Murine stared at what Saidh was doing with the bread and carrot and thought to herself that this was the most pitiful thing she had ever seen. Had she not already been bedded by Dougall, she would most likely be horrified and dismayed at this display. Good Lord.
"But it's much nicer than this looks," Saidh assured her, continuing to thrust the carrot into the bread. She was missing the slit entirely, and mashing the bread with each push. "He'll kiss ye and such first, and ye'll get all excited and feel like punching him hard in the face." She jammed the carrot into the bread this time as if the carrot was her fist and the loaf his face. "But then ye'll feel like a little explosion has gone off in yer body and 'twill be so nice."
Much to Murine's relief, Saidh stopped beating up the bread with the carrot then and gave a little sigh. Whether it signified her relief that she had finished the explanations she'd felt she should give, or Saidh was thinking of how nice the release felt, Murine wasn't sure. She was still caught on the part about wanting to punch him hard in the face. Murine had never experienced quite that desire with Dougall yet. Mayhap he wasn't doing it right.
"Understand?" Saidh asked, eyeing her hopefully.
"Er . . . uh huh." Murine nodded quickly.
"Oh, thank God," Saidh muttered, tossing her props on the table and then dropping into the seat across from Murine's. She then eyed her barely touched goblet of wine and asked, "Are ye going to drink that?"
"Nay," Murine said with amusement, offering it to her. The whole ordeal had obviously distressed Saidh much more than her, she decided and thought it might be a good thing if Saidh had all sons and no daughters with Greer. The woman would never survive a house full of daughters.
"As I told Saidh, I knew Beathan Carmichael, and I find it hard to believe he'd leave Murine's care and future in the hands o' Montrose Danvries. He had little respect for his wife's son."
Murine glanced up from the chicken she was eating at that comment from Saidh's husband. The wedding had gone off without a hitch. The MacDonnell priest had been happy to preside over the wedding, and there had been no sudden arrival of Montrose to put an end to things. She was married and safe from his machinations, or at least she would be once they'd officially consummated their marriage.
That being the case, Murine had been happy to settle down to the wedding feast and enjoy the meal, and without the usual bride's fear of the night to come. She already knew what to expect, and not because of Saidh's odd visual presentation.
Murine was seated beside Saidh with their husbands on either side of them, Dougall next to Murine and Greer next to Saidh. Dougall's brothers had then taken up seats on either side of the men and the conversation had been light and filled with congratulations and well wishes as the food was carried out. Murine had let it drift around her as she ate, but now lifted her head at that comment from Greer.
"I was thinking the same thing," Dougall responded solemnly.
"Well, it bothered me enough that I've had an ear out on the matter and I've learned a couple o' interesting things," Greer informed him.
Dougall stiffened with interest. "What ha'e ye learned?"
"Murine's cousin, Connor, is the second son o' the Barclay and her father's sister," Greer announced, and then added, "The Barclay died a couple years back, leaving all to the eldest son."
Dougall shrugged, appearing disappointed. "That's no unusual. 'Tis common for the eldest to inherit the title and land. Aulay got Buchanan and became laird when our father died."
"Aye, but I bet yer father left something to each o' ye other boys," Greer said solemnly.
"Aye, we each got a parcel o' land and some coin," Conran said from Dougall's other side.
"Well, Barclay left Connor no' even a farthing. It seems he was sure his wife was unfaithful and Connor was no' his son."
Dougall raised his eyebrows at that and looked thoughtful.
"I also learned that less than a year after the father's death, the brother banished Connor from Barclay. The rumor is there were some unexplained deaths and accidents around the new laird that nearly took his life. He apparently suspected his brother but could no' prove anything."
"So he banished him," Dougall murmured.
"Aye." Greer nodded and then cautioned, "'Tis just rumor though, I have a man looking into it, but it's no' been verified yet."
Dougall nodded his understanding, and picked up a chicken leg. Murine turned her own attention back to her food as he bit into the drumstick.
