The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch) (4 page)

BOOK: The Knight's Temptress (Lairds of the Loch)
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Before Ian could object, Mag said, “Tell us all, lad. We’re with friends here.”

“It be their ladyships, sir,” Peter said, darting an anxious glance at Galbraith.

“Which ladyships?” Ian demanded, drawing Peter’s gaze back to himself.

Swallowing visibly, Peter glanced at Galbraith and Mag again before he met Ian’s gaze and said, “The ladies Elizabeth Galbraith and Lachina MacFarlan, sir. Rebels captured them near the woods at the southwest end o’ Loch Lomond.”

“The devil they did!” Ian exclaimed. An image of the lady Lachina leaped to his mind’s eye: a slender lassock with long golden plaits, whom he had first met a decade ago when he was fourteen and she a too-dignified eight.

“Where were
you
, Peter?” Mag asked ominously.

Looking wretched but speaking firmly, Peter said, “See you, sir, we were tae ride only as far as the loch. But the lady Elizabeth rode off tae see if the duchess were at Inchmurrin yet. Lady Lina shouted for her tae—”

Noting Mag’s frown, Ian hastily interjected, “We know the lady Elizabeth, Peter. But you fail to answer Sir Magnus’s question. If you were with them…”

More wretchedly than ever, Peter chose to address a point between Ian and Mag, saying, “See you, we heard men and horses ahead o’ us in the woods, and Lady Lina ordered me tae take cover, lest they be enemies.”

“Why did not all of ye take cover?” Galbraith demanded.

“She said we must not, that they’d hear three horses but might miss one. By my troth, laird, them villains never looked my way. They had eyes only for their ladyships. They surrounded them and turned back the way they’d come. So I followed them.”

“What else did you see?” Mag asked. “Did they harm either of them?”

“They rode hither and yon, just showing theirselves and their arms now and now. I saw nowt else save they ended at Dumbarton. When we reached the flatlands betwixt the castle rock and the woods, I stopped in the woods beside the river Leven. But I saw them ride up that steep track and in through the castle gates.”

“This changes things,” Ian said grimly.

“It does, aye,” Mag agreed with a thoughtful look.

“We need more information straightaway,” Ian said. “You and I—”

“Nay, lad, I’m for Ayrshire again, straightaway,” Mag said.

“For Ayrshire!” Ian and Galbraith exclaimed as one voice.

Ian added curtly, “Mag, Lizzie’s
your
sister. You and I can sneak over…”

But Mag was shaking his head, and Ian detected a twinkle in his eyes before Mag said, “You’re daft if you think I can
sneak
anywhere, lad. I’m too big. Forbye, one factor exists of which you have no ken or don’t credit if you do. My Andrena shares so strong a bond with her sisters that each one knows when another meets danger. If Dree is not already on her way back, she soon will be.”

“Certes,” Ian said, “your good-brother would stop her.”

“She’d come despite him,” Mag said. “Forbye, before I left, she informed me that I’m soon to become a father. She hadn’t told me before, because she knew I wanted her to meet Wilhelmina. The only thing that might keep Andrena from leaving is if she knows that I’ll come for her. So I must.” He shifted his gaze to his father. “As you know, sir, if the lady Aubrey has not locked young Muriella up or tied her down, she, too, will be seeking a way to reach Lina.”

“I’ll see to it,” Galbraith said. “I took them all to Bannachra when I got Ian’s message. You fetch Andrena. We’ll see to things here.”

Mag said in a near growl, “If Patrick lets anyone harm Lizzie—”

“He won’t,” Galbraith said.

Ian could tell that Galbraith was not as sure as he sounded. A glance at Mag told him that he had even less faith in Patrick than his father did.

Ian thought again of the lady Lachina. He had seen little of her for years and had often teased her in the past, when she, Andrena, and their lady mother had stayed with the Colquhouns on their way to visit kinsmen. Lina had
often expressed disapproval of him, with good cause. But he had liked her nonetheless.

Firmly, he said, “I’ll find out what’s going on at Dumbarton, Mag.”

“I know you will.”

Without watching the big man stride away, Ian turned back to the others.

He knew what he had to do.

Chapter 2
 

Dumbarton Castle, that night

D
o you think we’ll be able to sleep on these pallets?” Lizzie asked.

“Eventually, aye,” Lina said.

“Well, I’ll sleep better if I’m warmer. I do wish that someone would build us a fire or bring us blankets and food. Sakes, I wish your Tibby were here to brush my hair. It’s all in tangles, but I expect Patrick will lend me a comb.”

Tibby was the maidservant Lina shared with her sister Muriella and also was Peter Wylie’s sister. “I’m surprised that no one has been next or nigh us since they put us here,” Lina said. “But I’m glad, for Peter’s sake, that Tibby is
not
here and glad, too, that our captors left us that pitcher of water… and that pail.”

She was also thankful that Lizzie still hoped her brother Patrick would protect them. Despite the younger girl’s bluntly expressed if ineffective outrage after their capture, she had behaved fearlessly since then. She still complained but seemed to view their predicament now as an adventure.

Lina’s initial fear, when the men’s leader had declared that they were going to be the rebels’
guests
at Dumbarton, had faded to uneasy trepidation. She was confident that Peter had escaped but still feared that he might have decided to ride all the way home to Tùr Meiloach before seeking help.

