Page 149 of Laird of Flint
“Whatisthis?” he asked, holding it aloft.
“I told ye—” Eve began.
“Nay!” Carenza interjected. Her voice wavered as she said, “I can’t lie to him, Sister.” She came to him then and placed a hand on his forearm. “I can’t lie to ye, Hew.” She lowered her eyes, looking as if she was begging for forgiveness. His heart sank as he wondered what terrible sin she’d committed.
“That is verse that Gellir wrote for me when we were courtin’,” she said. “It means naught to me. I swear it. I only took it from the castle so there would be no written record of his humiliation. No evidence left to shame him. And I didn’t have the heart to burn such earnest and clever verse.”
“Gellir?” Hew blinked. Clever verse? From his cousin? The idea was ludicrous. He snickered.
That reaction was clearly the wrong one. Carenza looked shocked and appalled.
He explained. “I hate to disappoint you, but these are not Gellir’s words.”
“What? O’ course they are.”
“Nay.” He was sure of it. “My cousin has no talent for verse.”
“Is this not his hand?”
“Maybe. But they’re not his words.”
“But he sent them to me,” she said.
“Through a servant?”
“Aye, but…” She looked uncertain. “If he didn’t send them, who did?”
From behind them, Eve let out a charmed giggle that made them both turn around. Thankfully she was fully dressed. “I think I may know.” She skimmed the other pages, nodding as if verifying her theory. “By the way,” she said, casually fluttering her hand, “Gellir is fine.Morethan fine.” She looked up from the pages. “Ye see, at the siege, Gellir had an unlikely rescuer. A warrior maid.”
“His sister Feiyan?” Hew guessed. “Laird Deirdre?”
Eve grinned. “His maidservant.”
Carenza’s jaw dropped in wonder. “Not Merraid?”
“Och aye. The wee lass not only fought at Gellir’s back, she earned the respect o’ King Malcolm himself.” Eve began bundling up her discarded clothing. “The king gave her an audience, and somehow, with the help o’ the Pope’s emissary, peace was brokered between the king and the lairds.”
Hew furrowed his brows. What was the Pope’s emissary doing in Scotland?
“But the best part?” Eve teased. “When the king wished to reward Gellir for his loyalty, Gellir asked him to bestow a knighthood upon Merraid.”
Carenza gasped. “And did he?”
Eve nodded.
Hew let out a low whistle. That kind of noble gesture was the stuff of legends.
“Merraid must be elated,” Carenza said. “’Tis all she’s e’er wanted.”
“Och, that’s notallshe’s e’er wanted,” Eve said. “Since Merraid had just been dubbed a noble knight, Gellir asked permission from Laird Deirdre and King Malcolm…” She paused to wiggle her brows. “To marry her.”
For a moment, neither he nor Carenza could speak.
When they finally found their voices, they both spoke at once.
“Gellir and Merraid?”
“Merraid and Gellir?”
