“Did ye bring him with ye?” Evina asked with interest.
“Nay. He’s only three months old. Far too young to travel. His nursemaid is watching him until we return. Fortunately, I have two cousins at Carmichael who gave birth around the same time as me, and they are taking turns breast-feeding him with their own babies while I am gone.”
Evina nodded. She knew a lot of nobles shunned breast-feeding, seeing it as inconvenient. They usually had a woman in waiting who had recently given birth and could take over the chore, but Evina herself thought she’d rather feed her own child as well, so was glad these women seemed to agree with it.
“This is the first time I’ve been away from Beathan since he was born,” Murine blurted suddenly, her tone fretful.
“He’ll be fine,” Jo said, patting her arm soothingly. “It’s hard to leave them when they’re so young. But ’tis better he’s safe at home rather than traveling through rain and mud and perhaps growing ill from it.”
“Aye.” Murine managed a smile and then paused to open the door to the room she and Dougall shared.
“Do ye think Edith and Niels will bring young Ronny?” Jetta asked as all but the men followed Murine into the room.
The men took up a position on either side of the door in the hall, Evina noticed as she pushed the door closed. It seemed she had watchdogs.
“Oh, nay,” Saidh said at once. “He’s barely a month old.”
“Ronny is Edith’s son?” Evina asked with curiosity, moving to stand by the fireplace to make room for the other women who had clustered by the door.
“Aye,” Jo agreed, moving farther into the room too. “I suspect that’s why it’s taken her and Niels so long to get here. Edith wouldn’t trust just anyone with the baby after everything she went through with her aunt.”
“Aye,” Murine agreed solemnly, moving to a chest by the bed. “Fortunately, I wasn’t betrayed by a Carmichael, so have no’ issues with being able to trust them.”
Here was another couple of stories she thought she might like to hear eventually, Evina thought as they waited for Murine to find her tincture.
“I thought ye had stopped needing the tincture to keep from fainting?” Jo said suddenly as Murine found what she was looking for.
“I did,” she admitted with a wry smile. “Unfortunately, I was so sick while carrying Beathan I couldn’t keep food down and started in fainting again. Dougall insisted I return to taking the tincture, and made me promise to take it for six months after the babe was born to ensure everything was all right before I stop again.”
“Ah.” Jo nodded, not seeming surprised.
Evina didn’t have to ask what they were talking about. Saidh had told her a little bit about each of the women presently in the room and one of the tidbits she’d told her about Murine was that when they’d all first met her, the woman had a terrible habit of fainting at the drop of a cap. In the end, it seemed this had been a result of her not eating enough out of grief over the deaths of several family members one after the other. But it was a situation that had eventually cleared up when the Buchanan brothers had taken her under their care and made her eat more. Evina could understand how the morning sickness many women suffered while carrying their bairns could cause a return of the affliction for Murine.
“Evina, what’s that on yer skirt?” Jo asked suddenly.
Eyebrows rising, Evina glanced at the pale blue skirt of the gown Tildy had chosen for her, but didn’t, at first, see anything.
“Along the hem on the side,” Jo explained, moving toward her.
Evina shifted her attention there and frowned when she saw some sort of black fluff clinging to the hem. Bending, she plucked several tufts of the black bits off her skirt and straightened to peer at them with a frown.
“There’s some on the other side too,” Jo announced, bending to flick it off for her, and then frowning, she added, “And some on the back too. What in heaven’s name . . . It’s all over the floor here. Caught in the rushes.”
“It’s getting caught on yer hem too, Jo,” Saidh announced, taking a step toward them and then pausing and instead saying, “Come away from there, the two of ye.”
They both moved away from the fireplace and closer to the other women, but Evina was staring at the black bits in her hand, her mind working.
“Is that hair?” Jetta asked with disbelief.
“Aye,” Evina said.
“It’s too dark to be Dougall’s or Conran’s,” Murine commented, joining them to peer at the hair she held. “It’s more yer cousin Gavin’s hair color.”
“Aye,” Evina agreed. “But it’s greasy and matted.”
“Tildy said yer attacker’s hair was greasy and matted,” Jetta said with realization.
Evina nodded grimly.
They were all silent for a moment and then Saidh turned to Murine. “Muri, while I knocked on Evina’s door when we first came up, I thought I heard Dougall ask ye if there was a shirt and plaid in here when the two o’ ye first came to the room yesterday?”
“Aye. He said Tildy insisted she’d put a fresh plaid and shirt here for Conran, but Dougall had assured her there was no shirt and plaid. He thought he’d best ask me though, just to be sure there hadn’t been, and he’d just missed my moving it.”
“That’s what I thought he’d said,” Saidh admitted, and turned to meet Evina’s gaze. “What do ye think he did with his clothes?”
“Who?” Murine asked with confusion.
“Me attacker,” Evina answered quietly, not having any problem following Saidh’s thoughts. Her own had been following the same line.
“Oh!” Jetta exclaimed with dismay. “Ye think he hid in here after trying to drown Evina, stole the clothes and shaved his head!”
“Oh, dear,” Murine murmured.
“Ye’re no’ going to faint, are ye?” Evina asked with concern.
“Nay, I don’t think so,” Murine said with a frown, and then shook her head with more certainty. “Nay, I’m fine.”
“Good,” Evina breathed, and smiled at her with relief.
“Did he have enough time to shave his head though?” Jetta asked suddenly, her expression dubious.
Evina considered the question, trying to remember the timing of events the day before. It seemed to her that a goodly amount of time had passed between when she’d woken up after nearly being drowned and the men heading off into the passage. Tildy had explained what had happened: her father had ordered everyone out, but no one had moved quickly. There had been a lot of people and they’d all seemed reluctant to miss out on what was happening. And then, even once her father had opened the passage entrance, they hadn’t headed in to search it. She and her father and Conran had talked a bit more, arguing over whether Gavin could be behind it before Conran had gone out to question Tildy . . .
“Aye,” Saidh decided, even as Evina thought it. “He probably gave himself a cut or two in his rush, but he could have managed it.”
Evina merely nodded and moved back to peer at the floor where she’d been standing. “It looks like he kicked the hair around a bit, trying to mix it in with the rushes to hide it.”