Dark Side of the Laird (Highland Bound) (7 page)

“I just dinna understand why they would do that,” Logan said. “I explicitly said they were to never leave her alone for a minute.”

Ewan crossed his arms over his chest. “I canna explain it, my laird, other than what I saw plain with my own eyes.”

“The situation does not sit right with me,” Logan said. “The men would not blatantly disregard their orders without just cause. They are not traitors. And ale is not a big enough draw for them.”

“What are ye thinking?” Ewan asked.

I tried to remain as small as I could on the bed, enjoying this back and forth and learning much in the way of Logan’s mind and how it worked.

“I dinna know. Nothing,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “I canna fathom the men shirking their duties, and I canna believe that they allowed the woman to get them drunk. That would be just as ridiculous as the both of them skipping their post to share a barrel.”

“Aye, I canna say I disagree. The men seemed confused about it.”

“No doubt they were. But if they had the barrel and were unconscious when ye found them, there is no question they may have some issues remembering.”
Logan let out a deep sigh. “Take them to the dungeon. They can sober up in the darkness. I’ll think about how to deal with Isabella.”

Ewan nodded, bowed, flashed
a smile over Logan’s shoulder toward me, which earned him a jealous shove from my lover. I laughed and buried myself deeper in the blankets.

Logan shut the door behind Ewan and turned to face me, his face grave. “I have to speak with Isabella. Warn her not to go snooping around. The woman will likely get herself killed and bring a war upon us.”

I sat up in the bed, hugging the sheet close to me. “That’s what I fear, too. She’s not good for us, or for Gealach.”

“Aye.” Logan unraveled the plaid at his waist and began pleating it back around.

I chewed my lip, wanting to shout with frustration. Why wouldn’t he do something about it then?

“When you talk to her…”

He glanced up from his pleats. “What?”

I drew in a deep breath and then
let out what I was thinking in one rush of air. “How long must we wait before you implore the king? Before Isabella discovers something or tries to hurt someone?”

“She won’t hurt anyone.”

His male ego was irritating at the moment. “How do you know?” I asked. “She’s a MacDonald, don’t they do whatever it takes to get their way—no matter the costs?”

He frowned.

I leaned closer, trying to read the emotions hiding behind his fierce frown. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Logan’s
eyes locked on mine, fierce and powerful. “Aye, ye are.”

Chapter Seven

Logan

T
he laird’s solar was cold, chilling my bones, but I had no desire to light a fire. I left the hearth bare, ash littering the floor. I liked the cold, it kept me on my toes, helped me to think. Helped my men to think and to listen. The best laid plans were hatched in this room by my men and my father before me.

A
fter I finished speaking with my men today, I was going to have my nuisance guest brought in for questioning as well. Keeping the room chilled elicited a certain mindset from anyone I was going to interview, in this case, Lady Isabella. One of the reasons dungeons were so unpleasant—the incessant chill.

Three short taps sounded on the wooden door. Ewan. “Enter,” I called.

The door opened swiftly and in strode Ewan and several of my trusted guards in charge of certain sectors—Master of the Main Gate, Master of the Water Gate and Master of the Scouts.

I nodded to them each, keeping my face devoid of emotion. They closed the door and all four of them stood facing me.
Each was dressed for war as they always were—weapons adorning every inch of space on their arms, legs, back, axes on their belts.

“Men.” I faced them, hands behind my back. “Ye’re all aware of the king
’s visit and his departure. As I’m sure ye’re aware that he left behind a lady he wishes me to marry.”

The men gave
me curt nods, none showing how they felt on the matter.

“The woman is the niece of MacDonald
,” I stated.

As trained, the men showed little reaction to that news.
Simply kept their eyes on me.

“Obviously, I canna marry her,
” I continued. “For more reasons than I care to recount, but I’m certain ye can surmise why.”

Again, curt nods.
My men were observant.

“
With Lady Isabella in the castle, we’ll have to double our efforts in protecting Gealach and our surrounding lands. As far as I’m concerned, the castle now harbors an enemy.” I paced in front of them. “Have ye heard of the two men I had assigned to watch over her? How they ended up drunk in the storeroom?”

