A slow rumble of murmuring floated through the room as options were considered.
“We could send a couple of scouts tae see what they might discover,” Duncan said. It had been something he had been thinking about it in the last day but wanted to see if any other options might come up in the meeting first.
Jamie regarded him for a long moment, clearly considering the notion, before nodding. “Aye. All things considered, I think that might well be our better course of action.”
The rest of the men agreed once more, as they always did when Jamie made a suggestion. He was revered by the rest of them, though it was never explicitly stated.
For a time afterwards, the particulars of such a venture were discussed. Later, when the council left, Jamie took Duncan over to one side.
“Yer as wise as yer father was, Duncan. But I cannae help but notice a little doubt in yer conviction. Trust in yer own judgment, for it isnae lacking.”
“I am grateful for yer support, Jamie. It means a great deal tae me.”
“We must talk soon about the matter of the continuance of the clan, Duncan,” he said softly albeit firmly. “I ken yer still suffering, but the MacDougall Clan is bigger than just yersel.”
“Aye, I ken,” Duncan replied with a heavy sigh.
Duncan sat in the chair behind his desk after everyone had left, his head heavily in his hands. The conversation had done nothing to alleviate his grief. While the others talked about going after Clan Mackintosh, Duncan had only seen his wife's lifeless body lying on the ground, dumped on the forest floor like a discarded carcass. Her arms had been wrapped around their baby boy, most likely to comfort him as her life had been drained from her.
A light tapping on the study door caused him to lift his head. “Come.”
While he expected Finn or Keir, it was his mother who entered the room, closing the door behind her. Mary MacDougall was still a fine-looking woman. Even with her brown hair now greying in places, her beauty still shone forth. The slender figure, still straight as a rod, just as he had always remembered.
“Mother,” Duncan said, rising from his chair.
“How was yer meeting with the council, Duncan?”
“Fruitful. We are sending some men tae Clan Mackintosh tae garner information about the dagger.”
“And then what?” she said pointedly. “Start yet another war?”
“I cannae stand idly when I ken such information, Mother.”
“And risking yer life will neither bring Cora nor Eoin back, Duncan. Would ye put the clan in jeopardy for something that is already lost?”
Duncan raised his hand up to stop her. “I dinnae wish tae discuss this further, Mother. It has been decided and my orders will be carried out.”
“I see. And what o’ this new woman?”
“What new woman?”
“Naething gets decided in this castle without I hear o’ it, Duncan,” she said, looking at him knowingly. “I cannae say I am comfortable living under the same roof as a lady o’ pleasure.”
Duncan smiled, devoid ofmirth. Stepping around the desk, he approached his mother and kissed her cheek tenderly. “Who does or doesnae live in this castle is my decision, Mother.”
Duncan retired to his bedchamber later thatafternoon. He noticed Elaine in her new surroundings as he approached through an open door. She was laying clothes in the drawers of a heavy wooden dresser with her back to him, revealing her soft brown hair. He walked up behind her quietly, watching as she lifted and admired some papers. He couldn't deny that the pictures were beautiful and had been drawn with great skill, despite the fact that the paper was thin and the chalk was of poor quality.
A smile danced across his lips, and he reached out his hands to grab her from behind. She let out a yelp and swung around toward him, her fists raised and ready to fight, which caught him off guard. When she realized it was him, she became nervous. As if she should not have reacted in this way.
“My, my, Elaine. Ye are full o’ surprises.”
“I apologize,” she said, a little breathlessly. “It is only, ye ken, with our work, ye can never be too careful. We’re taught tae be able tae defend ourselves.”
Duncan suddenly frowned at the thought of anyone laying a finger on her. “And has there been a need for ye tae dae so?” If he discovered such a man, he’d happily relieve his head from his shoulders.
“Nae, nae, there hasnae,” she replied quickly.
“Good,” Duncan replied with a weight to his tone. “I see ye like tae draw.” He inclined his head to the pictures that now lay upon the dresser.