Highland Wolf (13 page)

“On that we are agreed. How did ye ken that Donnell and Mary were lovers?”

“One of the maids saw Mary enter Donnell’s bedchamber and heard enough to ken that the woman wasnae there to ask what he wanted for a meal.”

“Oh dear. Do ye think she would tell anyone else what she saw?” Annora asked, wondering if she and James could get the woman to James’ brother and the king’s man.

“Nay. I fair had to pull it out of her word-by-word and only after I had sworn meself to silence about it all. Weel, all but the truth about what she saw and heard.”

“So, were ye but wishing me to confirm what ye have read in that wee book?” asked Marta.

“Nay, I need ye to tell me if Mary had any places she favored, places she would go to be private.”

“Ye mean like the laird’s own bedchamber?” Big Marta drawled.

“Weel, aye, although I pray what I seek hasnae been hidden in there, as it will be nigh on impossible to get in there without being seen. Donnell keeps his bedchamber verra weel guarded.”

“Such is the way with a mon who holds a lot of secrets, especially the sort that can get him hanged.”

“Aye, true enough. Donnell has a great many secrets, I think.”

“Why do ye wish to ken if Lady Mary had some wee secret places so that she could commit adultery without being caught?”

“Because I think she may have hidden a second journal. The one Meggie found only goes to a few months before she was killed.”

Big Marta tensed and studied Annora closely before she said, “Aye, there were a few places where Lady Mary went. Now that I ken a wee bit more about her, I suspicion they were places where she could meet her lover without fear of being caught.”

When Big Marta said nothing more, just stood there scowling down at her feet, Annora gently asked, “Are there none ye can think of?”

“Och, aye, there are some. I was just trying to think of the ones that might offer her the chance to bury something or just hide it. Down by the burn. Lady Mary often slipped away to go there. Ye cannae be seen down there because of all the wondrous big trees. I saw her slip away to go there many a time, and now that I think on it, it was mostly when that bastard was visiting. She could also have crept to the place from where’er she was
hiding after the fire and no one would have seen her.”

Annora thought about that for a while, trying to picture the various places along the burn where someone could hide, or at least be out of sight of anyone at Dunncraig. There were several that she could think of although she rarely went near the water. She was somewhat afraid of burns and lochs and had been ever since her mother had drowned herself in a burn. Yet, to find some proof that would help James regain his land, she would go and search that burn for miles along either bank if she had to.

“Then I shall go and find Mary’s secret place as soon as I can,” she murmured.

“Do ye really think the fool wrote another journal?”

“I do, because Mary verra clearly liked to write in the wee book. Since she was alive for months after the other one ended, I cannae believe she stopped writing. If it is hidden somewhere near the burn, I will find it. It might weel hold all that is needed to make Donnell pay for his crimes and set James back in the laird’s chair where he belongs.”

“Ye dinnae intend to give him the other one, do ye?”

Big Marta could be annoyingly perceptive, Annora mused and then sighed. “Nay. There isnae anything in there which will save him, but there is a lot of things in there that will hurt him. Mary may have appeared sweet and shy to many people, but those writings reveal a verra strong dose of cruelty hid beneath that sweetness. I assume ye told James about what that maid said?”

Big Marta nodded. “Aye, I did although I didnae want to, for he was a good husband to the lass, better than she deserved e’en if she hadnae been betraying him with MacKay.”

“On that we are agreed. He already kens that she broke her vows with Donnell and feels as certain as I do, that his wife helped dangle a rope around his neck by letting everyone think he killed her. I dinnae think he needs to ken that she thought him less than a mon and a verra poor lover as weel.”

“Nay, the lad doesnae deserve that. But are ye absolutely sure that nothing in that wee book can help him?”

“As sure as I can be. If naught else can be found, then I will give it to him so that he might try to use it to get the decree of outlawry set aside.”

“Fair enough. If ye need any help slipping away to look round the burn, just ask me. I will help as I can.”

Thank ye. Now I had best try to slip away to my bedchamber ere Egan comes sniffing round again.”

