"So I heard." Edda shook her head. "Accidents, the tent in flames, and someone drugging Alex? 'Tis hard to believe."
"Aye," Merry murmured, offering a smile to Lia as the maid appeared with food and drink for her.
"I hope you found Evelinde well?" Edda asked as the maid left.
Recalling Evelinde's comment that she should watch Edda when she told her of her happiness, Merry turned to smile at her widely and watched her expression as she gushed, "Oh, aye. She is wonderfully happy. 'Tis obvious she and Cullen are very much in love. The man dotes on her and she on him. 'Twas enough to make me jealous."
"What a relief," Edda said, and the words seemed genuine, as did her concern as she admitted, "I fear I have been fretting over the girl. We were not close, but still, she was my husband's daughter and I did worry how she would get along with the Devil of Donnachaidh. By all accounts he is a cold, heartless bastard." She paused and shook her head. "But I suppose such names mean little in Scotland, and these tales just spread and grow until they carry little truth. After all, they call you the Stewart Shrew and that title hardly fits, does it?" She laughed.
Merry smiled and then turned to her food, now thoroughly confused. The woman truly seemed happy and relieved that Evelinde was well. Either she was a much better actor than Evelinde had supposed, or the woman really had turned a new leaf. It made Merry feel guilty for the suspicions she'd allowed the others to bring about in her. She herself had been falsely accused and knew how hurtful it could be. Now she was anxious about her promise to see Edda sent away to visit her sister. She still intended to carry that plan through, but was troubled at the prospect and found herself unable to join in properly as Edda chattered away keeping her company. Fortunately, she had the excuse of eating and drinking to cover her silence, but she was grateful when she was done and could excuse herself to go check on how things had gone while she was away.
Merry's guilt and discomfort made her avoid Edda for the rest of the day, and it was not until supper that she spoke to the woman again. Her mother-in-law was as cheerful and happy to see her then as she'd been that morning, but--terribly aware of Alex beside her and knowing he suspected the woman as much as his sister did--Merry found herself extremely uncomfortable through that meal as well.
When the sup had ended and Edda suggested they relax by the fire to attend to mending, Merry forced a smile and promised to join her in a moment and then waited until she had moved away from the table before turning to Alex.
"You are finding dealing with Edda difficult," Alex said sympathetically the moment his stepmother was out of earshot.
Merry was surprised at his intuition, but nodded silently and managed a true if weak smile when he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to her lips. Once he'd straightened again, he peered at her solemnly and then suggested, "Mayhap it would be for the best did we send her away to her sister's as you suggested."
"Evelinde suggested it," Merry said quickly, feeling disloyal enough without taking the full burden of responsibility for sending the woman away. Still, she could not wholly shirk the responsibility. "But, aye, mayhap 'tis fer the best."
"Then I shall ask her sister's name and suggest a visit," he said simply.
"Evelinde told me the name," Merry murmured, but then paused. The sound of the great hall door opening had distracted him, and Alex was glancing toward it, a scowl claiming his lips as he saw who entered. Merry followed his gaze, her eyebrows rising slightly as she saw that it was Godfrey. The lad hadn't attended the sup and she'd thought he must be on a chore for Alex. Judging by her husband's irritated expression as he stood to meet the lad, if he had been on a chore for him, Godfrey hadn't been quick enough about the task.
"What the hell took you so long?" Alex asked irritably as the boy came to a stumbling halt before him. "I sent you to the village shortly after noon. You should have been back hours ago."
"I am sorry, my lord," Godfrey said quickly, and then, shamefaced, admitted, "I met a courier on the way, got turned around in the woods, and lost my way back. I have been wandering for hours. I--Here. He gave me this letter to bring to you."
Alex scowled, but took the letter and barked less angrily, "You missed the sup. Go to the kitchens and get yourself something to eat."
"Aye, my lord. Thank you, my lord." The boy hurried off, disappearing into the kitchens as quickly as his legs would carry him, probably more in a rush to escape his lord's angry glare than an eagerness to find food.
Merry's gaze slid back to her husband as he untied the ribbon around the scroll and then unrolled it. "What is it?"
"'Tis just a letter from his father, checking on how he is faring," Alex said. "He frets about the boy unnecessarily. I think 'tis because he is so small for his age and looks so much younger than he is." He paused to glance at her and then added with a grin, "I hope our own sons inherit their size from me."
Merry smiled faintly, her mind immediately moving to ponder their possible children and what they might look like as she asked, "How old is Godfrey?"
"Sixteen. Near a man, really, and much older than most boys are when sent away to squire, but as I say, I suspect his size and young looks have made his parents overprotective," Alex murmured as he turned back to continue reading the missive.
