“Did ye?” Saidh asked and frowned, realizing that she had probably hit the nail on the head when she’d suggested that Aulay may have received invitations and simply sent his regrets without mentioning it to her or her other brothers. She would have to have a talk with her brother about that when she returned to Buchanan. She understood that he disliked public affairs, but that did not mean she would not have wanted to attend. Okay, so she probably wouldn’t have wanted to attend. Saidh hated feasts and weddings almost as much as Aulay, but still, it would have been nice to know her cousin was marrying . . . again and again.
“Aulay,” Fenella said suddenly on a sigh, her thoughts obviously having run along the same lines as Saidh’s. “I should ha’e realized he no’ only would no’ attend, but would no’ bother to mention the events to the rest o’ ye. Is he still so very self-conscious about his scars?”
“Aye,” Saidh admitted quietly. Aulay had always been a bright and happy lad, and had grown into a brave and handsome warrior the women had all fawned over . . . until the battle that had killed their father. Aulay had returned from the battlefield scarred in spirit and body, his handsome face halved by a sword blow that had nearly killed him. While his wounds had healed, he had yet to recover his outgoing and easy personality and Saidh began to fear he never would. Shaking away her worries about that, she squeezed Fenella’s hands. “Tell me. I hear ye married Laird MacIver after Kennedy. How did that come to pass?”
“The king,” Fenella said unhappily. “Old MacIver was a friend o’ his and wanted me to wife so the king ordered it six months after I was widowed.” She grimaced with distaste and said, “I did no’ want to marry again after what Kennedy did to me, but I had no choice. Me best hope at the time was that the MacIver was so old he could no’ manage his husbandly duties.”
“And was he?” Saidh asked, watching her face.
Fenella grimaced. “He tried. He huffed and grunted on top o’ me fer a bit, trying to manage the deed, but then rolled off with a sigh and went to sleep. At least I thought he was sleeping and I went to sleep too. It was no’ til morn that I realized aught was amiss. He was gray and cold and I realized I’d been sleeping with a corpse.”
Saidh bit her lip to keep from saying “Ewwww.” She was trying to work out what to ask next, when Fenella continued.
“Of course, then the king decided I should marry MacIver’s nephew. It seemed a shame, he said, to let a pretty young lass like me whither away fer want o’ a husband. But the truth was, the nephew was leering at me all through the wedding feast and I suspect the king saw it and decided to pass me down to the nephew along with the keep and lands,” she said bitterly.
“The king attended yer wedding?” Saidh asked to change the subject.
“He attended both weddings. MacIvers have always been supporters of his and he wanted to keep it that way,” she said grimly.
“So ye married the younger MacIver,” Saidh prompted.
“Aye.”
When she didn’t continue, Saidh prompted, “And how was he to husband? Was he kind?”
Fenella sighed and shrugged miserably. “He was all right. At least he was young and healthy and did no’ stink like his uncle. But he was nothing like Allen. He did want his husbandly rights,” she said unhappily, and then glanced up and confessed, “I fear after Kennedy, I was afraid o’ the marital bed. The older MacIver did no’ seem to notice, and I was so scared I just lay still and waited fer the pain and humiliation to start so was surprised when it was so clumsy and . . .” She shrugged helplessly, as if unsure how to phrase it and finally said, “Limp.”
“Anyway,” she muttered, her cheeks now flushed with a bright blush. “The younger MacIver did no’ ha’e the same issue. He tried to go gently and slow, but he did insist on his marital rights. And he was nothing like Allen.”
“Ye said that,” Saidh murmured quietly.
“Well, ’tis true. Gordon MacIver was kind enough, but he was no’ nearly as thoughtful and sweet as Allen. And the man was horse crazy. He was always off riding on that stallion o’ his. I was no’ surprised when he fell off the stupid beast and broke his neck. And I did no’ grieve overly much,” she confessed almost apologetically. “At least no’ at first. But then when the king sent his men to investigate and I realized that they thought I had something to do with his death . . .”
“I am sure he did no’ really think that,” Saidh said quickly. “No doubt he was just making certain no one could raise questions later.”
“Aye, mayhap,” Fenella said dubiously and then shrugged. “Anyway, I was widowed again and stuck at MacIver. Gordon had died without an heir, but the king waited to see if I carried one. However, when my woman’s time came and I told him that I was definitely not with child, he passed the title and estate to a second cousin of Gordon’s or some such thing.”
“And then the king arranged fer yer marriage to Allen?” Saidh asked.
Fenella shook her head. “No’ at first. Fer a while I was allowed to return home to Fraser. I think he hoped people would forget about me first three husbands’ dying,” she admitted with a grimace. “But then Allen asked Father fer me hand in marriage, and he was all too eager to hand me o’er.”
She sighed, and slipped her hand from Saidh’s to fret at the fur on the bed. “At first, I was furious. I really did no’ want to marry again,” she admitted sadly. “I did no’ ken Allen and how kind he was, and Mother pretty much had to drag me down fer the wedding ceremony. But in the end . . . he was the most wonderful man.” She smiled gently, and then her smile faded and a new bout of tears welled up in her eyes. “But now he’s dead too, and everyone is sure I somehow did it, when I was nowhere near the loch. I can no’ swim, Saidh, ye ken that. I ne’er went near the loch. And I loved him, I would ne’er ha’e killed him. God is surely punishing me fer what I did. He gave me Allen just to take him away as punishment fer killing Hammish.”
“Hush,” Saidh hissed, glancing fretfully toward the door. Her cousin was going to get herself hanged for murder at this rate. Standing up, she urged Fenella to lift her legs onto the bed, saying, “Here. Why do ye no’ rest fer a bit, hmmm? We can talk later.”