Seducing the Laird (21 page)

Chapter 39

The McPherson dungeons were not the most elaborate she had seen. They consisted of a large room for prisoners and a smaller one for the guards. Rather than separating the inmates, Cairn’s
ancestors
derived great pleasure in having them watch their companions being tortured, knowing their turn was coming soon.

Elaborately sinister machines were stacked in one corner of the large cell, making her grateful she couldn’t fathom their uses. They were all covered in a thin layer of dust and rust. Though not old, it had been several months since most of the equipment was used.

Jon was fast asleep on a dirty straw mattress, but he came instantly awake when he heard her pick the lock.

"Who is there?" he asked warily. "Tell me quick or I’ll bash your head in!"

"Tis I, Verena," she answered, puzzled. The lad sounded terrified, but as she lifted her candle, she couldn’t see any bruises on him. What was he afraid of if not Cairn’s questioning?

"’Tis good to see you!
I thought they were coming for me."

"They?
What happened last night?"

"I followed the boy, as you asked. He went directly to see his contact, not caring if half the world saw him –he was obviously not a real spy. At first I thought Owen sent him, but he didn’t meet Owen. I couldn’t get a good look at the other man, but I would have recognized Owen’s bulk anywhere.

"He asked if the boy delivered the poison and the lad said yes. He thought he was so clever for escaping your questions and was foolish enough to boast about it. Quick as lightning, the other man took out a knife and slashed his throat.

"I must have made a sound because the killer ran away as fast as he could. The lad was still alive so I tried to stop the bleeding. I hoped he could tell me who sliced him. That’s when Fergus came along and I didn’t get a name. Isn’t this a fine mess?"

"You think they will come after you here?"

"Certainly," Jon replied, calmly cleaning his fingernails as he imagined an unknown assassin making an attempt on his life. "They know they were seen and the whole castle must know why I am in the dungeon. They’ll think I saw their face and try to silence me."

"I wish we could contact Owen. He would see you to safety."

"Don’t worry about me. I’ll find Hadran and bring him here. If anyone can straighten Owen out, it is him."

"I hope you are right."

The spies slowly tiptoed up the winding stairs. It was late enough that most of the castle was asleep, but she laced her guard’s wine with a sleeping powder just in case. The same powder was liberally added to the prison guard’s soup during the evening meal.

They decided not to attempt the front gate and instead made their way to the Old Lord’s rooms. They could easily sneak out of the castle through the secret passage. Unfortunately someone had other plans for them.

A large shadow detached itself from the wall as they neared the entrance to the dungeon. The two spies separated, giving each other enough space to fight. Knives were clutched in their hands and before she could think, she instinctively blocked the upward thrust of a shiny metal object.

If she were less trained, the knife would have plunged into her belly, killing her and her unborn child. That knowledge enraged her. She struck back furiously, slashing at her attacker with ruthless precision.

They stepped backward through the open doorway, falling under the light of a hall torch and she gaped in surprise. This was no man striking her with the skill to match Hadran’s best agents. A woman stood before her, dressed in tight hose and a nondescript black tunic. She was older than Verena, with a face ravaged by a hard life. Her affinity for drink was evident in bloodshot eyes. It took
she
but a moment to assess her attacker, committing her face to memory. Though older, this woman more than matched Verena in skill.

"That’s her!" Jon exclaimed as he recognized the woman. "She’s the servant that visited Ivone."

What did Ivone need with such a ruthless agent? This was much more serious than watching Gundy’s spy. This woman was a killer, perhaps the same killer that murdered Cairn’s would-be poisoner.

Her head was reeling and the assassin quickly took advantage of her distraction. Seeing an opening, she cut Verena below her rib. If not for the thick woolen gown, she would have been seriously injured. The wound was not deep, but it was painful.

Jon tried to sneak behind the woman, but she was wise to that trick and danced around them, positioning them so they couldn’t attack at the same time.

"Who are you?" she demanded. This woman was not part of Hadran’s team so couldn’t work for Gundy. But why else would she try to assassinate Cairn? Their knives scraped loudly against the stone as they parried and struck at each other. The woman kicked a brazier of coals into Verena’s path to distract her. It wasn’t long before the noise drew the attention of the awakening castle and she heard running feet.

"Jon, run!" she demanded, parrying another deadly attack. "Take the passage and find Hadran. He’ll know what to do."

The assassin struck at Jon as he ran past, but she punched her hard across the face, making her miss her target. She was only dazed for a moment and then redoubled her efforts, seeing part of her quarry escape.

"You’ll pay for that."