Merry's eyes widened with surprise. "Godfrey is indeed small and young-looking for his age. I would ha'e guessed him to be no more than twelve or thirteen. He barely has any meat or muscle on him."
"Aye, well, he's stronger than he looks," Alex murmured, setting the letter on the table. He then gave her a quick kiss even as he got to his feet to move toward the kitchen. "Excuse me, wife, I forgot to ask him how he fared with the task I'd set him. We can continue this discussion about sending Edda away later in our room where prying ears will not hear."
Merry nodded her understanding and watched him head to the kitchens before moving to join Edda by the fire as she'd promised.
"Alex looked annoyed," Edda commented as Merry took the seat across from her and began to poke through the endless mending that needed doing. "Is Godfrey failing in his position of squire?"
"Nay. Well, I do not think so. Alex apparently sent the boy to the village after lunch and expected him back much sooner, but Godfrey got lost on the return journey."
"From the village?" Edda asked with a bark of disbelieving laughter. She shook her head. "That boy is forever getting himself lost. He needs a couple of lessons in navigating ere he's let loose again, else he'll find himself in the wrong place at the wrong time and beset by bandits."
"Aye," Merry said, and decided she would mention as much to her husband this evening when they retired to their room.
"I need a refill on my mead, Merry," Edda announced suddenly, setting her sewing aside. "How about you?"
"Nay. I am fine, but I can fetch it fer ye, if ye like," Merry offered, eager for an excuse to escape the mending. It was not one of her favorite tasks.
"Nay, nay, that is all right," Edda said, getting to her feet. "My fingers are sore and stiff from sewing and I could use the chance to stretch my legs. You go on and get started, I shall return directly."
Merry watched her go and then glanced down to the braies in her lap and grimaced. She really wasn't in the mood for sewing, but it had to be done. She set to work, her thoughts wandering as she sewed, and then glanced up eagerly when the kitchen door opened once more and she saw Edda returning.
"I have decided I am rather weary tonight, Merry," the older woman announced, pausing beside her chair. "I think I shall retire early and finish this tomorrow night."
"Oh, all right," Merry murmured, and then offered a smile. "Well, good sleep then, Edda."
"Thank you, dear. And you, too. See you in the morning."
Merry nodded and watched her head off, then glanced back to her sewing once more, but managed only one stitch before restlessness had her setting it aside and wandering to the trestle table. She thought she would wait there for her husband's return and then suggest they, too, r
etire early. She was not tired herself, but was bored, and they might as well retire to their rooms where they could discuss Edda in privacy and decide how they were to approach her on taking a visit with her sister.
Merry settled at the table and began to toy absently with the letter from Godfrey's father, rolling the scroll around on the tabletop as she waited. After another moment's passing, she then unrolled the scroll for something to do and glanced over the contents with a bored eye. It was exactly what Alex had said it was, a letter from Godfrey's father asking about his welfare and how he was working out as squire. It wasn't until her eye slid to the signature that Merry's ennui died an abrupt death.
"Lord Alfred Duquet," she breathed the name aloud, her mind suddenly in an uproar. Evelinde had said Duquet was the name of Edda's sister's husband. Godfrey was Edda's nephew? Surely Alex would have mentioned it, she thought, and then recalled his saying that he'd forgotten Edda even had a sister and could not recall her name. He didn't know, she realized. And neither Godfrey nor Edda had mentioned it. Why?
Not for any good purpose, she decided with grim certainty and headed for the kitchens. This was something she needed to talk to Alex about at once. If Godfrey was Edda's nephew, he might very well have been the one behind the attacks on their journey, she thought, and suddenly recalled that he was the first person she'd run into on bringing Alex back from the waterfall. He'd claimed--and she'd believed him when he said--that he was coming from camp to relieve himself, but now she wondered if he hadn't been checking to see if his attempt had succeeded and his lord was dead. He certainly hadn't continued on with his chore to relieve himself that she knew of.
Merry didn't like to believe the thoughts now crowding her head, for she liked Godfrey, but this news placed suspicion firmly on his head...and Edda's, she realized unhappily, suddenly sure the kind woman who had been so welcoming to her since her arrival was just a facade. Evelinde had been certain Edda could not have changed, but Merry had been sure she was wrong. Now, however, she tended to think her sister-in-law might be right. It still didn't all make sense, but with this new bit of information perhaps she and Alex could sort it out. Or at least question the pair of them and get to the bottom of matters, she hoped, pushing the kitchen door open and peering around the busy room for her husband.
Her mouth tightened with displeasure when she didn't spot either him or Godfrey, and then her gaze landed on Una chatting with the old servant, Bet, and she headed in her direction.
"Una? Have you seen Alex?"
"Aye. He took Godfrey up to the tower."