The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch) (11 page)

Lina could hear Lizzie’s soft breathing as the younger girl concentrated on her stitches. The rain had stopped temporarily, allowing them to open the shutters and proceed with altering the old blankets into rough cloaks.

Glancing out the window, Lina saw that dark clouds still hung low over the landscape. The stillness seemed ominous. It was going to rain again and would doubtless rain hard. Nevertheless, she could hear a bird whistling somewhere.

Against that eerie, prestorm stillness, she also heard a murmur of male voices in the stableyard below. From her stool near the window, she could see the eastern wall. The long, narrow thatched roof that jutted from it barely covered the restless backsides of the few ponies in open stalls facing the wall.

Distant, hasty footsteps sounded on the stairs.

“Lizzie, put that cloak aside and take up a shirt,” Lina said. Pushing her own drab wool aside, she snatched up one of Dougal MacPharlain’s shirts in its place.

“I don’t hear anything,” Lizzie said.

“Quick!” Lina said. The footsteps had neared their landing. “Do it!”

As a key scraped in the lock, Lizzie dropped the end of her blanket so that the cloth draped over her knees. Snatching up a linen shirt from the round table beside her, she thrust her needle through its fabric near one of the rents in it just as the door opened and Dougal strode in, leaving the door open.

Having had the foresight to use one of her own needles as
a second one and to thread them both, Lina calmly finished a stitch and looked up at him. Fearing that he might notice something amiss, especially if Lizzie tried to pull her thread through and revealed that it would bring the blanket on her knees with it, Lina said quietly, “What is it, sir?”

He regarded her silently, looked outside, then back at her. “It is going to storm,” he said. “Is the cloak ye wore here on Wednesday a thick, warm one?”

“The weather is warm enough without it,” she said, wondering guiltily what demon had turned his thoughts to cloaks.

“Is it warm enough to wear outside if it grows colder?”

Sensing Lizzie’s immediate, joyful reaction to his words and feeling an icy chill that had naught to do with cloaks, Lina said hastily, to silence Lizzie, “On most days, aye. But if you mean would it keep me dry on a day like today—”

“I do, aye,” he said.

“I knew I did not misjudge you!” Lizzie cried. “You mean to take us home!”

“Not ye, lass,” he replied harshly. “Ye’re too important to James Mòr.”

Lina did not need to see the stricken look on Lizzie’s face to say flatly, “Then I cannot go either, sir. You must know how wrong that would be.”

“Ye’ll do as I bid ye,” he retorted.

Hearing footsteps again on the stairs, Lina said, “No, sir. I won’t leave her.”

Ignoring the relief he felt at hearing that James Mòr and not he had irked Colquhoun, Ian said, “He does not again demand that you go alone, does he?”

“Nay, nay, we settled it in the second round of messages that I’ll take my usual tail. But he does say we must go afoot and my men must stay in the yard whilst I go inside. I can take one man in with me, though. That will be ye, lad. But neither of us may enter James Mòr’s presence armed.”

“I see,” Ian said, mentally rejecting the idea that he be the one to accompany Colquhoun. To be sure, it was his right. And the last thing he wanted to discuss with his father was any still-amorphous plan of his own. Even so, everything in him screamed that being closed up in an audience chamber with James Mòr and Colquhoun would be fatal to any plan of his that might present itself.

To his delight, as that thought formed, so did the possible outline for a plan. Needing time to think, he said, “We’d be wise to consider just what options we have, sir, before we set out. I ken fine that you must have done so already. Mayhap, though, if you will permit me to think aloud…”

At Colquhoun’s nod, Ian said, “First, despite what James Mòr commanded, I believe we must take horses. The weather has been so treacherous of late that if we walk all the way, we’ll be drenched and muddy to the waist when we arrive. That would put us at an immediate disadvantage in any discussion.”

“Aye, but we’d wear oiled cloaks, lad, as we always do.”

“Even so, sir, we’ll be in better shape if we ride at least through the forest to the edge of the river plain.”

“What if James Mòr has set watchers there?”

“Even if he has, I suspect that you still have not mentioned the ladies Lina or Lizzie in your messages to him.”

“Ye ken fine that I have not. I want to be facing the man when I do that.”

“Aye, sure,” Ian said. “So, if James Mòr learns that you rode as far as the plain and objects, tell him you
stopped
there in deference to his wishes. Add that, due to his known chivalry—a gey tactful phrase, I think, however untruthful—you believed that he would agree to release the women, and they would need horses.”

“Now,
that
is a good notion,” Colquhoun agreed, ignoring the digressive comment. “I warrant I’d have thought of that myself, had I taken the trouble.”

“Then, I’ll dare to offer a second suggestion.” Watching his father’s face carefully, Ian said, “I think you should take Rob MacAulay in my stead. Before you command me, sir,” he added hastily, recognizing signs of Colquhoun’s doing just that, “I would suggest that the less anyone else knows of my whereabouts now, the better. ’Tis possible that James Mòr knows I’ve returned to Dunglass. But, unless he has spies here, he won’t know more than that. I’d like to keep it that way, especially with others arriving every day to take part in our meeting.”

“Won’t he think it odd if he does know ye’re here and ye
don’t
go with me?”