Verena shivered at the words. She thought she was used to ever-present danger, but the certainty in this woman’s voice sent chills up her spine. She meant what she said. A flurry of strikes was sent toward her face. It took all of her concentration to block them. She was dimly aware of the knife slicing into her forearms, but was too focused on the fight to feel pain.

Cairn appeared then, followed closely by several knights. He gaped in astonishment at the skilled knife fight. She could sense his confusion and swore profusely. How would she convince him of her innocence now?

"You chose your allegiance last night," continued the assassin. "But you chose the wrong side. I look forward to seeing how Gundy reacts to your betrayal."

Abruptly the woman switched tactics and swung low toward Verena’s legs. The knife sunk deeply into her skirts and the soft flesh of her thigh. She then spun on her toes, wrenching the knife from her leg, and flinging it at Cairn as she charged past. She was much faster than she anticipated and she barely managed to clumsily push the assassin, making the knife clatter harmlessly against the stone wall.

"After her!"
Cairn yelled, but she knew it was too late. This woman doubtless had several places to hide and more than one way to get out of the castle. Once she was out of sight, they would never find her.

The hall was quiet following the knights’ departure. The adrenaline slowly ebbed from her body and she felt the lateness of the hour and her exhaustion. She had to grab the wall to keep from falling as the pain in her thigh and forearms flooded her.

Cairn stood before her, watching her with a mixture of horror and disbelief. No matter what she said, he would never believe she was the innocent she claimed to be. Verena said her brother taught her how to use a knife, but no mere guard would have skills like hers. Nor could she explain her presence in the dungeon. Once he discovered Jon was missing, she would be in serious trouble.

"Milord," she began slowly, not knowing what to say, but knowing she must say something. "I can explain …"

"You work for Gundy."

That was a fact she could no longer deny. There was no way to salvage her persona, no pretty lie to make Cairn love her again.

"I saved you last night," she pointed out, but Cairn cut her off. That one act had come after weeks of deception.

"Why? Isn’t that why you are here? Did you kill the boy?"

"Nay!
The woman did. She came to kill Jon because he recognized her."

"Who was she? Why would she try to murder me?"

"I don’t know."

That was the flaw in Hadran’s reasoning. He thought it was safer to tell his agents only what they needed to know—safer for Gundy. If they were captured, there would be little danger to Gundy’s plans. But now she had no way to save herself, no useful information to barter for her freedom. The treasure was still lost and she knew few details about Gundy’s plans. She didn’t even know the identity of the assassin, and had little more than conjecture to tie her to Lady Ivone.

If she told Cairn the truth about his stepmother, would Cairn believe her, or think she was lying to save herself? Knowledge of Ivone’s deceit was all she had gained during her stay in Scotland, but how would that help her?

The cut on Verena’s thigh was deep. Even without looking, she knew it would require stitches. She no longer had the strength to stand and slowly lowered herself to the floor. Would he let her die? Would he let their child die in anger?

"Everything you said was a lie."

"I’m not lying now. Please …"

"Don’t say another word! No matter what I do, Gundy’s treachery follows me.
No longer!"

Without warning, he scooped her into his arms and carried her down the twisting stone staircase. He unceremoniously dumped her on the same straw pallet Jon had used only a few minutes before.

"Do not speak," he cautioned, digging his fingers painfully into Verena’s arms. "Do not move. You betrayed me before and I forgave you. I never thought the mother of my child was capable of such deceit."

"You still want our child?"

She couldn’t help the hopeful catch in her throat. He knew she betrayed him, knew she was his assassin, but he still wanted their child. She didn’t know what to make of that.

"It is my child!" he growled. "And I’ll ensure a devil like you never comes near him."

Chapter 40

The hours passed slowly in the dark, cold dungeon. Verena didn’t know how long she lay on the straw pallet, creating plans and then discarding each of them as silly. Cairn had stripped her of almost everything but her gown. She had one long hair pin, tucked into her elaborate coiffure, but that wouldn’t pick the dungeon lock.

Long ago a nervous Roselyn had seen to her wounds. She was clearly puzzled by Verena’s change in circumstances, but knew better than to ask with Cairn standing over her, glaring daggers at them both. She thought briefly of having Roselyn sneak out a message, but was unsure of the maid’s loyalty. Even if she agreed, she had no one to send a message to. Jon was headed to England and she hadn’t seen Owen in days. There was no one left to help her.

