Catherine’s deep, sensuous laugh seemed to flow below the noise in the hall straight into Glynis’s ears. Glynis stabbed her knife into a slab of pork and cut it into tiny bites for Sorcha, who sat beside her. She chewed her own food with such resolve that her jaw ached.
Glynis was so intent on keeping her gaze on the food before her that she was unaware of the hush in the hall until Sorcha poked her in the side. When she looked up, the only sound in the room was a furious whispering between the Campbell chieftain and his brother and sister, who sat on either side of him. The seat next to Catherine was empty.
“Glynis.”
Glynis jumped at the sound of Alex’s voice behind her.
He rested his hand on her shoulder and said close to her ear, “We are leaving the hall.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Shaggy MacLean has just come through the gate,” he said. “’Tis best we not get caught in the middle of this play.”
Alex did not wait for her to agree. He picked up Sorcha, pulled Glynis to her feet, and whisked them through a side door near the end of the head table. The door led into a narrow passageway between the castle’s stone wall and the decorative wood paneling of the interior wall of the hall.
“What is Shaggy doing here?” Glynis whispered.
“I believe he’s come to share the infinitely sad news of the accidental death of his beloved wife, Catherine, with her brothers.”
“Nay, he would not!” Glynis said.
“Come,” Alex said with a broad smile. “There’s a peephole behind the head table through which we can watch the fun.”
Peepholes in a castle were family secrets. Either Catherine Campbell had an appalling lack of discretion—or she was anticipating bringing Alex into the family.
“Who was that sitting next to ye?” Alex asked. “Ye seemed friendly.”
Glynis forgot she had even spoken to the man, and it took her a moment to recall his name. “Malcolm Campbell. He seemed a quiet, steady man.”
“Ye mean dull and tedious,” Alex said.
“I’m sure he’s a good man,” she said. “Still waters run deep.”
“Stagnant, more likely.” Alex turned to Sorcha and held his finger to his lips. “I’ll explain to ye later, sweet one.”
Alex came to a halt and pointed out two peepholes, close together. He put his arm around Glynys’s shoulders as they leaned down to look. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying his touch, before she remembered what she was supposed to be doing.
“I see him,” she whispered.
Shaggy was walking down the length of the great hall with head down, as if he could hardly bear the weight of his grief. Midway down the room, he staggered. And then he commenced to weeping and wailing, making the most wretched sound Glynis had ever heard.
“Ach, the man is playing the part for all he’s worth,” Alex said beside her.
Lady Catherine had left the table. Glynis remembered how much it had shaken her to see her former husband and couldn’t blame Catherine for wanting to avoid seeing Shaggy after what he’d done to her.
Shaggy’s shoulders shook as he paused to mop his face with a big handkerchief. He continued in this fashion, weeping and wailing, until he was a few feet in front of the chieftain’s high table.
Then, suddenly, he halted midstride. His mouth fell open, and his hand went to his heart. Glynis followed his wide-eyed stare and saw Catherine taking her place next to the Campbell chieftain.
Glynis heard Alex’s deep chuckle as Shaggy looked over his shoulder, evidently expecting the Campbell guards to converge on him.
“Will they kill him?” Glynis asked.
“The Campbells will observe the time-honored tradition of Highland hospitality,” Alex said, “and refrain from murdering Shaggy while he is a guest in their home.”
The Campbell chieftain gave one of the servants a slight nod, and the man guided Shaggy to a seat. While Shaggy looked ill, the Campbell siblings sat at the head table eating and drinking as if nothing was amiss. They were a cold-blooded lot.
“Sorcha is getting restless,” Alex said. “There will be nothing more to see tonight except for watching Shaggy sweat.”