The moment Big Marta let her out of the tiny room, Annora fled to the safety of her own bedchamber, watching closely for any sight of Egan every step of the way. Even as she reached for the latch on her door, she changed her mind. Egan might well try to come to her room and, securely latched or not, she was not sure her door was enough to keep him out if he was determined. He was, after all, going to be angry to have been reprimanded by Donnell, and it would be just like Egan to blame her for that. Taking a very careful look around, she hurried toward James’ bedchamber. Annora knew that it was an easy choice to make and not only because she would feel safe from Egan if she was with James. She may have been his lover for only a short time, but she already missed him when he was not in her bed.

She had barely finished one quick rap on James’ door before it was opened and
James yanked her into the room. Annora waited as he closed the door and barred it before he turned to her. For a moment, she had feared she had stepped far beyond her bounds, but his wide smile told her that was a foolish concern. James’ ear-to-ear grin told her that she was welcome. Annora suspected the hint of unease she could feel in him was because she had risked a lot to come to his room.

“This wasnae verra wise, but I am too pleased to see ye to complain too much,” he said.

“I was a wee bit afraid I had o’erstepped,” she began, still uncertain of her welcome.

“Och, nay, love, ne’er that. If the threat of discovery didnae lurk round every corner, there wouldnae e’en be the hint of secrecy about what we share.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I would be strutting about like the fittest cock in the hen yard and letting every mon within leagues ken that ye are mine.”

“And letting every woman ken that ye are mine?” she could not resist asking.

“Nay a woman from here to London, cursed city that it is, would e’er doubt it.” He leaned back a little and looked at her. “But I get the feeling that there was more than my charming and verra handsome self that brought ye here this night.”

“I needed to feel safe,” she whispered.

James felt his anger stir for a moment even as her words touched him deeply. His anger was born of the fact that she had felt afraid and he suspected Egan had been hard at her heels. He ached to kill the man, or at least beat him into the ground, but that justice had to wait, for there was too much at risk to give into the need. That she would think to come to him to feel safe, despite the fact that he was as tightly bound as she by the need to play the waiting game when it came to Egan and Donnell, touched him in ways he would be hard put to explain.

“Then stay, love, and let us both pretend for just a wee while that all is right and weel in our world.”

“It soon will be, James,” she said as he tugged her closer to his bed even as he began to unlace her gown.

“From your beautiful lips to God’s ear.”

Annora gave herself over to his lovemaking. Her love made her want him so badly she ached, but she too knew that the need to feel happy, safe, and content also drew her into his arms. James made her feel wanted and welcome. It was a feeling she had enjoyed far too few times in her life. As he finished undressing her, then looked her all over as he shed his clothes, she realized that James made her feel as if she had truly found a home.

Pain tore through her heart and she hastily banished it. She did not fool herself into thinking that was true. When he became the laird of Dunncraig again, she would have to leave. Annora would not stand in his way of making a complete life here for himself and Meggie, and that would eventually require a wife, a proper wife and not a poor, landless bastard. But, for now, she could afford the luxury of pretending she was home and simply enjoy the feeling.

As passion swept over her body, stirred into fierce life by James’ touch, the feel of his big, warm body, and his heated kisses, Annora had to wonder how any woman could have been as stupid as Mary. Or as blind. Or so cold and confused that she could not see what a wondrous lover James was, what a fortunate woman she had been to be given such a kind, generous, and honorable man as a husband. The idiocy Mary had shown in
her choice of lovers and the heartless cruelty she had revealed in how she had treated her husband and child, acting without a care for their safety and happiness if nothing else, would never make sense to Annora.

For as long as she could Annora knew she would hide the little book filled from cover to cover with far too many unkind words about the man she now held in her arms, hoping that she might even be able to destroy it because it was not needed to prove James’ innocence. On the day she had to leave James so that he could begin his new life at Dunncraig, Annora wanted to be able to toss that small book of poisonous words into a fire and watch it burn to ashes. Mary had hurt James enough. Although she felt a little sad for her ill-fated cousin, she knew Mary had brought her sad end upon herself and forgave the woman all of her sins save for two. Annora did not think she could forgive Mary for being such a poor mother to Meggie and she would never forgive the woman for trying to destroy James.

