Joan merely nodded in agreement. She had certainly been lucky he'd appeared. Joan suspected Toothless would have beaten her to death if he hadn't.
"Here we are," Lady Sinclair said a moment later as she showed them into Cam's room. "As I said, if we're lucky at least one or two o' the girls will leave by the day after next now that Cam is no longer available. It may take until the end of the week to be rid o' the rest, but at least they'll soon be gone." She had paused at the door, and now smiled at Joan as she moved past her into the room, adding, "We shall all be forever grateful to ye fer that."
"Not enjoying the company, Bearnas?" Annabel asked with amusement.
Lady Sinclair snorted at the suggestion. "I used to think it would ha'e been nice to ha'e a passel o' daughters, half a dozen or so, but this has opened me eyes quite a bit. 'Tis amazing how horrible females can be in herds. Most o' them ha'e been fine, but a couple o' them . . ." She shook her head with disgust. "Arguing, insulting each other, and e'en trying to sabotage another by cutting up gowns and such."
Annabel arched an eyebrow. "Finola?"
"Until yer arrival I would ha'e said no. Aileen said she'd overheard Finola insulting one o' the girls and that she was no' as nice as she seemed, but I did no' believe her at the time. The woman has acted as sweet as pie ever since arriving, always offering to help me, and wearing pretty, sedate gowns. Then Douglas returned with the news that Campbell was riding up with guests and the women were all aflutter. They all rushed to their rooms to freshen up. Me eyes nearly fell out o' me head when Finola came down in that gown she's wearing. And then the way she acted at the table . . ." Lady Sinclair shook her head. "It makes me wonder what the other girls are really like."
"Hmmm," Lady Annabel murmured sympathetically, and Lady Sinclair sighed and shrugged.
"I should go start writing me messages and sending them to the families. The sooner they send riding parties to collect their girls, the sooner they'll be gone." She turned to the door, adding, "I'll ha'e servants bring ye food and drink and water to wash with."
"SO? TELL ME."
Cam raised his eyebrows at his father's words, and then glanced around as servants rushed out of the kitchen with the requested drinks for everyone.
"Leave a pitcher o' ale and four tankards here," Laird Sinclair ordered. "The rest go up to Cam's room and the solar."
He waited for the servants to head up the stairs, and then turned and surveyed his three sons before settling his gaze on Cam. "The truth this time, lad. And all o' it so we ken what we're dealing with. Who is the girl?"
Cam sat back slightly and took a drink o' ale, swallowed, then shrugged. "Most o' what I said was the truth. Joan is Laird and Lady Annabel's niece."
"Impossible," Douglas said at once. "Neither Laird MacKay nor his wife had siblings."
"Lady Annabel did," Cam's father said quietly. "Kate, her name was as I recall, and she caused a passel o' trouble fer those two back in the day."
"What kind o' trouble?" Aiden asked.
"The lass was the one originally contracted to marry the MacKay, but she ran off and married another. The parents presented him with Annabel in her place," Artair Sinclair recounted.
"Sounds more like good fortune than trouble to me," Douglas commented. "Laird and Lady MacKay are very happy together."
"Aye, they were from the start," their father murmured. "But then the sister, Kate, showed up at their door in tears, claiming she regretted her choice and such. It was all bullocks," he added dryly. "She just wanted her pie and the cake too. She wanted the Scottish stable boy she'd married and the MacKay coin as well. She cried her way into MacKay castle and her sister's good graces, then she and her man stole the coin and kidnapped Lady Annabel too."
"What happened?" Aiden asked with fascination.
"The MacKay caught up to them. He got Annabel and the coin back, but the husband was killed in the skirmish, and Kate was sent to an English abbey for punishment."
"It does no' sound like much o' a punishment to me," Douglas muttered.
"Nay?" Artair Sinclair asked with amusement. "We've had a passel o' women here at Sinclair this last week or more. How ha'e ye liked it?"
Douglas grimaced. "It's been hell."
"Aye, well imagine living with hundreds o' them, and ye can no' just get on yer horse and leave, no e'en for a minute's respite."
"Oh, aye, that's punishment, all right," Aiden breathed, obviously horrified at the thought. Cam couldn't blame him. It had been hell the first time his mother had filled the keep with women. That was why he'd gone off to find work as a mercenary. Better war than a castle full of women.
"And this Kate is Joan's mother?" Douglas asked, frowning.
Cam nodded. "Aye. She was carrying Joan when she went to the abbey. She died giving birth to her."
"Who raised her?" his father asked at once.
Cam hesitated, but then decided there was nothing for it and admitted, "The abbess gave Joan to the midwife to be rid of her. The woman was a healer as well as a midwife and raised her as her own, teaching her all she knew."
"And now that the lass is grown she went looking fer her rich relatives?" Douglas suggested cynically.
Cam shook his head. "The woman never told her who she really was. Joan had no idea she was related to the MacKays when I met her. She did no' ken that until yesterday."
"Then why was she on her way to MacKay when ye encountered her?" Aiden asked.
Cam sighed, and quickly explained about the deathbed request and the sealed scroll. He also explained the true version of how he'd encountered Joan and come to be traveling with her. Well, a slightly edited true version. It was none of their business that he'd been acting like a randy bull the last two weeks. When he finished, he stared into his tankard, waiting for his father's pronouncement.
Cam half expected the man would rear up with outrage, upset that he'd married the daughter of a thief and would-be murderer and demand he annul the marriage.
Which would mean a holy argument because he had no intention of doing that.
"So, she's half Scot," his father said finally, and Cam glanced up quickly with surprise.
"Aye, I suppose she is," he said slowly.
"And she was raised by a healer in the village, not that Kate woman, so will no' be spoiled and greedy like her mother," Aiden pointed out.
"She is no' spoiled," Cam assured him. "In truth, she's smart, and funny and a skilled healer. She's no' afraid o' hard work."
"She's brave too, setting out alone to deliver her mother's message," Douglas decided reluctantly. "Foolish, but brave."
"Aye," Cam agreed. It had been foolish--brave, but foolish. She could have died. Would have died had he not happened upon her and her attackers when he had.
"It was clever of her to dress as a boy fer the journey," Aiden commented, and then grinned and added, "I wish I'd seen her dressed as a boy."
The comment made Douglas turn on Cam with disbelief. "How the devil could ye mistake the lass fer a lad? Even in braies I'd ken she was a woman on first sight. Her bosoms are--"
"She had her breasts bound," Cam growled, not liking his brother mentioning Joan's breasts, let alone knowing he'd taken note of her generous curves.
"Oh," Douglas said, but then shrugged. "Still, there's her face. She has a pretty face. Nothing like a boy's."
"Her face was swollen and bruised from the beating the bandit was giving her when I came upon them," Cam said impatiently. "She still has a little bruising on her temple by her ear."
"Aye, I noticed that," Douglas murmured and then shook his head. "It's been how long since the attack? Roderick and Bryson ha'e been home fer more than two weeks."
"Two weeks four days," Cam said, quickly adding the two week journey, the three days he'd been unconscious, and then today.
"Two weeks four days," Douglas murmured and shook his head. "She must ha'e taken a hell o' a beating to still ha'e bruising after this much time has passed."
"Aye. It was bad," Cam said. "Her face looked much like Bryson's after Comyn got done with him that time he caught him with his wife."
"Oh, that's bad," Aiden said with a grimace. "She must ha'e been in terrible pain."
"Aye," Cam agreed and then marveled, "She never once complained, though."