Master of the Water Gate
, Taig, looked stricken for a moment before resuming his control. One of the men was his brother.

I stopped in front of Taig. “Aye, your brother.”

He stared at me, lips pressed firmly together, waiting. His red brows were drawn together in a frown, but he didn’t speak his mind. And I knew he wouldn’t without permission.

“Speak,” I said.

“My laird, Baodan wouldn’t do that. He takes his position very seriously. This clan is all he has. He respects ye greatly and would never want to see harm come to ye, the clan or Gealach.” Taig shook his head. “I canna fathom what has transpired, but I would consider it foul play.”

“And yet he’s found sotted when he’s supposed to be on duty? The man is so far gon
e, he can barely speak his name,” I replied. “What explanation do ye give for this? That a slip of a woman held a funnel to his lips and forced him to consume the ale?”

Taig shook his head. “Baodan has never gotten like
that before in his life.” The man sounded as mystified as I felt.

“There’s a first for everything.” I shoved aside the immediate thoughts of Emma that blasted into mind.

So many firsts with her. So many more to have.

I walked away from Taig, centering my attention on the Master of the Scouts. “What say ye? Any more of your men going by the wayside?”

Gregor shook his head. “Nay, my laird. All are loyal and accounted for.”

Month’s before, a scout was found fraternizing with the enemy, allowing a
trebuchet to be built in his territory and then used to take down part of our castle walls. The deed could not go unpunished. He’d been found guilty of treason and his sentence was death. No man wanted to face the angry-cat, a leather cat-o-nine tails with jagged stones at its ends. The weapon wasn’t meant to keep a man alive. I frowned at the memory—of both being betrayed and having to take a man’s life.

After what happened to the last scout, all the men went out of their way to show their loyalty.

“What is your report of the borders?” I asked.

“Nothing pressing, my laird. The neighboring clans are sticking to their own lands. A group of laborers were traveling
along the south side of the castle, staying close to the loch. The sheep and cow herders were told to keep the animals close and not to wander up the mountains.”

“In what direction
did the laborers continue?”

“They were continuing south
west.”

“Did your scout speak with them?”

He shook his head. “Nay, my laird. They followed to see that the men continued off of Grant land, and once they were gone without incident, he returned to his post.”

“And they haven’t been seen since?”

“Nay, my laird.”

It was entirely possible that the group of laborers were simply passing through. Could be they were looking for work, but it was also conceivable that the men were in fact MacDonald
warriors in disguise. Scouting out the lay of the castle and our guards to better aid them in attack.

“Keep your men on their toes. I have a feeling we’ll have guests soon.
MacDonald’s men know how well we fortify the castle. Gaining entry through force won’t be an option for them. They will try to gain entrance through other means. Trickery. Or through assistance from someone within.”

I turned to the Master of the Gate. “Ye and your men know well who comes and goes daily. Keep the gate closed at all times. No one new steps through that gate—beggar, merchant, priest—without first being assessed by ye.”

I trudged over to my desk and pulled the cork from a bottle of whisky, then poured each of the men and myself a dram. I handed them the cups.

“These are uncertain times. Our king has gone to war with England
once again—and he’s losing. The nobles are all getting skittish. Only more incentive for MacDonald to make his move.” I took a swallow of the whisky, letting it burn a path down my throat. “The northern arse is going to do all that he can to win his bid for the crown, including marrying his family to me.”

Taig cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.
He’d not taken a sip of whisky at all.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Where is Baodan? I’d like to speak with him.” Anger edged the man’s lips. Giving me the impression he’d like to do a lot more than simply speak with his brother. Though, I’d a sixth sense it was not directed at me.

“He’s in the dungeon for the time being, Taig. Take a breath and remember your duty to this clan.
Ye can deal with your brother later.”

Taig met my eyes. “Ye, see, my laird, that’s just it. Ye are my priority, I know that. I was but hoping I could get to the bottom of Baodan’s motives.
’Haps shed some light on it.”

I cracked my knuckles studying the man. Considering my only sibling was a spoiled king I
couldn’t get through to, it was hard for me to assess whether Taig talking to Baodan would do any good. But in the end, I relented. “Ye may go to him now.” I nodded to Gregor. “Ye go with him. Hang in the shadows.”

