Highland Honor (27 page)

“Cecily,” he murmured. “Sounds like a Sassanach name.” He almost smiled when Angus glared at him, the old man's pale cheeks now flushed with anger.

“'Tis no an English name! 'Tis the name of a martyr, ye great heathen, and weel ye ken it. My sister was a pious lass. She didnae change the child's christening name as some folk do. Kept the saint's name. I call the lass Sile. Use the Gaelic, ye ken.”

“Because ye think Cecily sounds English.” Artan ignored Angus's stuttering denial. “When did ye last see this lass?”

“Her father brought her and her wee brother here just before he and the lad died.”

“How did they die?”

“Killed whilst traveling back home from visiting me. Thieves. Poor wee lass saw it all. Old Meg, her maid, got her to safety, though. Some of their escort survived, chased away the thieves, and then got Cecily, Old Meg, and the dead back to their home. The moment I heard I sent for the lass, but the cousins had already taken hold of her and wouldnae let go.”

“Was her father a mon of wealth or property?”

“Aye, he was. He had both and the cousins now control it all. For the lass's sake they say. And, aye, I wonder on the killing. His kinsmen could have had a hand in it.”

“Yet they havenae rid themselves of the lass.”

“She made it home and has ne'er left there again. They also have control of all that she has since she is a woman, aye?”

“Aye, and it probably helps muzzle any suspicions about the other deaths.”

Angus nodded. “'Tis what I think. So, will ye go to Kirkfalls and fetch my niece?”

“Aye, I will fetch her, but I make no promises about marrying her.”

“Not e'en to become my heir?”

“Nay, not e'en for that, tempting as it is. I willnae tie myself to a woman for that alone. There has to be more.”

“She is a bonnie wee lass with dark red hair and big green eyes.”

That sounded promising, but Artan fixed a stern gaze upon the old man. “Ye havenae set eyes on her since she was a child and ye dinnae ken what sort of woman she has become. A lass can be so bonnie on the outside she makes a man's innards clench. But then the blind lust clears away, and he finds himself with a bonnie lass who is as cold as ice, or mean of spirit, or any of a dozen things that would make living with her pure misery. Nay, I willnae promise to wed your niece now. I will only promise to consider it. There will be time to come to know the lass as we travel here from Kirkfalls.”

“Fare enough, but ye will see. Ye will be wanting to marry her. She is a sweet, gentle, biddable lass. A true lady raised to be a mon's comfort.”

Artan wondered just how much of that effusive praise was true, then shrugged and began to plan his journey.