How to Handle a Highlander (Hot Highlanders) (21 page)

“Achaius will become suspicious if I wear them.”

Gahan’s eyes narrowed. “I doubt it. The man is below stairs, no doubt haggling over the shade of yer inheritance, like a head of cattle. He spares no thought to yer personal comfort.”

“It is so in most marriages.”

Gahan tipped one boot toward her to reveal a sheath sewn into its side. He pulled on a piece of antler, which looked the same as the other buttons used to close the boot, and drew a thin dagger from it.

“Be careful when ye push it into place. The blade is sharp and strong.” He handed them to her. “Put them on and do nae take them off.”

“Ye want me to sleep in them?” She was already sitting down on a stool, eager to have warm toes. The boots were made of thick, soft leather. They’d cover her ankles, and had been oiled to make them waterproof. Since her father’s death, she had not worn anything so fine.

“No one is going to sleep tonight,” Gahan said grimly. “Murder is on the mind of more than one man inside this keep, and I want to know ye have some means of protecting yerself.”

He watched her lace the first boot closed. She grasped the antler horn handle and pulled it free. The candlelight flickered on the blade glimmering with folds that looked like small stars.

“This is Damascus steel. It’s the only steel strong enough to be forged this thin and nae break,” Gahan told her.

“It is too expensive a gift for me,” Moira said. She pushed it back into the sheath and reached for the knot she’d tied off the lace with.

Gahan grasped her chin to bring her gaze to his. His eyes flashed with determination. “Ye are worth it, Moira. Sandra is an accomplished assassin. Do nae trust her or let her too close. If ye even suspect she is acting strangely, put that blade through her throat. I wish I could keep ye guarded, but—”

“But I wed Achaius.” She stood and stroked the side of his face. “I thought it would bring peace. The women on Fraser land, they begged me to try and make him happy so he’d nae be in the mood to join with Bari in his feud.”

“I’d never respected ye so much as when I watched ye walk to the church.” Pain filled his eyes, but also admiration. “Ye were as strong as any man I’ve seen going into battle.” He drew in a deep breath. “Yet the battle has nae yet been fought. Wear the boots and do nae trust anyone. I am going to make sure Bari is pushed past his endurance. I’ve had enough of this shadow fighting.”

He turned, the longer pleats of his kilt flaring out in the back.

“I trust ye.”

He turned and smiled at her. “And I love ye.”

She held her breath as he opened the door and left.

Her face split with a smile so big the corners of her mouth felt like they were being stretched. She hugged herself and turned in a circle, because she just couldn’t stay still. Her skirts flared out and settled down as she sat down to put on her second boot.

The smile melted as she listened to the silence of the chamber. So much was unsettled, and her future lay in the outcome. Once she put on the second boot, she stood up and began inspecting the chambers. There was a sense of unease drifting on the night air. It sent a tingle down her neck and made time feel like it was frozen. But no matter how much dread filled her, she found herself happy to be facing the moment of truth at last.

She just prayed fate decided to be kind for a change.

***

“Are ye spending the night with me?” Sandra purred at Saer.

“Did ye think ye’d be allowed privacy with yer brother here? Are ye hoping he’ll find a way to free ye?”

She lifted the wreath of greens from her head and set it aside. With a delicate shrug of her shoulders, she trailed a finger over the swell of one breast.

“I assure ye, privacy is the last thing I crave.” Sandra offered him an inviting look. “I have had a year of me own company and find myself bored with privacy.”

Saer pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on. Sandra’s eyes brightened with impending victory, but he lifted his hand and gestured someone forward.

“Angus will be happy to keep ye company. I cannae leave men at the door, else risk ruining the illusion ye are happy to be me bride. Yer guard will be inside.”

The man who moved into the light cast by the candles was a hard creature. Sandra recoiled from his bulk. He wore a half sheepskin on his back like a savage, and two scars ran down his right cheek.

“She’ll do her best to lure ye close, but I suggest ye keep yer cock away from her, else ye might find yerself dead.”

Angus grinned. “She’d nae be the first to try their hand at ending me days. But unlike the Sutherlands, I never leave one alive who has done me a wrong.”

