‘Some of Master Tóla’s account is true,’ Gormán said, sounding like a ghost of himself. ‘Master Tóla hired Bardán to build the heartwood house, having learned that such a building brings many blessings on a family. Bardán’s wife had died, he had a newborn daughter, and his terms of employment included the child being looked after in Tóla’s household. A wet-nurse came from Longwater; her son stands among you now. She fed both infants. But . . . it was Mistress Suanach who loved the baby girl, who cared for her and sang to her and spent every waking hour with her. She wanted to do everything for the child herself.’ He looked at Tóla. ‘Mistress Suanach and Master Tóla had no children of their own, though they had been wed some years then. It was . . . Mistress Suanach was . . .’

‘How dare you!’

‘Let him speak, Master Tóla.’ Cionnaola was calm. ‘Best that it all comes out. Your wife is no longer here; this cannot hurt her now.’

‘Her need for a child was gnawing away at her,’ Gormán said. ‘When the little girl came into the household, it was as if Suanach had suddenly been granted a miracle. Within a matter of days she was treating the baby as her own. Then believing Brígh was her own. If that sounds strange, well, it was. But it was good to see her happy at last; it was a long time since she’d smiled so much. That made Master Tóla happy too.’

‘By all the gods,’ murmured Aunt Della. ‘I had no idea. No idea in the world.’

‘Bardán used to go over to the big house every day after work to see his daughter. Hold her, talk to her, sing her a lullaby. But Mistress Suanach didn’t like him anywhere near the baby. She started making rules, shutting him out. Bardán spoke to Master Tóla about it. Said he wouldn’t keep on with the building if he couldn’t have time with his child too. Said he’d walk away and get help from his wife’s kinsfolk instead.

‘Master Tóla didn’t want that. He wanted the heartwood house. He believed it would keep his family safe, healthy and prosperous for generations to come. He thought that in time it might grant them a child of their own. And only Bardán knew how to build it. But Master Tóla wanted his wife to stay happy and content, the way she’d been since the baby came. He feared that if Bardán took the child away, Suanach would become . . . unhinged. She was always . . . she was delicate in her temperament. Frail of body and fragile of mind. He truly feared the consequences of Bardán leaving. So he came to me with a proposition.’ Gormán’s voice faltered. ‘I am ashamed to tell you this. Bitterly ashamed.’