh would like to ken if yer ready fer visitors?” Tildy asked, amusement ringing in her voice.
Since Tildy would have simply said no if there was a man in the group, Evina assumed it was women only and said, “Aye.”
The moment she did, Tildy pulled the door wide and Saidh swept into the room with Jetta and two blond-haired women on her heels. Knowing from what Saidh had said that Murine and Edith were both blondes, Evina was just thinking that Niels must have arrived with his wife, Edith, when Saidh announced, “Evi, this is Dougall’s wife, Murine, our sister-in-law and dear friend, and this is Jo Sinclair, a dear friend to all of us and sister of our hearts.”
“Oh.” Evina was a bit disappointed that the woman wasn’t Edith, but she managed a smile. “’Tis a pleasure to meet ye.”
“Thank ye. ’Tis a pleasure to meet ye as well,” Jo assured her, and then added, “And I’m so sorry that we’ve just shown up like this. I fear we thought to surprise Saidh with a visit, and when we arrived at MacDonnell only to discover they were here, we thought to stop on the way home to at least say hello. But I promise we don’t plan to stay and trouble ye with more guests.”
“Oh, but ye must stay for Evina and Conran’s wedding,” Saidh protested, turning on her with a frown. “And then ye can come home with us to MacDonnell. Ye can hardly just turn and ride all the way home without visiting as planned.”
“That would be lovely,” Jo said, but then added with regret, “But I’m sure there isn’t room here for us with the whole Buchanan clan already in attendance.”
“Nonsense,” Evina said at once. “We’ll find room. Somewhere,” she added with a frown as she realized they were fresh out of rooms. They were going to have to consider adding rooms above stairs now that she was marrying into such a large family, she thought.
“They can have the boys’ room,” Saidh announced, turning to Evina now. “Alick and Geordie probably won’t be sleeping in there until yer attacker is found anyway, and Rory can sleep on a pallet in the hall with them, or go down to the barracks. If ’tis good enough for yer poor cousin Gavin, ’tis good enough for him.”
“That would work best,” Tildy murmured.
Evina nodded. It was probably the only solution.
“I’ll go prepare the room after I have ye dressed,” Tildy announced, and moved to the chests to fetch her a clean gown.
“I told the men at the gate that the blackguard they’re looking for may have clean clothes now rather than dirty, ratty ones,” Fearghas Maclean announced as he returned to the table, trailed by two huge deerhounds. “They’re going to stop and check anyone who tries to enter.”
Conran nodded as he watched the man reclaim his seat at the high table. Noting the caution with which he settled himself, Conran glanced to Rory. But his brother had noticed as well, and suggested, “Perhaps I should take another look at yer wound after we’re done here, m’laird. Be sure infection has no’ set in again, put some salve on and rebandage it.”
The Maclean grimaced, but nodded on a sigh. “Aye, mayhap. I think ’tis just tender from me being overactive yesterday. But ‘twould probably be good to be sure.”
Conran relaxed a little, but then turned to glance along the table at his brothers, as well as Greer MacDonnell, and Cam Sinclair. “Is there anything else anyone can think of that we can do?”
When no one else spoke, Aulay commented, “All ye can do is put guards on Evina for now. Perhaps if we kenned more we could do more, but we have no idea of the who or why behind the attack.”
“The why is usually coin or madness,” Rory pointed out, and when everyone turned to him, he pointed out, “Well, the woman who was trying to kill Jo was crazy.”
“Aye,” Cam Sinclair agreed grimly.
“As was yer aunt, Greer,” Rory continued. When the man nodded, he added, “With Murine ’twas to take over Carmichael, or for coin.”
“’Twas coin for Edith too, then, if ye count taking over Drummond as coin,” Conran pointed out, and then frowned and added, “And madness.”
“’Twas madness with Jetta too,” Aulay put in.
Conran pursed his lips and then commented, “Do ye sometimes wonder what it means that so many of us have ended up with women who have mad people trying to kill them?”
Greer snorted at the question. “Forget that, what does it mean that so many of us have murderers in our life at all? Ye ken there are people out there who live their whole lives without ever encountering a killer, mad or otherwise? Yet this family constantly runs into them.”
“Aye,” Alick agreed. “’Tis like we’re honey and the murderers are bees.”
The Maclean guffawed at the claim and shook his head. “Bees make honey, lad. If murderers are bees, that would make ye lads flowers.”
“No’ us,” Greer countered at once. “’Tis usually the women they’re trying to kill.”
“Aye,” Dougall agreed at once. “Our women are the flowers that are attracting the killer bees.”
“Just do no’ mention that around Saidh or there’ll be hell to pay,” Greer said dryly.
“Aye, ye might no’ want to mention it around Evina either,” the Maclean murmured, but was smiling faintly.
They were all silent for a minute and then Alick commented, “On the bright side, we’re quite good at handling them.”
“We are?” Conran asked dubiously.
“Well, we’re all alive, aren’t we?” he pointed out. “And we learn from each one. For instance, ye thought to check under the clothes in the chests here because of what happened with—”
“There was nothing in the chests here,” Conran interrupted him to point out.
“Still, ye checked. That’s something,” he assured him.
Conran just shook his head and then glanced to the Sinclair’s young son, Bearnard, when the lad suddenly chuckled. Jo had left the boy with his father when she’d gone upstairs with the other women to meet Evina. The lad had dropped to sit on the rushes behind his father and both of the Maclean’s huge deerhounds seemed to think this a fine game and had stood to approach and lick his face and head. They were giving him a fine bath and the four-and-a-half-year-old was laughing as they did.
Conran shook his head with amusement. Today was the first time he’d even seen the beasts. It seemed the men had been keeping them out of the way down at the barracks while the Maclean was on his deathbed. But now that he was much recovered and up and about, he’d sent for them. The affection between the man and his beasts was obvious. They hadn’t let him out of their sight since he’d come below, following him from the keep and back and sitting by his position on the bench.
“Ah, dear lord, Bearnard,” Cam Sinclair muttered, turning to grab his son by the arm and lift him to his feet. “What are ye trying to do? Get me in trouble with yer mother? Ye’ve got rushes all over yer plaid now, and she’d be fair froth if I let the Maclean’s hounds eat ye.”