"Odo, she spends hours every day in the garden. I think she likes flowers."
Diarmot sighed. "This makes no more sense to ye than it does to me. Did Fraser tell ye anything else?"
"She said it wasnae because of us," replied Odo, then frowned. "But, if it isnae us and it isnae ye, what is it?"
"A woman thing," said Alice.
Diarmot thought the look of disgust Aulay and Odo gave their sister was very similar to the sort many men must give women they did not understand. He wished Ilsa was here so that he could give her that look. "Now, I ken ye might nay understand all I am about to say, but listen anyway. There were some problems between Ilsa and me, a few difficulties in our marriage."
"Because your wits were rattled," said Alice.
"Aye, that says it rather weel," murmured Diarmot. "Sometimes a mon and his wife dinnae understand each other verra weel. Misunderstandings can arise. I think that is what has happened here. Ilsa has gone back to Dubheidland to think about everything and try to come to some understanding."
"Are ye going to just leave her there then, Papa?" Odo asked. "If she doesnae understand something, shouldnae ye go and explain it? Men sometimes need to set a lass down and talk sense into them."
"Ye have been talking to your uncle Sigimor, havenae ye?" Diarmot smiled when Odo nodded. "A word of advice, some lasses dinnae take weel to being sat down and talked sense to, especially if tis a mon doing the talking."
"She will come back, willnae she?"
"Of course, because I intend to go and get her."
"Today? Will ye go and get her today?"
"Nay. I will set out after her in two days' time. She wanted time to, er, think about things. Two days should be enough, I am thinking. I cannae leave until then, anyway, as I have things I must get done first. A few meetings and some decisions that can nay longer be put aside. So, in two days, I will go and see if she understands things better."
"And if she doesnae?"
"Then she can come back here and do her thinking. She belongs here and tis time she understands that little matter." For a moment he was afraid he had let too much of his growing anger into his voice, but six little children mimicked the stern look he suspected was on his face and nodded in full agreement. It was nice to have allies.
"I hope ye have a verra good explanation for this, lass," said Sigimor as he helped Ilsa dismount and took Cearnach into his arms.
Ilsa grimaced as Tait helped Gay down then took the horses away. It was dark and she had nearly missed finding her brothers. Fortunately, Liam had realized they were being followed and had found her. She tried not to feel like a naughty little girl as she sat down near Sigimor by the fire and smiled her thanks to Somerled when he served her a bowl of rabbit stew.
"I am nay sure I do," she finally admitted to Sigimor.
"Lass, ye have left your husband and that is a verra serious thing. Now, when he was being an idiot and his wits were rattled, I might have understood.
Wheesht, I probably would have helped ye. But, that isnae how it is anymore, is it?"
"Nay," she muttered and quickly filled her mouth with stew so that she could have a little time to think about what to say next.
"Nay. In fact, the mon was wooing ye verra prettily, if I am nay mistaken."
"Aye, I think he was wooing me. Dinnae ken why. Why does a mon need to woo his wife? Does that make sense to ye?"
"Aye and nay. A husband needs to keep his wooing sharp, I think, to keep the wife happy. In your case, the husband needs to do some wooing because he hasnae been that kind to ye since ye arrived at Clachthrom. He remembered everything and now kens that he has been unkind. I think he was trying to mend things or make apologies, or something."
"Aye, he woos me after he remembers everything. He didnae woo me just because he wanted to when his wits were rattled. Nay, he waited until his memory was back and then he thinks, oh, Ilsa isnae so bad, is she? So, then he starts wooing."
Sigimor looked at his brothers and Liam, but only Liam was smiling. Somerled and Tait looked as confused as he felt. Since Liam was smiling, he fixed his gaze on him, and jerked his head toward Ilsa, silently urging his cousin to deal with it.
"Ilsa, what are ye running from?" asked Liam.
"Why would ye think I was running?" she asked, and frowned when, suddenly, it was only her and Liam sitting at the fire. "Cowards," she muttered.
Liam laughed. "Aye, they are. Ye are running, Ilsa, but ye are a clever lass.
I think ye ken ye cannae run far enough or fast enough to escape what is troubling ye."
"I loved him, ye ken," she said quietly.