“I am your heir, sir,” Ian said solemnly. “James Mòr will think only that you protect the Colquhoun succession against possible mishap. I’ll wager he’d do the same in a similar situation. However, since I know that fact will not weigh heavily enough to persuade you, I will add that
I’ll
feel better if Rob goes with you.”

“Good sakes, lad, why?”

“Because I distrust James Mòr,” Ian said frankly. “I believe that, whether he lets you have their ladyships or not, you will be in danger. And Rob is an excellent man to have at one’s side if aught goes amiss.”

“Better than
you
?”

“I am gey skilled with weapons and on horseback,” Ian said. “And I can outfight most enemies. But, although I’m grateful for your confidence, sir, Rob has a knack for hand-to-hand combat
without
weapons that I cannot match. Your own tactfulness will doubtless see you both safely away. But if tact should fail…”

Having already said enough to land himself in the suds later if he acted on the plan rapidly hatching in his fertile mind, he let his father’s imagination fill in the rest.

Colquhoun was quiet long enough to give Ian another qualm. Then he said, “Again you speak sensibly, lad. I’m leaving Adam here, too. I mean to take only men with proven ability to wait patiently, without complaint.” With a slight smile, he added, “Your brother will thank me, I know. He loathes standing in the rain. And everyone I leave in the castle yard will be soaked through.”

“True, sir,” Ian said, returning his smile. “How soon must you leave?”

“I’ve already sent orders to the men. I’ll order the horses now, and we’ll leave as soon as we’ve eaten.”

“Order at least two extra horses for their ladyships,” Ian said. “In troth, you might take four or five extra in a string. If thunder and lightning erupt whilst you’re inside, some of those ponies could startle and injure themselves.”

“Unlikely, since we’ll take lads to stay with them,” Colquhoun said. “But I agree that we should be prepared for aught that comes. I’ll see you at the table.”

Hak returned fast enough to tell Ian that he had quickly disposed of the wet clothing and then waited nearby for Colquhoun to leave.

After briefly explaining what was going on, Ian said,
“Find Rob MacAulay and Alex Buchanan, and tell them to meet me here before we eat. They’ll have to hurry, so assure them I won’t keep them long. Tell them it’s urgent.”

Dougal had taken a step toward Lina, his evident intent to shake her or worse, before he, too, heard the footsteps. Looking over his shoulder, he saw, as Lina did, that Gorry MacCowan stood at the open doorway with his minion and their midday meal. MacCowan paused at the threshold, the lad just behind him with the tray.

“Beg pardon, sir,” MacCowan said. “Was ye meaning tae take your meal wi’ the ladies? Nae one told me. But I can see tae—”

“Never mind,” Dougal said. To Lina, he added, “We’ll discuss this anon.”

“If you wish, sir. But I will not change my mind.”

“We’ll see about that,” he snapped. Pushing past MacCowan and the lad, nearly upsetting the tray that the boy carried, Dougal left.

“Lina,” Lizzie said urgently, “promise me—”

“Hush, Liz. Not now.”

“Shut that door, lad,” MacCowan said. “I’ll take that tray whilst ye stand wi’ your ear tae the door. Tell me if ye hear aught o’ footsteps or voices a-coming up.”

When the boy had obeyed, MacCowan set the tray on the table. As he did, he said quietly to Lina, “I’d be fain tae ken what that were aboot, if ye’d be inclined tae confide in me, m’lady.”

Lina nodded. “You have looked after us well, Gorry MacCowan. You also aided the person who came here that first night.”

Glancing at the boy, who had pressed his left ear to the door, he murmured, “Aye, m’lady, and that
person
wants ken of aught that might endanger ye.”

“Then he should know that Dougal MacPharlain wants to take me away but means to leave the lady Elizabeth here. I refused to go. So now he is angry.”

MacCowan winced. “Ha’ courage, m’lady,” he murmured. “I did hear that he had hopes o’ such. But the lord James Mòr did tell him nay. James Mòr would keep ye both here.” Whispering, he added, “I did send word o’ that tae—”

“Thank you, MacCowan,” Lina interjected, thinking it was unwise even to whisper names or places with the lad still there. “Do you think you can arrange for someone to bring us more peat? The air in this room grows colder each night.”

Straightening, MacCowan took two bowls off the tray and set them on the table. Between them, he set a pot of watery stew. “I’ll do all I can, mistress. But—”

“Don’t say it,” Lina said. “We ken fine that you may be unable to help us.”

Lizzie said urgently, “Lina, if that horrid man takes you away—”

“I won’t let him, Lizzie. If necessary, I shall send for James Mòr and demand that he protect us from Dougal whilst we remain in his care.”

Lizzie’s eyes widened. “You would
do
that?”

“I would,” Lina said firmly, hoping that Lizzie believed her. Her own belief was that no one could persuade James Mòr to do aught that he did not want to do.

Rob MacAulay and Alex Buchanan arrived together minutes later. Sir Alex was as lanky as Ian, with hair the color of dried straw. His eyes were brown, deep-set, and heavily lashed. His lips were thin, his jaw square, and his features chiseled.

“What’s amiss?” Rob asked Ian.

“My father meets this afternoon with James Mòr, who will allow him just one companion. He has agreed to take you, Rob. He will say that neither of you may carry weapons. But wear your breeks and boots, and take that lovely wee dirk of yours in with you. Even if they search you, I’ll wager that no one will think of looking inside your boot for such a weapon.”