Part 18 (1/2)

”I'm curious as to why you're wanting to go to the Maitlands' home,” she whispered next.

Judith smiled. ”My friend married a Maitland and requested that I come for the birthing of her first child,” she answered, keeping her voice as whisper-soft as Margaret's had been when she asked her question.

”How did you ever meet?” Margaret wanted to know.

”At the festival on the border.”

Margaret nodded. ”We have the same festivals in the Highlands, though it comes in the fall and not the spring.”

”Have you ever attended?”

”When Isabelle still lived with us we went,” Margaret answered. ”Cameron's been too busy to go since,” she added with a shrug. ”I always had a fine time.”

”I understand Isabelle's married to Brod.i.c.k's brother,” Judith said. ”Was it a recent wedding?”

”No, over four years ago now,” Margaret answered.

The sadness in Margaret's voice was most evident. Judith quit stirring the meaty stew and leaned back from the fire so she could give Margaret her full attention. Odd, but although they were virtual strangers, she felt the urge to comfort the woman. She seemed to be terribly lonely, and Judith well understood that feeling.

”Haven't you had time to go and visit your daughter?”

”Not once have I seen my Isabelle since she wed,” Margaret answered. ”The Maitlands stay to themselves. They don't take to outsiders.”

Judith couldn't believe what she was hearing. ”But you're certainly not an outsider,” she protested.

”Isabelle belongs to Winslow now. It wouldn't be proper to ask that she come to visit us, and it wouldn't be proper either to ask to go to her.”

Judith shook her head. She'd never heard of anything so preposterous. ”Does she send messages to you?”

”Who would bring them?”

A long minute pa.s.sed in silence. ”I would,” Judith whispered.

Margaret looked over at her husband, then turned her gaze back to Judith. ”You would do that for me?”

”Of course.”

”I'm worrying it wouldn't be proper,” Margaret said.

”Of course it would be proper,” Judith argued. ”It wouldn't be difficult, either, Margaret. If you have any messages you'd like me to give Isabelle, I promise I'll find her and give them to her. Then, on my way back to England, I'll give you her messages. Perhaps there will even be an invitation to visit,” she added.

”We're going outside to see about the horses, wife,” Cameron announced in a booming voice. ”Shouldn't take us any time at all. Supper almost ready?”

”Aye, Cameron,” Margaret answered. ”It will be on the table when you come back inside.”

The men left the cottage. Cameron shut the door behind them. ”Your husband sounded angry,” Judith remarked.

”Oh, no, he's not angry,” Margaret rushed out. ”He's a little nervous, though. It's quite an honor to have the Maitland laird in our home. Cameron will be boasting about this for a good month or two.”

Margaret set the treachers on the table, then added another jug of water. The bread was sliced into wedges. Judith helped her ladle the stew into a large wooden bowl and put it in the center of the long table.