The Highlander's Enchantment Page 27

  “And what if he wishes war upon ye, as he did my brother, Strath?”

  “I will attempt to negotiate, but ye know I’m a warrior, lass. Battling is in my blood. I need to avenge my brother, protect my clan and protect ye. I’ve got to get this put behind us, else for the rest of our days, there will be those in the clan who think ye responsible.”

  Blair nodded, knowing he was right. “I willna sleep until ye’ve returned to me.”

  “Och, lass, after a lengthy journey such as this, ye’d best be well rested, for I plan to make love to ye the whole day and night through.”

  Blair smiled, feeling color rise to her face as he dipped to kiss her.

  Chapter 23

  Blair stayed near the main gate, watching as Edan and his men rode into the distance until there was nothing left but her imagination and what would happen when they got there. Inside her boot was the dagger he’d given her for protection, should she need it. She turned away slowly, facing the crowd of onlookers. Everyone appeared as weary and drained as she felt. She had not been afforded a moment of peace since she’d been at Dunrobin Castle, and that had been months before.

  Smiling and offering kind words to those she passed, she made her way to the kitchens to gather a small bundle and then went out again toward the village to check on Helen, Frances and the wee bairn, Alan. She wanted to thank Helen for stepping forward and telling the clan that she was a good person.

  She knocked softly on the croft, and when it was opened by Helen, she found Father Thomas inside, praying over Frances.

  Her throat caught, and her hand flew to her mouth. Oh, God! She was too late. Blair stared at Helen with sorrow, but Helen smiled, her face lighting up with hope.

  “She is better, my lady. Father Thomas came by to bless her and the bairn.”

  Better… Frances was better, not dying!

  “Oh, thank God,” Blair said, feeling the breath she’d been holding leave her body and her heart start to pump once more.

  Father Thomas nodded to her, “Lady Rose.”

  “Father.”

  He ducked from the croft, thankfully, as Blair still felt wary of him since he’d made her feel so ashamed of herself for things that Edan told her were quite normal. She wondered if when Edan returned she should talk to him about seeking a new priest for Rose kirk. Someone who seemed interested in building up the clan’s members and not tearing them down. There was an air of bitterness at Kilravock. Perhaps part of it would dissipate with Agnes having gone. But if not, the man who was supposed to lead them toward bettering their souls might be the next step.

  Blair set the package she’d put together for them down on a table, which included some cheese and fresh biscuits.

  “My lady.” The croaking voice came from where Frances lay on the bed. Her wee bairn slept soundly in her arms, looking pink and tiny and happy.

  “Frances, I’m so verra glad to hear ye’re better.”

  “Thank ye so much for what ye did for me, and for my bairn.” She glanced down sweetly at her sleeping bundle. “Nay doubt without ye, neither one of us would be here.”

  Helen smiled gratefully at Blair. “I dinna know what I would have done without my sister.”

  “I feel the same about my own.” Blair reached forward and took Helen’s hand and then grasped Frances’s with her other. “Ye’re both verra lucky to have each other. If ye’re ever in need of anything, dinna hesitate to ask.”

  Blair made her way back to the bailey and then to the stables to check on Bluebell. She was curled up asleep in a bed of hay beside a napping stable hand. Blair grinned, putting her hand over her mouth to stave off a laugh.

  “He was up all night delivering a foal,” the stable master said in a quiet tone. “Your Bluebell is keeping him warm.”

  “She seems to have found several friends here, has she not?”

  “Aye, my lady. The sweetest thing. Almost as though she doesna know she’s a lamb.”

  “I’m glad she’s happy.”

  At the sound of Blair’s voice, Bluebell perked up. She stretched, let out a baa, climbed to her feet and trotted over to give Blair a wet lick on her cheek.

  “Would ye care to walk, sweetness?” Blair crooned, and Bluebell answered with an enthusiastic baa-baa. “We’ll be back.”