I dismissed
the men and turned to Ewan. “Bring her to me.”

“Lady Isabella?”

“Aye. ’Tis time her and I had an understanding.”

“Aye, my laird.”

Once the door was closed, I turned back to the empty hearth, staring into nothingness, but seeing so much. Emma staring at me in bed, her heady expression enough to make me hard now. She wore the black, sheer lace gown—the one that someone had so callously torn apart and left on our doorsteps months before. I’d have to see that another one was made. Then her expression changed, staring back at me was Emma with disappointment in her eyes. Damn, but I didn’t want to let her down. Disappointing her would also be letting down my clan. It would mean that MacDonald had won. And that I could see, too. Burning buildings and screaming clansmen, women and children. Horse’s carrying MacDonalds as they raced through the villages burning buildings and mauling children. Suffering because I’d been too much a coward to do the right thing.

With the king busily planning his next strikes on England, he’d not want
ed to listen to me rant about MacDonald. As I saw it, I might have to take these matters into my own hands. Bring the fight to MacDonald. But I couldn’t do so without first talking to James. At least trying once more to reason with him.

I needed some proof from Isabella. Something that I could take with me to the king to give him reason to side with me, and allow me to move forward with my plans.
Proof that she was but a pawn, that she meant to honor her uncle’s plans. Proof of what those plans were.

A swift knock sounded at the door. A glance through the eyehole showed Ewan and Isabella standing in the corridor. He had the woman by her elbow and though she looked contrite, the
way her eyes shifted about, I could tell she was scared. Her eyes were wider than normal, mouth in an obstinate bow. Hands held tight together at her waist.

I opened the door, allowing them both entra
nce.

“My laird,” she mumbled, glancing at a chair before the unlit hearth.
I didn’t offer her a place to sit, preferring she remain as uncomfortable as possible. The lady, as bold as she was, wouldn’t go and take it without permission. There were some things even obstinate fools knew better than to do.

When her gaze met mine it was with barely held in fury. “Ye said I wouldn’t be a prisoner here,” she spat.

Judging from her stance, there was so much more she wanted to say, but the woman held her tongue, ’haps wanting to see what I had to say about it. Wanting to glean from me what I knew of her treachery. Smarter than I thought, though not as cunning.

I stalked toward her, invading her space enough to be uncomfortable but not enough to make her like it.
She moved back only an inch or two, her eyes glancing down, and I wondered if she was taking in the weapons I carried or simply interested in my physique.

Towering over her, I said through gritted teeth, “And ye never said ye were here to skulk around in places where ye
dinna belong.” I flicked my gaze to Ewan and nodded my head toward the door. “That will be all, Ewan.”

Ewan raised a brow but said nothing as he retreated. “I’ll be just outside the door, my laird.”

“’Twill not be necessary, Ewan. Please see to Lady Emma’s protection.”

We exchanged nods the
n I turned my attention back to the woman who represented my enemy in so many ways. Her hair was pulled back tight, making the skin around her temples stretch. She wore a dab of rouge on her lips and cheeks as was the fashion with ladies at court. And if she weren’t so damn mean, she might have been a beauty.

“What are ye d
oing here?” I asked her, studying her eyes for signs of lying.

“That brute guard of yours brought me here.”

Ah, so she meant to play games. I was hoping for quick and painless. “Nay, ye dinna understand my meaning, or ye ignore it. I’m asking what ye’re doing in Gealach.”

She lifted her chin, showing the haughty side that was so much a part of her that if she dismissed it, I’d be concerned. “King James brought me, if ye dinna recall.”

I bared my teeth, losing patience fast. “I recall,” I drawled out, hoping she would continue.

“Then why did ye ask? We are to be married.”

So much for hope. The chit was a thorn buried deep in my arse. “And why did he leave ye then, when I said nay? I’ll need more than your short answers, lass. Mark my words, ye’re trying my patience. I’d beat it out of ye if ye were a man.”

She smirked
, and crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up, but I avoided staring openly, knowing that was exactly what she wished. “Ye dinna understand your king very well. He gets what he wants. It doesn’t matter if ye’ve said yay or nay, nor does it matter what ye desire. The king’s wish is our demand.”