At least Cairn left her a candle. That was a courtesy she didn’t expect, but it was also torture. Hadran repeatedly told his agents to never accept defeat. There were ways out of every situation. Verena spent her time carefully examining the cell, looking for any tool that might help her escape. Unfortunately the cell was impenetrable and instead of spending the night resting, she exhausted herself with a futile search. She finally admitted defeat when her candle grew low, but was afraid to extinguish it, lest the dungeon’s rodents decide to pay her a social visit.

The next morning Cairn discovered her curled in a ball on the uncomfortably thin pallet, caught in an exhausted slumber. He shook her awake, ignoring the dark circles beneath her eyes which mirrored his own. He probably spent the night searching for Ivone’s assassin.

"I need answers."

Verena blinked to clear her mind. She had not slept well since arriving in Scotland. Her days were spent with the clan while the nights were filled with Cairn’s energetic lovemaking and searching for the treasure. Even the days locked in her chamber were spent working on projects to win the clan’s support and scheming with Jon. She had maintained this brutal schedule because of training and the knowledge that it wouldn’t last forever. Perhaps because of the baby or her injuries in the knife fight, her body chose this moment to rebel. Opening her eyes was a Herculean chore and though she sat up, she couldn’t seem to focus.

"Verena!
Who was the assassin? How did she get into the castle?

Slowly her mind began to clear. Jon had left for England, Hadran was miles away, and Owen was plotting against their employer. Ivone’s assassin would return; she was certain of that. Only Cairn, the man she sought to destroy, could protect her until Hadran returned. Maybe if she told him the truth, Cairn would think she was worth saving.

There was little hope of salvaging her mission at this point. Now she needed to focus on survival. There was a measure of safety as long as she carried Cairn’s child, but she would never allow him to take the baby from her. She would live until Hadran came, and pray the old man could make things right.

"She works for your stepmother."

"Lies!"

"It’s true. Jon saw her in Ivone’s solar. That’s how she knew I worked for Gundy."

"Ivone knew you were a spy and didn’t tell me?"

"Aye."
She rubbed her forehead to clear the raging headache that was forming. Not since she was a little girl had she felt so alone. No matter how dangerous the assignment, she could always rely on Hadran, Owen and Jon for help. Now she had nothing but her wits and a hairpin. "Gundy isn’t the only one to profit from your death."

"Ivone has her faults, but she isn’t a murderer."

"She murdered your father, though that wasn’t very wise."

"Explain yourself."

It felt good to tell Cairn the truth. She had been carrying her deception like an unwieldy burden for weeks. Though Cairn was incredulous, he was at least willing to listen to her story. Once she started, she wanted to tell him everything. Perhaps a part of her still trusted this man. Despite everything, she wanted to be close to him

"Your father was ill for years while you were in France. That was perfect for Ivone as she could rule the clan with impunity. It was the arsenic she fed him in small doses over the years. The same arsenic Ivone keeps in a vial around her neck to protect her from the plague. His death was probably accidental, but he was sick for so long, no one suspected foul play.

"She didn’t intend for your father to die. When you returned, Ivone had to relinquish her power to you. Now she wants it back."

"This is too much. Why should I believe you now? You can’t prove anything and I have known Lady Ivone much longer than I have known you."

"Ivone’s agent said she would come after me, and I believe her."

"Why?"

"Because she thinks I have information about your grandfather’s treasure. I believe your stepmother has a plan for the silver that does not include you or your clan."

Cairn had to sit down. He lowered himself to the filthy dungeon floor on shaky legs. The stone wall at his back felt reassuringly solid. These age-blackened walls had survived centuries of war and plague, but he knew only too well that a castle was only as strong as its defenders. Faced with Jon’s, Ivone’s, and Verena’s betrayals, Cairn felt shaken and terribly alone. How could he protect his clan when he was so easily fooled by the people closest to his heart?

He didn’t want to believe his stepmother was capable of such treachery, but Cairn had heard too many stories about how she led the clan before his arrival. While Angus was ill, she had squandered their funds and increased taxes to pay for vain projects. Not long ago this dungeon had been filled with people incarcerated on petty charges. The McPhersons were severely chastised for not showing the proper respect, or offending Ivone in a million different ways. He knew she was cold and selfish, but that didn’t make Ivone’s betrayal easier to bear.

"Ivone left for France this morning."

"Of course.
With Gundy’s army coming, she probably thought it was no longer safe to stay in Scotland."

"Tell me everything."

Verena took a deep breath and began her story. The information wouldn’t save the McPhersons, but it would teach Cairn the depths of Gundy’s deviousness. Maybe if he knew a little about her history, Cairn would take more precautions to keep her safe.