  Blair clucked her tongue, and Bluebell trotted beside her out of the barn and toward the gate. A stroll in the fields, mayhap even down by the firth sounded perfect. She wanted to breathe in the salty air and think of her husband, her family. To give a prayer of thanks for the good fortune she had right now.

  “My lady, ye should stay within the walls,” one of the guards advised at her approach.

  Blair paused, ready to give in, but then the defiant streak that sometimes caught hold of her loomed up. “Did my husband give that order?”

  “Nay, my lady.”

  As she suspected. Well, she’d stick to the fields where those on the wall could still see her. “I should like to walk outside the walls. Allow me an escort then, if ye think my safety is a concern.”

  The guard nodded, though he clearly did not want to consent, and he waved a warrior to follow her.

  She walked through the gate and over the bridge toward the fields, where she plopped down to pick some flowers while Bluebell grazed.

  The guard paced in a wide circle, his gaze out toward the horizon.

  “What are ye looking for?” she asked.

  He did not glance back as he answered. “Campbells. And anyone else that shouldna be here.”

  “Ah.” Blair plucked another flower and stared at the buttery yellow petals. She’d heard the clan had a problem with the Campbells reiving, but since she’d been here, there’d been none of that.

  Bluebell delicately plucked the yellow flower from Blair’s hand, lipping it into her mouth and chewing with exuberance. There she remained in silence for a while, other than the few words she murmured to Bluebell, plucking flowers for her lamb. All the while, the guard looked so strung up she thought he’d snap. Perhaps it was best to put the guard out of his misery by calling their walk and flower picking to a close and heading back to the castle.

  Rather than take Bluebell back to the barn, however, Blair led her into the castle, snapping her fingers and uttering a command to settle the hounds who raised their hackles at the sight of a lamb inside the keep.

  Up the stairs they went to her shared rooms with Edan. She flopped in a chair before the hearth in the solar, and Bluebell curled up on the tapestried rug and went to sleep. With Edan gone, it would be lovely to have her sweet Bluebell with her.

  Two days passed in relative peace. The people went about their duties, and while Blair helped in the kitchen and with visiting the bedridden, Bluebell tended to her stable hands as though she were the one in charge. In the evenings after supper, Willa attended Blair in her chamber, though she worried about her brother, Raibert, being away, which only caused Blair to worry about Edan.

  The men would be more than halfway to their destination by now, which meant soon they would come back home.

  “With both of them gone, the castle is defenseless. I know we’ve the elders and the other warriors here,” Willa babbled on, “but ’tis not the same.”

  Blair nodded mutely, knowing the dangers but not putting voice to them. At home, she was certain her mother would not have allowed such a conversation to take place, with a servant worrying the lady of the house, but Blair couldn’t fall into that line. Willa was her friend, and the lass was clearly distressed over it.

  “I’m sorry, my lady, I dinna mean to worry ye.”

  “Ye’re only voicing my own concerns. On the morrow, I’ll speak with the elders in regard to the security of the clan.”

  “Look at wee Bluebell.” Willa giggled, changing the subject as she glanced toward Bluebell, who lay curled in a fleecy ball at Blair’s feet. “So docile and sweet.”

  “Aye, she’d not hurt a fly.”

  “She’s like a bairn to ye, aye?”

/>   Blair nodded, stroking her fingers through the fleece, while Willa stroked a brush through Blair’s hair. “I dinna know what I’d do without her.”

  “Hmm.” Willa hummed and then clucked her tongue. “Och, my lady, I nearly forgot. I found your sewing kit in the laird’s wardrobe. Someone must have misplaced it.”

  “Oh.” Blair frowned. Willa was looking through the laird’s wardrobe? But why? She wasn’t in charge of his laundry. Blair turned around to take the sewing kit.

  Pain ricocheted off the side of her head, and she fell from her chair, vision blurry, the taste of blood on her tongue. She blinked her eyes, trying to focus as Willa loomed over her.

  “My goodness, my lady, what are ye doing down there?” But there was no worry in Willa’s tone, and the menacing look in her eye was enough to warn Blair that they’d all been so very wrong.