A rap at the door interrupted her train of thought. She tensed, and the fine hairs on her forearms tingled, a sensation that seemed to spread through her body.

A key rattled in the lock, and two men entered. The first was a short, stocky man wearing what she assumed was the attire of a castle servant. The other was ill-kempt, his dark shaggy hair hanging in his face and his clothing in tatters.

While the first man stood silently in the open doorway, the shaggy one carried in a hodful of peat topped with straw, which he took to the hearth. As Lina watched, everything else in the room seemed to vanish. She saw only the peat man.

He knelt, set down his load, extracted a tinderbox from a pocket amid his tatters, and muttered, “We thought ye’d be glad of a fire, the pair o’ ye.”

“Thank you,” Lina murmured. She barely heard her own voice.

“ ’Tis nowt,” the man replied. Deftly arranging peat and straw, he dealt as deftly with lighting it. Then he stood and turned, evidently sure it would burn.

The air around him seemed to take on life of its own, to crackle as he moved.

“Some’un comes,” the man at the door muttered in the vast distance.

The shaggy one looked right at her then, his light-blue
gaze holding her astonished one. “Dinna squeak, lass,” he said. “Just tell me, ha’ they harmed ye?”

“N-nay,” she said, fighting to suppress her shock. “But—”

A quick shake of his head silenced her, and he moved toward the door. His demeanor remained casual, but his strides were longer, resulting in deceptive haste.

As he neared the open doorway, a tall tawny-headed figure appeared behind the stocky manservant who stood there, and Lizzie shrieked, “Patrick!”

Terrified that she might also have recognized the shaggy peat man and might betray him to her brother, Lina was thankful to see the manservant leave and the shaggy one slip past Patrick Galbraith to follow.

Then, just beyond Patrick, Sir Ian Colquhoun ducked his head, looked right at Lina, and blew her a kiss before vanishing down the stairs.

Passing his companion on that dark first flight of the spiral stairway, as well as a second man coming up, Ian led the way swiftly but silently downward, his heightened senses alert for any movement or voices on the stairs below or above. Only someone who knew him well might have detected his amusement.

The lass was still fun to startle, even under less than ideal circumstances and when the only signs of her shock were her widened eyes and slightly parted lips. She had lost scarcely a jot of her serenity. Hence, the blown kiss. But that, he knew,
had
been reckless. She would tell him so, too, he’d wager—at the first opportunity.

Hearing only Gorry MacCowan’s heavier tread behind
him, Ian nevertheless kept a hand on the dagger thrust into the belt beneath his rags and hurried on.

Both men kept silent until they neared the landing they sought. Then, stepping back to let Gorry pass him, Ian whispered, “Doucely now.”

“Aye, master.”

“Nay, nay, I be nobbut a scrofulous peat carrier,” Ian muttered. “That man above kens me well and may follow us. He must not see my face.”

Gorry nodded. Nearing the door into the yard, he nodded again at the guard there, saying, “I’ll see this chap outside yon gates the noo.”

The guard pulled open the iron yett and heavy door without a glance at Ian, whose confidence was such that his thoughts had returned to the chamber above and the two young ladies there. He had not seen Lizzie Galbraith for years, and she had not seen his face. The lady Lachina certainly had, but she would not betray him.

Recalling her astonishment and her quick control of it, he felt amusement stir again. He had never known her well. But he had met her numerous times since her childhood, and her steady composure had always impressed him. It also, nearly always, tempted him to disturb it to see how she would react.

As he followed Gorry through the open doorway into the torchlit yard, he heard a clatter of boot-shod feet on the stairway above them.

“Haste now,” he muttered, barely breathing the words into the air.

Gorry lengthened his stride.

But Ian knew that haste would not be enough.

The gate was too far, the footsteps too close.

“Patrick, you must get us out of this horrid place!” Lizzie cried while Lina was struggling to recover from her shock at seeing Ian Colquhoun in their chamber. “Those dreadful men captured us and paid no heed when I told them who I am.”

Watching Lizzie fling herself into her brother’s arms, Lina strained her ears to hear the retreating footsteps of the other two men but could not hear anything over Lizzie’s outrage. She prayed that the two would get safely away.

At the same time, she wondered at her odd reaction to Sir Ian and as swiftly wrenched her thoughts away from him. It was no time to let her mind wander.

Patrick Galbraith looked enough like his brother Mag to make her sure of his identity even if Lizzie hadn’t shrieked it. When he set Lizzie back on her heels and turned in the doorway, Lina saw that a second man-at-arms had reached the landing.

“Did you see who those two men were?” Patrick asked him.

“One were Gorry MacCowan,” the man replied. “I didna see t’other one’s gizz at all, sir, wi’ his hair all a-flappin’ round his face as it were. Likely, it were Jocko, the peat man, or one o’ his sort.”

“Go and make sure,” Patrick said, sending a chill up Lina’s spine.

“Good sakes,” Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. “Those men came only to light a fire for us, Patrick. You should be thanking them, for ’tis cold in here and no one else thought to provide us with food or even blankets, only that noisome pail in the corner. I wish I had thought to ask
them to take it away with them. But now that you are here, you will see to everything. I want to go home!”

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