"For the past twelve years I have worked for Lord Gundy, with a small group of assassins and spies. We were hired by Gundy to find your grandfather’s treasure, but a few days ago the rules of the assignment changed—or perhaps I was finally told the entire plan. The treasure was not enough for him. You had to die in order to pave the way for Gundy’s invasion. Owen, the man you saw in the woods, was not my lover; he was my assistant."

Cairn felt numb as her damning words washed over him. She was working with Gundy all this time, plotting against him and his people. She planned to murder Cairn and open his clan to an English massacre. Despite her guilt, she looked at him now with something akin to trust.

"When will his men arrive?"

"I do not know. Owen was keeping me informed, but he left a few days ago."

The man in the woods was not her lover. Cairn felt his heart thaw a bit at that news. Could he believe her now that she was finally exposed? He was surprised by his desire to trust her. Even now Cairn cringed to see her locked in the dark, filthy dungeon. This woman had taken control of his heart with terrifying ease. Were her kisses lies; and the way she moaned in his embrace? Cairn wished he had never laid eyes on this viper.

"That night I told him of the child and asked to be removed from this assignment. It was too dangerous for the babe. At first he was enraged. Then he ordered me to go back to the castle and find the treasure—not for Lord Gundy, but for us. I believe he plans to overthrow Gundy and take his place."

"If he murders that English bastard, it will be a blessing."

"Believe me, this is not good news. Owen is volatile and ruthless, but was always willing to follow Gundy’s orders. Not anymore. He hasn’t tried to contact me since that night and I am afraid of what he might do.

"I know what kind of man Lord Gundy is, but I owe him my life. Without Gundy’s patronage, I would have starved long ago."

"Patronage?" shouted Cairn. He looked like he wanted to throttle her "What type of man would force you into such labor? You gave your body for him, you would have murdered for him."

Verena thought she had come to terms with her profession. As long as she had the support of Hadran and her family of spies, she could ignore her conscience. Now Cairn glared at her as if she was the vilest of creatures.

"You were born into wealth and privilege. I had nothing. You can’t possibly understand what it means to have someone look at you, filthy and starving, and see potential. He turned me into a spy, and I thank God every day for that. He gave me my life."

Forcing herself to look him in the eye, she squared her shoulders. Cairn didn’t love her like Hadran and the others; he had not been with her for years, fighting beside her. He couldn’t understand how perilous life could be for a peasant girl without a family.

"And you would have taken mine. Why didn’t you let me drink the poison?"

"I don’t know."

Cairn’s features were still, but she could see the storm brewing in his eyes. Cairn wanted her before; he wanted their child. How much did her answer mean to him?

"This is the knife your brother gave you," he said, pulling out the blade he confiscated the night before. "The one he taught you to use."

"I don’t have a brother. Owen made it for me. Hadran, the leader of our group under Gundy, taught me how to use it."

"How many of you are there?"

Cairn’s voice was a low, deadly growl. Months ago he had sworn to never fall for Gundy’s tricks again, but suddenly found himself back in Gundy’s trap. The lovely woman before him, the woman that so neatly captured his heart, was accomplice to it all.

"Four," she replied, watching him cautiously. She could see the rage within, but Cairn kept his emotions in check. She forced herself not to think of what Gundy had done to a spy he discovered in Langthorne.

"I am the primary agent, Owen and Jon are my backups, and Hadran acts as our liaison to Gundy. Hadran put our group together at Gundy’s behest. He delivers our assignments and keeps Gundy informed of our progress."

"Why didn’t he kill me in Langthorne? Why send you?"

"Our mutual suffering made it easy for you to trust me," she replied. "I needed unrestricted access to search for your grandfather’s treasure—a servant wouldn’t have such freedom. Once I found it, I was to kill you before your brother returned with reinforcements and supplies."

Cairn was so angry it was difficult to see. His fists clenched in fury, desperate to slam into Gundy’s face, to shake the woman in front of him and make her take back everything she said.

"My men are dead because of you!" She could feel the emotions pouring off Cairn in waves. "You came here to destroy me. You gave your body to me for Gundy."

"No," she replied softly, no longer able to look him in the eye. She had long tried to deny it, but the passion between them was real. It had nothing to do with Gundy or her mission. Verena genuinely cared for Cairn and was tormented by the thought of what would become of him. "That was not for Gundy."

"Then why?"

"You were kind to me," she explained, trying not to fidget under his uncompromising stare. "And … I wanted you."

Cairn had been through so much. She could see the distrust in his eyes. He reached out to lightly grasp her arms. His fingers caressed her biceps as if he couldn’t believe she was real.