"There's more," Saidh announced when Greer turned his attention back to his own food. "Edith wrote me. She'd just returned from court with her family and says yer cousin Connor was there when she first arrived. She said a friend o' yer father's was there. Laird MacIntyre, I think it was."
"Aye, Laird MacIntyre and me father were dear friends," Murine verified with a smile at the thought of the man. He'd been a large part of her life while growing up.
"Well, Edith wrote that Laird MacIntyre cornered Connor at court and confronted him in front of everyone about his getting the castle and title while ye were shuttled off to yer brother's in England. He said, 'Beatie would ne'er do that to wee Murine.' He did no' believe it fer a minute, and was demanding to see the will to make sure it was no' a forgery or something."
"Ye ne'er told me that!" Greer exclaimed suddenly.
Saidh turned to offer him an apology. "I ken, I'm sorry. But that was the letter the messenger brought just as me brothers and Murine rode in. I did no' get the chance to read it until after I finished helping her dress." She shrugged apologetically. "And then I did no' get the chance to tell ye what with the wedding and everything."
"Oh." Greer squeezed her hand and bent to press a kiss to her forehead. Then he straightened and asked. "Did Connor produce the will?"
Saidh shook her head. "He said he would hardly bring it to court. It was at Carmichael, and MacIntyre was welcome to visit him there if he wanted to look at it," Saidh answered and then turned to Murine and said, "Ye've no' seen the will, ha'e ye?"
She shook her head.
"Were ye no' there for the reading after he died?" Dougall asked with a frown.
"Nay," Murine said quietly. "I was at Sinclair when father died. Montrose showed up there, broke the news of father's death, and took me directly to England. I have no' been to Carmichael since I left for Sinclair. But," she added as everyone fell silent. "I doubt the will is forged. Connor was the beneficiary and he had never been to Carmichael ere he got the news he'd inherited the castle and title," she pointed out
"But Danvries was," Greer said quietly. "I was told he arrived just before yer father died."
Murine nodded. "I gather he went to Carmichael in the hopes that Mother would give him more coin. She'd given him some in the past when he'd gambled too deep," she explained.
"But yer mother was dead by then," Saidh pointed out.
"Aye, but he didn't know that," Murine said, then grimaced and explained. "So much happened in such a short time. First me brothers died, then Mother was ill, and then Father got sick as well." Murine paused and then admitted with embarrassment, "In truth, I did no' even think to write Montrose to let him know. I don't think Father did either." Feeling guilty that she could forget to write her half brother and let him know that their mother was dead, she tried to explain. "Montrose was not really a part of our life. He lived in England and showed up at Carmichael perhaps a handful of times over the last ten years, and then it was usually to beg a favor or money from Mother."
"And she gave it to him?" Aulay asked curiously.
Murine nodded.
"What did yer father think o' that?" Dougall asked quietly.
Murine smiled crookedly. "He hated it. The only fights they ever had were about it. He used to berate her fer giving it to him, saying Montrose should learn to stand on his own two feet."
"Which makes it even stranger that yer father would leave ye in his care," Dougall pointed out grimly.
"Aye," Greer agreed.
It was A
ulay who said, "I'm thinkin' MacIntyre had it right and ye might want to see this will, lass. Something does no' smell right here."
Murine frowned, but before she could protest, Greer asked, "Ye say Connor was never at Carmichael, but Danvries showed up just ere yer father died?" When Murine nodded, he glanced to Saidh and back before saying, "Saidh told me that the death of yer father came as something o' a shock? That he had been recuperating when ye left fer Sinclair?"
"Aye," she murmured. "He was well on the mend. I would no' ha'e left had that no' been the case."
"Murine told us that on the journey to Buchanan," Alick announced. "What of it?"
Greer opened his mouth, then closed it and bent to whisper something in Saidh's ear. Her eyebrows rose, but then she stood and glanced at Murine as she announced, "I'm thinking it's time to get ye ready for the bedding."
Murine blinked up at her in surprise and then felt a blush heat her face as the men all began to cheer in agreement. Sticking out her tongue at the lot of them, she got to her feet and caught Saidh's arm to drag her away from the table as quickly as possible.