  Their journey to Guinn Castle did not go quickly. It rained for many of the days, and Edan worried about what was happening at home. Agnes protested her innocence only once, but then clammed up at a word from her husband.

  But still, her protests, even after having been shown mercy, gave Edan pause.

  They arrived at the castle on a gloomy day, and rather than be locked out as Edan expected, the laird who’d received their message allowed them entry right away.

  Mary Guinn met them in the great hall, her face drawn full of concern.

  Edan hardened at the sight of her. According to Agnes, she had killed his brother. And all those days ago, when he’d told her she could stay with the clan and she’d denied his kindness, he never once thought she was the reason he’d be standing here now. That she’d needed to escape her guilt.

  “We received your messenger,” Laird Guinn said, appearing beside his daughter. “And ’tis glad I am that ye came so we might clear this up.”

  Clear this up… As if his brother’s death was only a misunderstanding. “I’m listening,” Edan said, the hardness in his tone not lost on the Guinns.

  “Daughter.” Laird Guinn glanced toward Mary, giving her permission to speak.

  “I am innocent of what ye suggested in your missive.” Mary eyed him levelly, and he sensed sincerity in her tone. She was not hysterical, nor insistent, but composed. “I should have told ye before I left, but I was scared. The reason my da was already on his way to take me home was because someone was trying to kill me.”

  “What?” Edan bristled, shock rippling through him.

  “Aye. And I’m fairly certain ’tis the reason I was never able to conceive.”

  Someone had tried to kill her…before they’d killed Connor. “Explain.”

  “At first, it was just that my…flux…was…” Her face brightened, and she bit her lip, stopping her words altogether.

  Edan too felt his throat dry a little at the talk of women’s issues with someone other than his wife.

  “’Twas not normal,” her father interjected. “And more than once, she was certain she was miscarrying.”

  “Aye. I told Connor, but he thought I was just being overly suspicious and thought I was perhaps a bit hysterical over not getting with child, even though I had at least three times.”

  “Let me try to understand this,” Edan said. “Someone was poisoning ye, causing ye to lose your bairn? Who would do such a thing?”

  Tears filled the woman’s eyes. “I dinna know. But soon after, I grew verra ill whenever I ate. I would throw up the food and be abed for days. Connor thought me of a weak disposition. He couldna believe that it was poison, but I knew it was, for when I would sneak down to the kitchens at night and eat what I could find, I was never ill.”

  Edan thought of Blair on her first night, how she’d been ill when served stew instead of mutton.

  Mary shook her head. “My da came to get me because of what was happening. I’ve not been ill since I got home. But after Connor, and what ye said has been happening, do ye not see that I am innocent?”

  “Why did ye not tell me?”

  “I was afraid.” Her composure cracked for a split second before she contained herself once more. “I’m sorry.”

  “Agnes stands accused as your accomplice,” Edan said. “She confessed.”

  “Then she lied.” Mary searched the great hall for Agnes. “Where is she?”

  “In the bailey.”

  Mary turned to her father. “Can we bring her in?”

  “Aye.”

  Agnes was fetched to come inside, and as soon as she saw Mary, she ran for her, arms outstretched. Edan stepped between them in an attempt to save Mary from Agnes’s attack, but Mary shoved around him. Instead of attacking her, the two women embraced.

  “What the devil?” Edan growled.

  “I feared leaving ye, begged ye to come with me.”

  “I couldna leave McQuinn.” Agnes turned to face Edan then, her face full of regret. “I lied to ye, my laird. Mary was not involved, and neither was I. But coming here seemed the only way to escape a death sentence for something I didna do, and the only way to convince ye of the truth.”

  Guilt ate at Edan’s gut. This was why he’d had doubts, because she wasn’t the one. Which meant he’d left his wife at home with the enemy. Bloody hell! She could be suffering at this very moment. Edan fought the urge to leave. He needed a few more answers.

  “Then why the cruelty to your lady, my wife?” Edan asked her.

