"There is naught wrong with red and I suspect twill darken some." Gillyanne glanced toward the men and winced. "Nanty just went down. Ah, there, he is back on his feet."
Ilsa looked toward the men and noticed there were two more men who looked akin to her husband standing shoulder to shoulder with Diarmot, Connor, and a few of her brothers. "Nanty?"
"Antony, Diarmot's brother. We call him Nanty. He is to Diarmot's left.
Angus, another brother, is to Connor's right. His brother Andrew and his sister Fiona remained at Deilcladach. Was that one of your brothers who just disappeared under all those Campbells?"
"Aye. Twas Elyas, but Gilbert and Tait will soon have him out. Tait is my twin."
"I am hoping this doesnae cause a bitter feud."
"Ah, that would be a curse, for certain. I will be sorry if I am the cause of such trouble. Mayhap--"
"Nay, no mayhap, no hesitation. Ye are Diarmot's wife."
A little surprised by the woman's words, Ilsa asked, "Ye believe me?"
"Och, aye." Gillyanne shrugged. "I feel things, ye ken. I can feel the truth in ye." She nodded toward Margaret. "She makes me verra uneasy, has from the start. I feel nothing in her. There are some people, like my husband, who seem to have a shield o'er their feelings I cannae get through e'en if I try, but Lady Margaret doesnae feel like that to me. She just feels, weel, empty, if that makes any sense at all."
"Some," murmured Ilsa, faintly unsettled by Lady Gillyanne's words, yet unable to question the woman's claims. "I did think it odd that she had so little reaction to my claims. She remained calm, almost serene."
"Aye, she is always calm and serene."
"That just isnae natural," muttered Gay.
Gillyanne laughed softly. "Nay, it isnae." She looked at Margaret again. "I did sense some anger now and again, but it came and went so quickly, I dare nay swear it was really there. I am verra pleased that she willnae be a part of our family."
Ilsa studied the woman Diarmot had planned to marry. Margaret stood by the priest who had given up his attempts to stop the fighting and was wise enough not to venture too close to the melee. If she had been about to marry a man only to have the marriage stopped because a wife he neglected to mention suddenly appeared, bairns in arms, she would be enraged. She would be as hurt and angry as she felt now as the instigator of this trouble. Yet, Margaret remained calm, her hands clasped lightly in front of her skirts. It did not seem to even matter to her that her kinsmen were being soundly beaten, that this incident could easily blossom into a bloody feud lasting for years. Ilsa felt uneasy just watching the woman and looked back at Gillyanne.
"At best, she appears faintly amused by all of this," murmured Ilsa. "I dinnae have your gift, but I do have some skill at sensing how a person thinks or feels. Or, I thought I did."
"Oh, ye do, Ilsa," Gay said.
"Do I?" Ilsa sighed. "If so, it utterly failed me with Diarmot. I thought him honest, trustworthy, yet he tries to claim he has no knowledge of me or our handfasting. I was obviously verra wrong in my judgment of him."
"Nay, ye were right," Guillyanne said. "He is honest and trustworthy."
"But, he said--"
"A lot of nonsense. Unfortunately, he probably believes what he says. That could be because, in many ways, it may be the truth. Shortly after he left ye, Ilsa, Diarmot was set upon and beaten nigh unto death. He made it to a crofter's small home ere he could go no farther. He retained enough wits to tell the mon there who to seek out and that mon sent word to Connor at Deilcladach. We went to fetch him and I did what I could. E'en so, we werenae sure he would survive.
Once back at Deilcladach, we sent for my Aunt Maldie Murray, a reknowned healer.
Despite her great skill, it was a long time before we could all feel confident he would live. Diarmot insisted upon returning here and, once we were certain he would survive the journey, we brought him back to Clachthrom. His recovery took a verra long time and, in truth, I am astonished that he healed as weel as he did. Howbeit, although he healed in body, his mind remains, weel, injured."
"What do ye mean?"
"He cannae recall anything from that time. He doesnae ken why he was where he was, when or how he was beaten, or by whom. He has little memory of the worst of his pain and illness, his time of healing. Diarmot truly doesnae remember you."
Gillyanne smiled faintly when Ilsa frowned at her. "Tis hard to believe. I understand."
"I dinnae think ye lie."
"Nay, but ye think Diarmot does."
Ilsa shrugged then sighed. "I dinnae ken what I think. To forget a wife? And, his time with me came before the beating, so why would his memory of that fail him?"
"Who can say? Just try nay to let anger and injured feelings close heart and mind." Gillyanne glanced at the men. "Ye shall have to try to start anew. I ken it willnae be easy."
"Nay, it willnae." Ilsa winced as a Campbell seemed to fly over the church benches and landed near the door.