drummer!” she finally blurted, then schooled her features into an easy smile. “I was just thinking about the drummer, Lady Agatha, the ghostly one.”
“Och, we’ve only one drummer in this castle, lassie.” The old woman was knitting something strange looking, her gnarled fingers flashing. “And call me Aunt Agatha. All the lassies do.”
Katlyn glanced around to see nods from Nessa and Lara. The former was intent on her embroidery, but Lara was bouncing wee Tomas on her knee. Apparently, ‘twas not unusual for Evelinde to leave her sons in the woman’s solar for a brief respite for her and her husband Malcolm. Young Liam was playing with wooden figures in front of the cold hearth, leaning against the biggest dog Katlyn had ever seen.
“Aunt Agatha isnae my aunt,” Lara pointed out cheerfully, “but I’ve kenned her for years. And it really is easier if we all call her the same thing.”
“But ye’re all her great-nieces, through marriage at least,” Katlyn pointed out. “Davina and I…” She glanced at her sister, who hadn’t looked up from her sewing.
Agatha scoffed. “Ye came here to marry an Oliphant, did ye no’? But there’s only one left!” she finished with a cackle.
“Kiergan is the best of them,” Nessa said, looking up with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “He’s the one who fought Da about all my marriage contracts.”
Lara hummed. “He’s the one who is finalizing the details on yer betrothal to Henry Campbell.”
“Bah!” Nessa stabbed at her embroidery with a vengeance. “How many fooking Henrys could there be in the Highlands? I’ve already killed off one Henry Campbell!”
Lara winced and leaned around the bairn in order to explain to Katlyn, “The laird keeps making contracts with men named Henry, and they keep dying. This is the second Henry Campbell Nessa’s been betrothed to.”
“And her fifth Henry,” Agatha added.
Lara shook her head. “Sixth, I think.”
“Nay,” Nessa said, with icy certainty. “He’s the seventh. The seventh fooking Henry, when I’d much rather be married to someone right here in this castle.”
Before Katlyn could ask, Lara smirked. “So ye’re saying ye dinnae want to be fooking Henry?”
Nessa scowled at the silly joke, and young Liam piped up. “I ken what fooks means. It’s a small creature with a bushy tail, aye?”
Lara’s eyes went wide, and she exchanged a glance with Nessa. “Oh shite,” she whispered. “We did it again.”
“Eh? What’s that?” called out Agatha. “I cannae hear when ye whisper like mice.”
“She was just saying, Aunt Agatha,” Nessa spoke loudly, “Evie will be angry we’ve taught wee Liam a new word again.”
“Eh? Which one this time? Speak up!”
Nessa took a deep breath. “Fook!” she hollered.
Liam banged two wooden warriors together. “Aye, fooks,” he declared happily.
And on Lara’s lap, wee Thomas burbled and said something which sounded suspiciously like fawk.
“Oh, hell,” murmured Lara.
Katlyn tried to smother her giggles behind her hand but was unsuccessful. When she glanced over at her sister, she found Davina had put down her stitching and was smiling, even if it did appear to be a sad sort of smile.
In fact…
Kat peered closer. Her sister looked off. There were circles under her eyes, and her hair was a bit lank. What was wrong with her? Discovering the answer to that would likely solve the whole mystery.
Because while Kiergan thought they were investigating the mystery of why Davina disliked him, but had still crawled into his bed, Katlyn knew that wasn’t a mystery at all. Nay, the real question was why Davina was acting so strange, and why she’d been awake when Katlyn had returned to their chambers through the secret door.
Slowly, Kat reached out and placed her fingers on Davina’s forearm. It was a gentle touch, but still, her sister flinched away. When she glanced over, Kat offered a soft smile, which caused Davina to flush and glance back down at her sewing.
“Why dinnae ye tell Katlyn about the Ghostly Drummer of Oliphant Castle, Aunt Agatha?” Lara asked, clearly trying to change the subject. “Since she’s heard of him.”
“Have ye actually heard him, lassie?” the old woman asked eagerly.
Katlyn hesitated, unsure if she wanted to confess. “Kiergan told me that whoever hears him is doomed to fall in love.”
“Kiergan, is it?” Before Kat could do more than flush guiltily, Agatha chortled and continued, “Aye, doooooom follows those who hear him! Although he’s been less active lately.” She cut a sly look toward Lara, who just seemed confused. “And I doubt Kiergan has ever heard him.”
Before she could stop herself, Kat spoke up in