toward the hearth. “My mother was… She was often distracted, but not by me.”
Jenny’s heart constricted; she’d not meant to upset the lass. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Jenny frowned, wondering what it was that had her mother in such a state. She wasn’t certain what she herself would have done without her own mother, and she felt extremely lucky to have her. The past couple of years since Hamish had left had been a challenge in more ways than one. “And your older brother?”
“Which one?” Isla grinned, the sparkle in her eye saying she knew which one Jenny was talking about.
“Toran.”
“Ah, he was always away, fighting in this battle or that. Mama was too.”
At this Jenny’s interest piqued, but she sipped her tea and pretended not to be as intrigued as she was. She went so far as to tug at a thread on her gown and then ball it between her forefinger and thumb. “Has your clan had much issue with the rebellion?”
They were Frasers, of course they had. Jenny knew the history of the clans, had listened to her grandfather and father tell her stories about their battles past and who was on which side. The Frasers seemed to be warring within themselves with the chief going back and forth on his allegiance, leaving his people floundering for a solid foothold in something to believe in. In fact, their double-dealing chief was not one Jenny would trust, which made it difficult for her to trust the other Frasers now.
Isla met her gaze, a seriousness in her young eyes that belied her age. “Have not we all?”
There was so much sadness in her tone, so much gravity, that Jenny’s heart ached for the lass. “Aye, ye speak the truth.”
“What was your mother’s name?” Lady Mackintosh asked, taking a sip of her tea.
“Moire MacGillivray.”
Lady Mackintosh looked thoughtful for a moment but said nothing. Jenny, however, was more than a little startled. She knew the name. She knew it well. Her hand shook, causing the liquid in her cup to swirl up and over the sides. A droplet of warm tea cascaded over the back of her hand and down her forearm. Jenny set down the cup, licked her lips, prepared to ask Isla to say the name of her mother once more, but found the words stalling in her throat. Could it be that her mother had been…the Moire, who had been a staple member of their rebellion until her life had been brutally ripped from her?
The lass let out a yawn. “My ladies, I am so tired…”
“Of course.” Jenny stood up so quickly she wavered on her feet, feeling a little dizzy at the movement. “I’ll show ye to your room.”
Down the hall she opened the chamber across from her own. A small fire had been lit in the hearth, and the washbasin was filled.
“Ye’ve water for washing, and it looks like someone brought up your bag. ’Tis rather small. Do ye have a nightdress in there?”
“Aye. Thank ye. We didna have much time to pack.” Isla laughed shortly and then unbuckled the bag. “But ’tis not as if I owned much besides a couple of gowns.” She pulled out a wrinkled white chemise. Was anything else in there that might give Jenny a clue as to why they were on the run? What they knew?
Though she shouldn’t be, Jenny found herself even more intrigued by this family.
“Shall I brush your hair out for ye?”
“Thank ye. Ye’re so nice.”
Jenny laughed. “Dinna tell Toran.”
“I will no’.” Isla grinned wide and then pinched her lips closed with her fingers as if holding in the secret.
Isla started to work herself out of her gown, filthy from their ride, undoing the ties at the front of her bodice. Jenny helped with the unlacing until the lass was down to her shift, and she passed her a clean night rail.
“I’ll hang up what ye do have while ye wash and put on the clean shift,” Jenny offered, opening the bag once more.
Isla didn’t argue, and Jenny sifted through the meager contents, pulling out one gown, two shifts, and a balled-up pair of hose. There were a few hairpins, a worn book of fables, and a pair of slippers. She even slipped open the tiny book looking for an inscription or handwritten notes that might be a code but found nothing.
Perhaps if she could get her hands on Toran’s satchel she might find something more useful.