  “I was not in charge of Lady Blair’s bath. And by the time I found out what happened, I took the blame as housekeeper for not having checked. After that, I thought to blend in so I could find out who might be at the heart of the cruelty. I hoped to put a stop to it, to save your wife, rather than allow what happened to Lady Mary start all over again.”

  “Why did ye not say so?” he asked. “If ye’d only spoken the truth, we’d not be here. My wife would not be in danger now.”

  “I couldna figure out who it was, and by the time ye were accusing me, it was too late. The evidence was against me, I knew it. I only wished to appeal to your mercy, which ye did show me, in hopes I could reveal the truth to ye.”

  Edan clenched his fists. “So ye’ve no idea who it might be?”

  Agnes shook her head. “The only one who would have had access was Willa, but the lass is too sweet for all that.”

  “Too sweet,” Edan said, his stomach coiling. He turned to Raibert. A flash of shock and pain showed in his eyes before he shuttered it. Did he think his sister capable? Incapable? Soon enough, they’d find out. Not another minute could be wasted here when Blair might be in trouble. “We have to go. Now.”

  “Aye, my laird.” Raibert’s voice was tight. He knew what his laird was suspecting. But he didn’t place any blame with Raibert, for he could not have known, could he?

  “Can I come back? Will ye nay banish my husband?” Agnes said. “He’s only ever been loyal to the Rose clan.”

  Edan let out a harsh breath. “Aye.” Then to Laird Guinn, “I thank ye for your hospitality, and for allowing me to speak with your daughter.”

  “Can we send ye with provisions?”

  “We’ve enough. Thank ye.”

  Edan hurried from the castle. If he thought the journey here was long, the four days back were going to be agony as he worried over whether his wife would be alive when he got there.

  Blair woke in the dark. Hard, cold earth beneath her body. For a moment, she thought she’d been buried alive, but the space around her was too vast when she held out her hands. Not even a sliver of light came inside. And it was damp. Cold.

  She could hear the scurrying feet of rats, feel their noses sniffing against her body, and as she batted them away, she wondered how long it would be before they decided to feast on her despite her protests.

  Where was she?

  This was not the dungeon. Not a cave. Maybe she was dead. Maybe this was Hell, and Father Thomas had seen her banished here.

  She pushed to her feet, wobbling and swaying against dizziness. Her head pounded.

  She reached up, touched
a place on her forehead that hurt like the devil, and her fingers came away hot and sticky.

  Blood.

  What had happened?

  She’d been in her chamber getting ready for bed, talking to Willa, petting Bluebell.

  And then Willa had hit her hard on the head with…something. A candlestick.

  So how had she ended up here? In this dungeon that wasn’t a dungeon?

  “Hello!” she called out to no one, and only the rats answered with a quick scurry.

  Blair held her hands out in front of her, shuffling forward, not knowing what she might kick until she came to a wet and grimy earthen wall. She was definitely underground somewhere. She slid her hands along the wall, walking slowly around and around, never really certain if there was a beginning or an end, but determining wherever she was must be circular.

  Choking on a sob, she collapsed to the ground and pulled her knees up to her chin. A great shudder rocked her. She reached for her boot, remembering the knife Edan had given her. She’d not even had time to pull it. But it was empty. Willa had taken it.

  She was going to die in here. Without a doubt.

  She had no idea how long she’d been here already, but she guessed only a few hours. Her head wound still bled, and while it felt crusty around the edges, the center was warm and slick.

  Hours… And there was still at least a sennight, give or take a day or two, before Edan would return. By the time he did, she would have perished. Wouldn’t she? How long could one last underground without food or water?

  “Oh, Edan,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  She was sorry for luring him into this marriage that had been doomed to fail from the start.

  “I’m sorry, Mama and Da.” For not trying harder to be the good girl she’d strived to be, for not listening and paying attention.

  Oh, God… Where was Bluebell? What had Willa done to her?

  That only made Blair sob harder. The one friend she thought she’d made here at Kilravock had been her worst enemy. And now everyone, including her sweet lamb, was going to pay for that mistake.