The Hunter (Highland Guard #7)(31)

Sutherland, who’d been known for his hot temper, surprised them all by being the calmest man on board. Were the woman giving birth his wife, Ewen might have jumped overboard.

When an image of Sister Genna’s face sprang to mind, he pushed it away. Ewen knew he would have to marry sometime, but this was the first time he’d ever thought of “his wife.” He didn’t miss the irony in a nun being the source of his inspiration.

Fortunately, Sutherland’s heir had waited to make his appearance until they were safely arrived at Dunstaffnage and Angel—Sutherland’s sister Helen, who was the Highland Guard’s healer—could attend the birthing. By all accounts, both mother and child were doing well, but even two days later Sutherland—or Ice, as he’d been dubbed after that hellish journey—had the stunned look of a man who’d been through a long, savage battle and somehow walked out alive.

It wasn’t just the flurry of excitement over a new child that Sutherland had brought to the castle, however; he’d also managed to uncover some important information about Edward’s battle plans when the truce expired at the end of the month. Once again war with England loomed on the horizon, and every member of the Highland Guard was eager to get back to the work of solidifying Bruce’s kingship and defeating the English—this time for good.

But Ewen hadn’t forgotten about Sister Genna (hell if he knew why), or his intention to speak with Bruce about the increasing dangers faced by his female “couriers of the cloth.” Usually, Ewen did his best to stay in the background, but for this he would make an exception.

A few days after their arrival, he entered the Great Hall, which was already burgeoning with activity as the midday meal was well underway, and approached the dais, intending on requesting a private meeting with the king in his solar.

He was making his way around the crowded trestle tables on the east side of the Hall, dodging serving lasses with platters stacked high with food, when he glanced toward the head table and noticed a woman seated next to the king.

He stilled, a strange buzz radiating down his spine and spreading over his skin. Her head was bent toward the king, but there was something about the deep, golden blond of her hair that reminded him of another. It was the way the light caught the different-colored strands, from silvery blond, to golden brown, to rich copper. He’d never seen the like—until he’d met Sister Genna.

A quick glance at the man on her other side identified the woman as Mary of Mar, Sutherland’s new bride, who was making her first appearance after the birth of the child. It was also the first time he’d had a good look at her in the light, Ewen realized. God knew he’d stayed as far away from her as possible on the birlinn.

His heart was beating strangely as he walked closer, almost as if he sensed something momentous was about to happen.

He was about ten feet away when she looked up, and he stopped dead in his tracks, as if he’d run into a stone wall.

Christ! The color slid from his face. It was her. Sister Genna. She was Sutherland’s wife? He felt an unfamiliar pain in his chest, as if a hot dagger had just been plunged inside and twisted.

Nay. The shock cleared from his head, and he realized she couldn’t be the same woman. Sutherland’s wife had been pregnant a few days ago, and Sister Genna hadn’t. He ought to know, he thought with a hard clench of his jaw; he’d had his hands all over her.

A closer study of the woman’s smiling face as she responded to something Bruce said revealed further differences. Mary of Mar’s face was fuller, the lines around her mouth and eyes were etched a tad deeper, and her hair was a few inches longer. She had the same unusual blue-green eyes of Sister Genna, but Mary’s leaned toward the blue whereas Sister Genna’s favored the green.

Yet they had the same pale skin—albeit Sister Genna’s had a few more freckles, including the one strategically placed above her lip—slender noses, high cheekbones, dark, sooty lashes, and full pink lips. Hell, even the delicate arch of their brows was the same.

How could there be two …?

The truth slapped him. Mary of Mar had had a twin sister. Everyone had heard the story of how the lass had disappeared a few years ago after an ill-advised and failed attempt to rescue her sister from Edward the First’s clutches. She had been presumed dead. A presumption that apparently was wrong.

The bridge! Of course. The lass had disappeared when a bridge had collapsed. Sister Genna had told him as much, but he hadn’t put the two together.

His mouth fell in a hard line as the full import of his discovery hit him. The wee nun had lied to him. Sister Genna wasn’t Italian; she was Janet of Mar, Mary’s lost sister, and, he realized, Robert the Bruce’s former sister-in-law. Bruce’s first wife, Isabella, had been her sister. Ewen clenched his fists as anger surged through every vein in his body.

Suddenly some of the inconsistencies that he’d noticed made sense. The accent that had faded in and out with anger. The too-fine chemise he’d glimpsed during the attack.

The dagger.

Bloody hell, now he remembered where he’d seen something similar! Viper had a dagger that was nearly identical.

Obviously the sister-in-law Janet had been talking about was Christina of the Isles, one of the most powerful women in the Highlands, and Lachlan MacRuairi’s half-sister. Christina had been married to Duncan of Mar. Sister Janet’s brother was well known to him; Ewen had considered him a friend. He’d fought beside the fierce warrior and witnessed his beheading at the hands of the MacDowells at Loch Ryan.