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.She closed her eyes and prayed again.A light rap sounded at the door.“M’lady?” A woman’s voice.“I’ve some porridge for you.”Margaret quickly covered her shift by slinging the plaid around her shoulders.“Come in.”The round-faced woman walked through the door carrying a tray.“After your ordeal last eve, I thought you’d need some oats to warm your insides.”“That is very kind of you…ah…”“Alana.”“Such a lovely name.”“Thank you.” Alana set the tray on the table.“’Tis cold in here.”“Aye, I was just about to light the fire.”“I’ll do it.” She gestured to the chair.“Sit and break your fast, m’lady.”“’Tis ever so kind.” Margaret sat and lifted the wooden spoon.Worry squeezed her stomach.She had to know… “Did they find Mevan?”“Two guards brought him in before dawn.The rest of the men are still out there chasing the brigands.”Margaret swallowed.She didn’t want to ask.“Is he…?”“He’s alive.Barely.The women are tending him.”Margaret pushed back the chair and stood.“I must see him.His heroism cannot go unrewarded.”Alana struck the flint.“Very well, I’ll take you after you eat your porridge.But you’ll have to be quick.An escort to Dunstaffnage is waiting.”“I shan’t be going back there.Mevan is my responsibility.I will not ride away and leave him.”“Aye?” Alana questioned over her shoulder.“I think Lord Campbell gave clear instructions for the guard to take you back to the castle.”“He may very well have, but I am staying.My husband is not here to counter otherwise.” She sliced her hand through the air.“That’s the end of it.”Alana rose from lighting the fire and brushed her hands on her apron.“I do like your spirit, m’lady.”Margaret discarded her plaid and reached for her gown.“I’ll see to Mevan’s care and tend to a few things first.When I was here last, you told me the building project needs management.”Alana’s eyebrows arched with surprise.“That I did.”“I want to meet Tom Elliot and speak to the laborers, among other things.” Margaret turned for Alana to tie her laces.“Colin’s son is well cared for at Dunstaffnage and shan’t need anything from me for quite some time.I’m absolutely positive a few days here would be far more productive than at the castle.”“If you should need anything, mine is the first cottage up the hill.” The MacGregor woman patted her shoulder.“Thank you for listening back at the river.I’d been wondering if anything would come of it.”“I only wish I could have acted sooner.” Margaret turned.“You’ve been ever so kind.I should like to come calling if it wouldn’t be any trouble.”Alana’s cheeks shone bright red.“It would be an honor.”Margaret quickly ate a few bites of porridge then followed Alana to Mevan’s cot, situated in a small room at the back of the stable.“This is a hospital of sorts—where men are stitched up and that type of thing, since there’s no abbey nearby.”Another thing to add to Margaret’s growing list.“Once the tower house is completed I’ll ensure a grand-sized chapel will follow.”“That would be a blessing indeed, m’lady.”A woman tended Mevan, cleansing his wounds.He lay on his back with linens pulled up to his waist.Margaret stepped to the bed to better inspect him.His shoulder was bandaged, with blood seeping through it.His face was bruised and swollen, his nose at an awkward angle, a nasty gash on one side.His eyes were closed, purple puffiness surrounding them.This was her fault.Margaret wrung her hands.“Is he awake?”He opened one eye to a mere slit.“Aye, m’lady,” he managed through puffy lips.Margaret dropped to her knees and reached for his hand, the only thing she could touch without causing more pain.“Thank you, thank you, dear Mevan.You fought like a lion.”He smiled, then grimaced.She bent forward and kissed his fingers.“No need to say a word.We shall take you back to your family as soon as you are able to ride.I will see to it you are compensated for your gallantry.”Mevan licked his lips.“M’lady.”She stood and pressed a kiss to his forehead.“Heal well, for there’s no one I’d rather have guarding my person than you, sir.” Turning, she placed a hand on the attendant’s shoulder.“See to it he receives uninterrupted care.If he should want for anything, notify me straight away.”She curtseyed.“Aye, m’lady.”***It didn’t take much convincing to dismiss her escort and put them back to work on the castle.However, they made it clear all would face the lord’s ire when he returned.Margaret knew that well enough.She’d already faced Colin’s ire more than she cared, but she wasn’t afraid of him like the others seemed to be.He could affect a mean expression and bellow, but if he was going to raise a hand to her, he would have done it last night for certain.She still couldn’t believe she’d slapped him.What was she thinking? Perhaps they simply were not compatible.She huffed.Now was not the time to dwell on her misshapen marriage.Tom Elliot was working under a lean-to with his shirtsleeves rolled up, chiseling out a stone buttress for the kitchen ceiling.He proved all too happy to tell her about the problems he’d encountered on this project.He appeared so wound up about losing his job, Margaret needed to say something to appease him.“If Lord Glenorchy finds the plunderer, you’ll not be forced to continually make repairs.My guess is the supply will keep pace, as well.”“I certainly hope so.I order timber and tools, and God only knows when or if they’ll arrive.”“Have you not a blacksmith on site?” she asked.He spread his palms in a woeful gesture.“No, m’lady.We use the smithy at Dunstaffnage.”“Heavens, that is restrictive.Is there anyone in Glen Orchy who can work a bellows and an anvil?”“Tormond Campbell is apprenticing at the castle now.”“How long has he been there?”“Longer than I’ve been building Kilchurn.”“Hmm.It seems there’s something we could do about that.” She walked beside Tom and studied the foundation site.“I’d like to see this completed before Lord Colin returns.”Tom scratched his head.“That’s unlikely.”“What do you need?”He kicked a stone.“A steady stream of supplies and a great deal of prayers.”“I’ll see to that.” Margaret patted his shoulder.“Tell the men there will be extra rations if their goals are met.”Two men lumbered past, each carrying a yoke with buckets of water tethered to the ends.Margaret stared.“What’s that?”Tom clapped his chest with pride.“Water for the mortar, m’lady.”“You must be jesting.”“No.” He eyed her as if she were daft.“We need water to mix mortar.”She sighed.“I helped my father build the west tower at Dunalasdair, and I assure you, men were not carrying water on their backs.That takes far too long.”Tom’s face turned scarlet.“It works…”Margaret pointed toward the loch.“Build a trough.One man simply stands beside it and pours in buckets of water.Gravity moves the water to your site.Simple.Have it done by the end of the day.Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a blacksmith to hail.”Drop-jawed, Tom stared after her as she turned and strode away.She would have this building project moving.Colin would see some improvement before he returned—providing he didn’t arrive too quickly.After sending a messenger to Dunstaffnage to fetch Tormond Campbell, Margaret sat down with Tom’s ledgers.She would understand the problems behind this project, and find ways to solve them one by one.If Lord Glenorchy didn’t want her meddling, he could go sit in a meadow of stinging nettles.Chapter ThirteenThe Highlands, 15th October, 1455If only this blasted drizzle would stop
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