Dangerous (14 page)

“Eric, what is it?”

“Grant was anxious to marry her in Caileann, rather than wait ’til they returned to Briarton. Even for a widow, the church requires notification of the intent to marry.”

“We all thought it very odd, but she agreed to it, and Father Blair made no objection.”

“How long has he been here?”

The hazel eyes narrowed in comprehension. “You can’t be thinking he’s involved in this. The man’s a priest.”

“Ofttimes people aren’t what they seem,” Eric reminded him. “How did he come to Caileann?”

“The bishop in Edinburgh sent him, but I’m certain he has no care for whom Elisabeth marries.”

“Blair arrived with a letter, no doubt. Closed with the bishop’s seal.”

Frowning, Christian shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. Father talked with him and liked him. We had no reason to question him as if he were a criminal.”

“I think we do now.”

***

Kevin Blair left his workroom and stepped into the nave, startled to find Eric Jordanne lounging insolently on the steps leading to the altar. He’d been gone but a moment. How—?

Shaking aside his sudden fit of nerves, he summoned a gracious smile. “Good morn to you, Eric. How are things progressing with your house?”

“Quite well. This morning, however, I encountered a problem that you may be able to help me solve.”

“Me?” Even to his own ears, his laughter sounded nervous. Hoping to appear nonchalant, he took a seat in the front pew. He’d prefer not to be within Jordanne’s lethal range, but he saw no help for it. “I’m not a craftsman, but I’ll be glad to help you if I can.”

From his boot, the Frenchman drew a gleaming dagger. Pressing the point of it to his fingertip, he turned it slowly, apparently deep in thought. The blade hurled shards of sunlight onto the walls frescoed with heavenly scenes, an ominous contradiction in the midst of this peaceful place.

“’Tis a puzzle, actually,” his visitor went on. “I hope to solve it before someone kills me.”

“Dear God.” Kevin crossed himself, buying time to steady his voice. “Who would wish to kill you?”

“I’m thinking you can tell me.”

As those sharp blue eyes pinned him, Eric Jordanne looked every bit the deadly knight. Kevin never saw him move, yet the dagger now quivered in the wood beside his right elbow.

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard as he sent up a quick prayer for forgiveness and another for deliverance. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Behind him, the chapel doors slammed shut, and he heard the bar being dropped across them. He knew without looking that it was Christian Redmond striding up the wide aisle. Turning toward Kevin, he stood beside Jordanne and crossed his arms. The darker face held barely contained fury, the lighter one a bemused expression.

Neither of them spoke. It was not necessary.

They had him, and Kevin didn’t doubt they’d turn him over to the king if he didn’t offer them something in exchange for his life. He had more gold than he’d ever need, but he didn’t think it was sufficient to buy his freedom.

“What do you want?” He hoped his meek tone would placate them a bit. That dagger hadn’t missed by accident, to be sure.

“Let’s start with your name,” Christian prompted him. “Your real name.”

“Kevin Blair is my real name. For a time, I studied with the Benedictine monks but eventually found the monastic life not to my liking.”

“You missed women,” the young noble interpreted tersely.

“I nearly married once, but she stole everything I had and ran off with an Italian sailor. I’m well educated but have no other skills, so my choices were quite limited.”

“Scribe, tutor, steward.” Christian listed several other possibilities. “Why choose the path you have?”

“Money. I wish to return home to York.”

Jordanne growled dangerously. “I’d gladly send you farther south than that.”

“Now, Eric, let him finish. Perhaps he can help us set things to rights.”

The reasonable tone lifted Kevin’s flagging spirits. He might get out of this yet. “Truly, all I want is to leave this Godforsaken country and become a clothier.”

Christian strolled along the front of the nave. “Since you’re not a priest, my sister’s marriage to Grant Colton isn’t sanctioned by the Church.” He turned to Kevin. “Correct?”

“Yes, but they signed the marriage documents and so legally, they’re wed. Beyond that, I understand that Lady Elisabeth is now with child.”

Jordanne’s growl was even more menacing than the last, and Kevin decided that it would be wise not to mention the lady again.

