Once the evening meal had concluded, Angus asked all of his sons to adjourn to his solar. His wished to speak privately with them, with clansmen and servants milling about, the great hall was not a good choice. Angus knew that Andrew and Robert knew of the woman’s loss of memory, but Ian did not. He was out the entire day handling some disputes in the village.
“Ye mean the poor lass dinna even know her own name?” Ian asked his father, seating himself on the sette beside Robert.
“Aye,” Angus responded, pacing back and forth by the hearth. “She does not recall anything. Not her attacker, not who her clan is, not even who she is or what her name is?”
“It’s a shame for she is a bonny lass,” Ian said looking sad for her. “I’m sure that her clan must be greatly worried looking for her.”
“Aye, I agree with you Ian. If she were my lass, I’d be looking for her as well.” Sighing, Angus continued, “She is no peasant, what was left of her gown was of quality, she may be the daughter of a Laird or at least from a noble family.”
At that moment, there came a knock to the door. Angus giving his permission to whomever was there, watched as Margo entered the solar.
“Laird, I was just washing the lass’s plaid, in the corner there is a name embroidered on it. Perhaps her name is Emma,” Margo wondered as she showed Angus the plaid and where the name was. All three brothers stepped up for a closer look as well.
“Aye, Emma most likely is her name. A good start, at least we know that much now,“ Angus said, he was pleased with what Margo had found.
“’Emma, ‘tis a bonny name,” Robert said with a silly grin upon his face. “Shall we go and tell the lass her name?”
“Nae,” said Margo, “the child sleeps, I gave her a sleeping draught, and she will not wake until morn. Rest is what she needs now to heal.”
“The lass is not a child Margo,” said Andrew, a harsher tone then normal in his voice.
“Aye, I know that ye know she is not child,” Margo spat back, annoyed with his arrogance.
Standing up, taking a threatening step towards her, Andrew demanded,”I know not of what you mean Margo, but ye best watch your tongue.”
Before she could answer...”Enough!” shouted Angus. “I know not what is going on between you two, but I’ll not have it.” Eyeing them both,” Margo, do not disrespect my son and Andrew, you watch your tone.”
Annoyed, Angus dismissed them all. He turned towards the hearth, holding his whisky in his hand. A few minutes had passed and Angus knew he was not alone. “Ye still here Andrew?”