Sandra sat back down with a pout on her lips.

What sent a chill down his back was the look of determination in her eyes. The woman was evil, no matter how fair her features and form. Angus pulled a dagger from one of his sheaths and fingered the blade suggestively.

Sandra turned to contemplate her reflection. “Send a maid up with some wine, since ye’ve made it clear I shall have no other entertainment.”

“Ye are nae here to be pampered,” Saer replied.

She shot him a hard look. “I doubt Angus is accomplished in helping ladies disrobe. How much did this gown cost ye? It would be a shame if it was ruined when I tried to take it off. Considering the state of yer coffers, it would be very sad.”

“I’ll send a maid.”

Saer turned and left, reaching down to pat the side of his boot to make sure his own dagger was in place.

It was going to be a bloody night; he was sure of it. Now that Gahan had played his hand, Bari and Achaius had only until dawn to try and prevent Sandra’s wedding.

***

Achaius stumbled into the chamber, his steps scuffing the floor in his haste. He spotted her near one of the windows and pointed his cane at her. “The maid has claimed ye have nae bled since we returned from Dunrobin. Ye’re useless to me without a child.”

Rage edged his words, but Moira wasn’t afraid of him. She lifted her chin and stared straight at him. Knowing Gahan was near made her bold, or maybe just desperate. All she knew for sure was she couldn’t continue the charade that was her marriage.

“How could I be with child when ye have never lain with me?” Moira said angrily, her patience exhausted.

“Because Gahan Sutherland is yer lover,” he shot back, jabbing his cane in her direction. “Do nae think I do nae know he’s been sniffing after ye from the moment he laid eyes upon ye. Why do ye think I made the trip to Dunrobin? I wanted to make sure he had the chance to toss yer skirts.”

He was coming closer, working his way across the floor with his tirade. “Ye’re as calculating as Bari,” she accused. The wall behind her bothered her immensely. She edged away from him, making sure to keep out of his reach.

“It’s me position in life to make sure I leave me clan better off than it was when I became laird! Nae that I would expect any woman to understand the way of the world.” He sniffed. “Yer value is between yer thighs and in yer belly. Now did ye fuck him or nae? Ye’d better nae be a useless virgin still, because the only thing I need you for is a Fraser-born heir.”

Moira gaped at Achaius. Could she be pregnant with Gahan’s child? Now that she thought about it, her monthly courses
had
stopped, but she’d been so preoccupied with trying to put all thoughts of Gahan out of her mind by putting Matheson Tower to rights that she hadn’t noticed till now. Moira unconsciously put a protective hand to her belly. Achaius’s eyes widened.

“That’s all the proof I need. Now I just have to wait to claim the brat as our son, and I won’t have need of ye anymore.” Achaius cackled and then started coughing, the fit causing him to lean on his cane.

Fear knotted in her belly. She didn’t know what to do, only that she had to find Gahan. Moira bolted to the door, throwing it open and almost barreling into the Matheson retainers who turned to stare at her. They were barring her path.

“Me husband has instructed me to go to the kitchen to fetch something to ease his cough,” she said, trying to appear as calm as possible. She stepped forward, making the men choose to either let her collide with them or move out of her way. They moved aside, and she hurried down the steps before Achaius recovered.

Her freedom was going to be short. She made it to the bottom floor of the keep and looked around. Everything was cast in shadow. The wind was howling outside, making the candle flames dance and blowing some of them out.

It was the sort of time when evil spirits rose up to do their work.

She shook her head, forcing herself not to get caught up in superstition. The only evil at work was that of greedy men.

And women like Sandra.

Heavy steps came from the stairs, and she picked up her skirts to run. She didn’t know where Gahan was, but she couldn’t stay where the Matheson retainers might find her. The hall would be full of people, and they would likely return her to her husband, so she turned and ducked into the narrow passageway that served as a link between the hall and the kitchens.

The main kitchens were outside to protect the keep from fire. The night air was bracing as she made her way along the outside of the building. She didn’t dare go inside the kitchen either, for the boys who served the keep would be sleeping there. In a castle full of people, she was very much alone. Finding those she might trust was almost impossible.