It was not easy to lose her guards, for they had indeed become far more diligent in watching her, but Annora finally managed it Two long days had passed before she had been able to find the time and a safe way to get to the burn, and she intended to search every possible hiding place along the banks. There was no way to guess when she might get another chance, and the very last thing she needed was two hulking men watching her search. Her guards would have reported such actions to Donnell the moment they returned to Dunncraig. Annora shivered just thinking about the trouble that could have brought down on her shoulders.

With yet another glance around to make certain that no one was watching her, she clutched the front of the old hooded cloak Big Marta had loaned her and hurried toward the burn. When she finally reached it, she stared at the water. It ran noisily over the rocky riverbed and it looked cold, but it was not deep enough to be any real threat Annora felt she would be able to do what she had to do without becoming so afraid that she became too upset and frightened to do it. She even wondered if such a fear could eventually be grown out of, but shook aside that puzzle, for it was not the time to worry and wonder over all her little fears and sad childhood memories.

It was when she reached a shady copse that she knew she had found Mary’s special place. It was several yards away from where the narrow path from the keep met the burn. Annora felt her body fill with the excitement of an imminent discovery. She knew it was foolish to let her hopes rise too high, but instinct told her that she was but a step or two away from the truth about what had happened to Mary. Annora actually wondered if she had yet another
gift
, one that allowed her to find things. She
had
always been good at that, but never had it been so important to her to find something.

The shady copse where Mary had often come was a beautiful place, prettily enclosed with tall, aging trees so that not even a person standing in the highest tower of Dunncraig would have been able to see her. It was indeed a perfect place to meet a lover, she mused, especially if the woman was one who was supposed to be dead. If Mary had dressed the right way, anyone who might have seen her would have assumed she was just some maid who had come to the banks of the burn to meet her lover. A few people would fear they were seeing a ghost.

First Annora carefully checked every tree to see if there was a hollow in the trunk similar to the one where Meggie had found the first journal. To her complete disappointment there was none, but she told herself she should not have expected it to be so easy. She then began to study the roots of the trees in the hope of finding some odd rise or hollow around them where a small book might be hidden, but that too proved fruitless.

Annora was about to give up when her gaze settled on two large flat stones embedded in the ground near the bank of the burn. They formed a seat of sorts where one could sit and watch the river tumble by. She was just thinking that Mary had gone to a lot of work, or made someone else do so, to make sure that her skirts did not get damp or dirty when her whole body tensed with the certainty of discovery. Annora felt a little like a dog must when it caught the scent of its prey, but she still knelt down by the stones to study them more closely.

Surprising herself with her own strength, she tugged up one of the stones. All she found beneath it was dirt and a vast array of bugs. Quickly dropping it back down, she
moved to lift the other stone. Once she pried that up out of the ground she was so surprised by what she saw, she dropped it. It was a struggle to lift it again just enough to push it aside. There, partly buried in the dirt, was a lump of oiled leather just like the one that had been wrapped around the other journal.

After carefully taking it out of the ground, she settled the rock back into place. As gently as she could, fearing that this one might not have been as protected from the damp and other ravages of time and weather, Annora spread open the oiled cloth. When she saw that the little book she had been looking for was wrapped inside and that it was in nearly as good a condition as the other, she said a little prayer of thanks. Before touching the journal she washed her hands in the icy water of the burn and then dried them completely on her skirts. Annora sat down on the rocks that had sheltered the little book for so long and began to read.

When she finished reading what Mary had written, Annora set the book down on her lap. She wiped tears from her cheeks even as she wondered why she wept. Amidst all of Mary’s complaints and long rambling accounts filled with self-pity was a tale of betrayal. Mary had betrayed James and Donnell had betrayed Mary. Annora supposed that was enough to make anyone cry.

