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Adding another log to the hearth, Gavin came to his feet and stared into the leaping flames. For the entire ride back from the abbey, he’d tried to recall everything he’d learned from Lady MacInnes before leaving the Scottish court, since the old woman’s recollection of events past was the only thing he felt certain he could rely on.
By Saint. Andrew, from the time he stepped foot in Ironcross Castle, he had yet to hear a complete story from anyone, and that included Joanna. To Gavin, she was clearly too distraught from the tragedy she’d faced to relay anything that might be construed as rational or objective.
And what of Mater?
Leaning one arm on the carved mantle, Gavin pictured the old woman’s razor-sharp look. She cut an impressive figure—no question about that—taking the approa