But she had to or lose everything.

***

“Get after her!”

Achaius didn’t much care for the bewildered look his men sent him. He raised his cane and brandished it at them.

“Now, ye sons of whores! Fetch me wife back!”

They frowned then turned and ran down the stairway after his wife.

His.

No one was going to ruin his plans. Certainly not her devil of a sister.

The empty doorway offered him an opportunity. He looked down the stairway and listened for a long moment before heading up the stairs. Everyone thought him a feeble old man, so they didn’t bother to mask what they were about when he might be watching. He climbed to the third floor and pushed the door open.

Sandra Fraser was preening in front of a mirror, with a maid beside her. She let out a screech when she saw him, but he’d already shoved the door shut.

“Now there, lass, there’s no need to be so skittish.” Achaius smiled jovially at the huge man standing near the door. “Although I’ll admit there is part of me that longs for the days when I could rouse a wench so!”

Sandra dug her hands into the skirts of the maid, dragging the girl across the room like a shield. “Send him away! He’ll kill me.” Sandra looked out the open window, searching for anything to jump down onto.

“
Kill
ye?
An old man like me?” Achaius replied. He tipped back his head and laughed. He looked at Angus and grinned as he shuffled closer to the man. “Careful, lass, me pride shall burst from all yer praise.”

Angus grinned, dropping his guard. He looked toward Sandra. “Stop yer—”

His last word was only a gurgle. His huge body jerked several times as he looked back at Achaius.

“Ye should have listened to her, lad.”

Angus fell forward, blood spilling down his chest. His lips moved like a freshly caught fish for a moment as he tried to draw breath.

“No!” Sandra screamed. The maid was whimpering as she tried to fight her way free of Sandra’s grasp.

Achaius raised the dagger and plunged toward his target. He had one brief moment of victory as he gained a hold on Sandra’s shoulder. He gripped the fabric of her gown and raised the dagger high, but she yanked away from him. He kept his grip on the fabric of her gown, but the window shutters behind her were open. The violence of their struggle sent all three of them tumbling down the outside of the tower. They bounced onto the roof of the stable.

***

At least she wouldn’t die in the top chamber of Dunrobin Castle.

Sandra floated in a haze of dream fragments as she toyed with just going back to sleep. But the scent of smoke teased her nose. There was a crackle as something caught fire, and she jerked upward, forcing herself to wake.

Were
the
Sutherlands
burning
her?

Sandra opened her eyes and saw that the candle near her mirror had been knocked through the window with her. She snuffed it out before taking notice of where she was. Clouds covered the moon, making the night black. The maid lay in a tangle of arms and legs, her neck at an odd angle, her eyes staring sightlessly into the night sky. What little light there was glistened off the wet blade of the dagger still gripped in Achaius’s hand. He was half on top of the maid, his body still.

Sandra listened, waiting for someone to approach or notice her. It was a thatch roof she was lying on, the straw still wet in the middle, which accounted for why she wasn’t engulfed in flames. But only the wind blew, making the small area that had been on fire glow red. She smiled and added more thatch to the embers. She pulled the dagger from Achaius’s hand and tucked it into her garter. Smoke rose from the thatch, and a flame erupted. She nudged it toward the edge of Achaius’s kilt and watched it catch. She moved more toward the maid and made sure her gowns were lit before moving along the wall toward the dark end of the yard. The thatch was sharp, cutting her hands, but she climbed to the edge and slid down the pole at the corner. When she touched the ground, she smelled the scent of fresh horse manure. There was a soft nicker from one of the animals, and she back away before it smelled the smoke.

The fire grew, giving her the chance to escape. By the time someone cried the alarm, both bodies would be completely engulfed in flames. The horses began to scream with panic, rearing up to fight their way free of the stable.

At last, freedom was hers.

***

Moira tried to force herself to see through the darkness. She couldn’t go back, so she kept going, sticking close to the wall to let the shadows shield her. The Great Hall had light, but she hesitated, stopping short of the doorway, because everyone beyond was only a dark shape.