“Foolish, stupid woman,” she whispered. “Ye gave up all that was good for a mon who ne’er loved ye and were rewarded with an unmarked, unconsecrated grave.”

A chill breeze swirled around Annora and she shivered. Everyone always said one should never speak ill of the dead. For just a moment, she feared Mary’s spirit was trying to reach her, but then she looked up at the sky. Big, dark clouds were rapidly eating up the blue sky and promising a fierce storm. She stood up, tucked the little book into a hidden pocket in her skirts, and started on her way back to the keep. To give herself a good excuse in case someone caught her outside alone, she paused now and again to gather a few plants that might prove useful. It was so easy to find such plants that she began to think she needed to overcome her fear of water enough to come near the burn regularly and find out just how big its bounty of healing plants was.

With each step she took toward Dunncraig, she worried more and more about what to tell James. She would not hide this book from him as she had the other. It held the full ugly truth about all of Donnell’s deceits and treacheries. It was also proof that James had not killed Mary. She had lived for nearly a year after James had been condemned for her murder and cried an outlaw. Since James had been hiding and running for his life during that time, it might be difficult for him to prove that he was nowhere near Dunncraig at about the time Mary wrote her last entry in her journal, the one where she had starkly stated her fear that the man she had loved for so many years was going to kill her. From all James had told her about his talk with his brother and the king’s man, however, Annora suspected that would not cause James all that much trouble. The ones in power, the men who could end James’ exile, had already begun to doubt Donnell’s word. There was only Mary’s increasing fear to point the finger of guilt in Donnell’s direction, but Annora was sure there was more than enough in the journal to push Donnell out of Dunncraig.

She was so deep in thoughts about how the journal might help James that she nearly walked into Donnell as she hurried into the keep. Annora could not completely hide the flush of guilt upon her face and hoped Donnell would think she was just flushed from the cold wind that had sprung up outside. Not only had she been creeping about,
avoiding her guards again, but in her pocket was a little book that could possibly see Donnell hanged. It was not easy to look a man in the eye when one was working so diligently to get him hanged, Annora thought, even if he did well deserve the punishment.

“Where have ye been?” he demanded and then he grimaced with distaste as he looked over the cloak she wore. “And why are ye wearing that tattered rag?”

“I was wandering about in the wood again,” she replied, ignoring his criticism of her attire.

“Without your guards. Again.”

The suspicion she could hear in his voice and see reflected in his narrow-eyed expression made Annora very uneasy, but she forced herself to act and speak as if she was as calm as a loch on a windless day. “I cannae always remember to tell your men where I am going.”

“Weel, I strongly suggest that ye try. Now, come with me to my ledger room. We need to talk.”

Ominous words, she thought as she followed him. With each move she took the little book in her pocket bumped against her thigh, reminding her that she had a powerful secret to keep. It was more difficult than she liked to hide the growing fear inside her, for Annora knew that if Donnell found the book in her pocket, her life would be in immediate danger. James would also lose one of the first good sources of the truth he was seeking that had been uncovered at Dunncraig.

Once inside Donnell’s ledger room she stood quietly in front of his big worktable while he seated himself behind it. He clasped his large-knuckled hands on top of the table and stared at her silently. It was something he always did and Annora was certain it was meant to make her nervous or afraid. It was working, although not as well as it had in the first few months of her time at Dunncraig. She met his steady look with an outward calm.

“Ye are now four and twenty, aye?” he finally said.

“As of two months ago,” she replied.

“Tis far past time ye were married, dinnae ye think?”

“I have naught to offer a husband. No lands, no dowry at all, nay even a wee chest of linens.”

Donnell shrugged. “That doesnae matter to some men.”

Some men being Egan
, she thought. A cold knot formed inside her stomach and for the first time since meeting up with Donnell she forgot about the book in her pocket and all the danger it put her in. She realized that some foolish part of her, the one that did not like to look at any unpleasant truths, had hoped that Donnell would not order her to marry Egan.

