Quest of the Highlander (Crowns & Kilts #5) - Cynthia Wright Page 0,8

Duncan.

“Our nurse, Isbeil, was your sister, was she not?”

“Aye. May the saints be with her.” Duncan raised his glass and drank to his departed sister.

“Is it true that ye came to the aid of our mother, when she and Isbeil had to travel from the Isle of Skye? Our da remembers that ye were the one who took them over the water to…” He let his voice trail off, hoping that Duncan might quickly supply the answer he sought.

“Aye, I did help them. ’Twas many years ago.” The old man glanced at Ciaran and smiled nostalgically. “This proud warrior was but a wee bairn. I recall that he took a liking to my old hound, Rufus. They’d curl up together in the bow of the galley, like kittens.”

Feeling impatient, Lennox leaned forward. “Tell us more. Where exactly did ye take them?”

Duncan removed his bonnet and scratched his balding pate. “As I recall, we traveled to a tower house, where your ma was welcomed.”

“Was it Hilltower?” Lennox supplied, holding his breath. That was the name of his mother’s ancestral family home, north of Edinburgh.

“Could be. My memory’s not what it once was.”

Da poured some whisky into the man’s cup. “I wonder where it might have been?” he asked. “Near Edinburgh?”

“Nay. By the western edge of Scotland, closer to Oban, I think.” Duncan drank again and looked at Magnus. “Ah, now I recall. There was a big lass staying there who might have been kin to your lady. A sister?”

The MacLeods exchanged glances. “Aunt Tess,” breathed Lennox. Of course! His ma had always turned to her older sister for guidance and love.

“What else can ye tell us?” Ciaran asked.

Duncan shrugged. “Nothing more. Your ma declared she would ne’er return to Skye, and so I left them there and sailed home alone.”

Magnus had gone pale as a ghost, but Lennox could spare no sympathy for him tonight. In a voice hard as stone, he said, “I must find Aunt Tess.”

It was Fiona who spoke first. “Just this week, I had a message from our aunt, in reply to the news that Lucien and I would soon travel to join Christophe. She wrote to say she has been named a lady-in-waiting to Queen Mary! The royal court always spends Easter at Stirling Castle, so we will be together there soon.” She came over to rest a hand on his shoulder. “The way forward is quite clear. You must come with Lucien and me to Stirling.”

Lennox thought of the miniature, tucked inside a pouch at his waist. In his mind’s eye, he clearly saw the man who resembled him so closely. Was it possible that the truth could be revealed when he arrived at Stirling and spoke to his aunt?

“Aye,” he said softly. “I’ll go, Fi.”

She threw her arms around him. “How wonderful it will be to travel together! Christophe has been worried for our safety.”

Darkness gathered outside Spirit Tower as they made plans for the three of them to depart on the morrow, but Lennox felt strangely disconnected from this family he’d known since birth. Candles flickered in iron sconces set into the stone walls, illuminating the newly-painted mural of a birlinn on the waves near Duntulm Castle. Lennox stared at it. Originally he had imagined it to be a scene of homecoming, but now it seemed to hold a very different meaning.

Perhaps, without even realizing it, he’d painted a galley sailing away from Skye, bound for an unknown future.

Chapter 3

April 1541

Stirling Castle, Scotland

Nora paused at the tall leaded-glass window and emitted an appreciative sigh. Stirling Castle was set high on a soaring stone plateau, and Nora’s perch in the tapestry work room offered a breathtaking view of the charming village and emerald-green countryside that encircled the fortress.

“Oh Father, I’m so glad we came here,” she said, smiling.

William Brodie was hunched over a richly colorful tapestry spread over the surface of a worktable. “We had no choice,” he rumbled, peering through tiny spectacles at one section of the beautifully woven tapestry. “The Scots king needs me, now more than ever, since the Hunt of the Unicorn tapestries have arrived from France.” William frowned. “See here, another area that is imperfect.”

As Nora looked at the place indicated by his long, knobby finger, she silently gave thanks that King James V had purchased the magnificent set of tapestries. The six works of art depicted a unicorn hunt, from the first sighting of the mythical beast and ending with the dead unicorn being brought to the castle