Even after everything she did know of him—his role as a Hunter, his bloody past—she loved him. But he hadn’t yet told her his name.
And when she’d proposed marriage to him, he’d laughed.
“And we dinnae even ken why he’s here!” Robena pointed out.
Nicola scoffed. “He’s here because his friend was wounded. He’s visited Brodie in the sickroom daily.”
But Mother shook her head. “Last evening, he asked yer father about a name. McElvy?”
“McIlvain,” Leanna corrected softly. When they all looked at her, she inhaled and straightened. “He’s here searching for a man named McIlvain. That is his mission, and he had reason to suspect McIlvain came here to Oliphant Castle.”
Her sisters were frowning thoughtfully, and Mother shook her head. “I didnae recognize the name when he said it last night, and I dinnae recognize it now.”
“Nor I,” agreed Nicola.
“ ‘Tis a clan in the west Highlands, on Uist I believe,” Wynda said thoughtfully.
Robena pointed out, “Is the man the McIlvain, or a McIlvain?”
Helpless, Leanna shrugged. “I dinnae ken. But Kenneth is looking for him, and I promised I’d help.”
Wynda offered her a small smile. “Well, ye can assure him the womenfolk of Oliphant Castle havenae seen him.”
“Aye,” Mother agreed. “And if yer father had kenned of his presence, I would’ve kenned as well.”
Leanna had to agree with that. So she nodded as she picked up the cursed needle once more. “ ‘Tis as I told him. McIlvain never made it here to Oliphant Castle. He’ll have to accept that as the truth.”
Beware the Oliphants?
There was nothing to be wary of here.
Assuming he’d told her the truth…
* * *
It took him a while,but he finally caught up with Coira beside the training field. Did the woman ever slow down? Already that morning, Kenneth had been a step behind her from her father’s solar to the stables to the smithy to the falconer’s. Apparently, he’d guessed correctly that the eldest Oliphant sister did more to ensure the clan’s prosperity than her father.
And judging by the fact Kenneth had last seen the laird hunched over a book, singing to himself as his finger followed along the lines on the page, that didn’t seem too difficult.
Coira was scowling, as usual, as she stood with her arms crossed, staring at the warriors sparring. She didn’t seem interested in any one warrior in particular, but rather in discussing something with Doughall. The Oliphant commander stood beside her, his arms folded across his chest in a similar manner, and his legs planted firmly in the bare soil.
Actually, the pair of them looked quite similar, even down to the way they nodded quickly when they agreed with the other or frowned when they didn’t.
Kenneth stepped up on her other side and settled his own arms across his chest, his sword brushing against his leg as he watched the men train. Years of judging threats and calculating plans of attack had him studying each sparring pair for weaknesses.
“Samuel!” Doughall suddenly bellowed. “Keep yer right elbow up, ye bastard! Up!”
From the corner of his eye, Kenneth saw Coira nodding.
“He’s going to get skewered one of these days,” she muttered.
The commander grunted in agreement. “Possibly by me. Up, Samuel! Good!” The last part was a roar.
Now that Kenneth could see which of the warriors was Samuel—the light-haired one with the twitchy elbow, and the terrified expression of course—he agreed with Doughall’s assessment. In fact…
For the first time, he forced himself to see the group of warriors in front of him, not as potential threats to be accounted for, but as men who required bolstering and feedback. He saw an older man who obviously favored his left leg and how he accounted for that; a lad who was talented with a blade, but reckless; and a young man who held the sword as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
In battle, with these men as opponents, Kenneth would see all these lacks and immediately know how to take advantage of them. But Doughall had to see these deficits and try to fix them in order to improve his warriors.