“I have yet to meet one,” she murmured, knowing full well that, although Egan expected no lands or coin, he was also not marrying her because he loved her. He expected some gain from taking her as his wife; she was just not sure what that was.

“Weel, ye have met one and I think ye ken it weel. Egan has asked to marry ye and I have said aye.”

“He has ne’er asked me and I wouldnae have said aye if he had.” Despite her effort to speak softly and calmly, Annora knew there had been a bite to her words because Donnell began to look angry.

“Ye
will
say aye, Cousin.”

“Why? Why must I marry that mon?” Although she could tell by the angry flush
growing on Donnell’s face that he thought she was being impertinent, Annora truly wanted to know why he was forcing her to marry Egan.

“Mayhap I am but weary of having the care of ye, as are many of our kinsmen. Egan wishes to relieve me of that burden and I intend to let him. Do ye truly think ye can do better than my first? Do ye forget who ye are? Allow me to remind ye. Ye are naught but a poor, landless bastard. S’truth, I think Egan could do far better in a wife but ’tis ye he wants and he will have ye.”

Annora knew Donnell was being purposefully cruel, trying to quell her resistance with hard words, but knowing that did not lessen the hurt very much. “As ye wish, Cousin,” she said, knowing that there was nothing she could say or do that would change his mind. “If ye will excuse me now? I have much work to do.” She did not even wait for his permission to leave but turned and walked toward the door.

“Dinnae dare disobey me in this, Annora. Believe me when I say that ye will be verra sorry if ye do. And try to come to the great hall for meals more often. It would do the people of Dunncraig good to see ye and Egan together a few times before your wedding.”

She did not look at him, just nodded as she hurried out of the room. It undoubtedly looked like the retreat it was but she did not care. Annora was not sure what Donnell could do to her that would make her any sorrier than if she married Egan, either. As for going to the great hall to share a meal with the man she was about to be given to, playing the smiling betrothed couple for the sake of Egan’s pride, Donnell would wait a long time for that to happen. Avoiding that torment was even worth risking a beating.

After returning the cloak to a blatantly curious Big Marta and making certain that Meggie was safe and happy with Annie in the nursery, Annora hurried up to her bedchamber. She needed to wash up and change her gown before she confronted James with what she had found. It was not a chore she was looking forward to. The last thing she wished to do was hurt him, but handing him the little book full of Mary’s poisonous little comments about him would do just that even though it might also free him.

As she started to leave her bedchamber, she paused and looked at the chest beside her bed where she had hidden the first journal. Annora wondered if she really should take that one to James as well. Hiding it from James was much the same as lying to him, and that was not something she liked to do. A moment later she shook her head and hurried out of her room. There was all the proof James needed in the second journal. It spoke of how Mary and Donnell had been lovers for years as well as all about how they had planned to fool the world into thinking James had killed his wife. All it lacked in comparison to the first one was page after page of Mary complaining about how she had to endure James as her husband, her disgust over his lovemaking, and her many wishes for Donnell to hurry and free her from her marriage. James did not need to read such hurtful words. In truth, he would undoubtedly find more than enough pain in the words Mary had written in her second journal, including the ones that revealed her utter distaste for motherhood.

It was almost time to go down to the great hall before Annora finally found James. She was beginning to fear that she might be seen and escorted there to share a meal with Egan if she did not get out of sight quickly. When she returned to James’ bedchamber for a second time and he answered her rap upon his door, she nearly cursed. They had obviously passed each other at some time during her search for him, probably several
times. The fact that he greeted her wearing only a big smile did a lot to ease her growing temper, one born mostly of frustration.

“What if it wasnae me?” she asked, laughing softly when he tugged her inside the room, then quickly shut and barred the door.

“Oh, I kenned it was ye, love,” he said as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

Annora gasped with surprise when he dropped her onto his bed and began to tug off her clothes. “James! I came here to talk to ye!” she protested, laughter making her voice unsteady and stealing all command from her words.