Christian patted his friend’s shoulder as if soothing a temperamental wolfhound. “We suspect Colton orchestrated the raid that killed my kinsman John Redmond, but we have no proof. Can you help us?”

Kevin’s jaw fell open in horror, and he crossed himself. “Why would he do such an evil thing?”

“To gain my sister and a foothold in the Highlands. When she renounced her holdings, he was forced to devise a new strategy to strengthen his position.”

“That’s why he asked me so many questions about her inheritance. At the time, I couldn’t imagine why he was so interested in the provisions that had been made for Lady Redmond. Her decision to relinquish her widow’s share distressed him greatly.”

“No doubt,” Christian muttered.

“I must warn you: the man is obsessed with her, to the point of arranging her abduction. Even should you be able to convince the bishop to dissolve their marriage, I fear Lord Colton would still present a grave threat to her.” His eyes went to Eric. “And to you. He despises you.”

“Not nearly as much as I despise him.”

Though he knew they’d not accept it, Kevin realized that he must offer an apology. Steeling his nerves, he looked from one to the other. “Words cannot express my remorse for what I’ve done. Greed closed my eyes to what should have been obvious to me, and I wish I could do something to atone for my part in this injustice.”

The two men exchanged glances, then Christian looked to him with a smile. “Whatever Grant paid you, I’ll triple it if you’ll help us.”

Kevin waited several moments to be sure his heart had only skipped and not stopped entirely. Then again, his recent associations had made him cautious. “With so much wealth in my possession, I would have need of safe passage home.”

“I’ll send a knight with you.” Kevin’s gaze went to Eric, and the youngest brother laughed. “Not him. One who won’t be tempted to slit your throat while you sleep. What say you?”

He’d be secure for the rest of his life. He could change his name and begin anew, far from the battle-torn border, tucked away in a cozy shop where even the malevolent Lord Colton would never find him. Beyond that, it was the right thing to do.

“Very well.” He stood to offer his hand. “I will help you.”

Christian accepted the gesture, then stepped back as he motioned toward the small workroom adjoining the nave.

Kevin skirted the glowering Jordanne and fled to the safety of his writing desk. He pushed aside his transcriptions and smoothed out a fresh parchment before inking his quill.

“And now.” Christian rested a boot on the edge of Kevin’s chair and draped his arm across his knee before nodding to him. “From the beginning.”

Chapter Twelve

One morning, Elisabeth was passing by one of the large arched windows that looked out over the bailey from the second story of Briarton Castle. Sunlight cascaded through the beveled panes, beckoning her over to drink in the long-awaited warmth of spring. Birds fluttered about gathering material for their nests, their mingled twittering so loud she could hear them through the glass.

Farmers who’d come to have their plows sharpened by the blacksmith stopped to talk to one another, laughing and offering hearty handshakes before continuing on to their work in the fields. Maids hung rugs on stout lines, using paddles to beat the winter’s grime from the wool. Elisabeth pressed her hands to the glass, wishing she could join them, if only to enjoy their company.

Grant forbade her to leave the private wing of the keep except for meals. Though her rooms were large and luxurious, they were a gilded cage to someone accustomed to roaming about more or less as she pleased. He argued that she needed her rest, but she knew perfectly well that he was hiding something from her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

While she stood at the window, a group of six horsemen rode through the gates, halting in the midst of the bailey. Her breath caught in her throat when she noticed that their leader was a man dressed in silvery gray dismounting from a dappled stallion. She couldn’t see his face, but his build was similar to that of the well-spoken man who’d abducted her last autumn. Hoping to catch a few strains of conversation, she eased open a narrow side window in time to hear him addressing his men. The smoothly accented voice carried on the breeze, and a chill slithered up her spine.

It was Gray.

He strode with purpose to a side door that led directly to Grant’s private study. Apparently, he was no ordinary visitor to the castle but had been allowed special access to the lord’s domain. What was he doing in Briarton?

Heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and fury, Elisabeth schooled her features to calm and slowly descended the main staircase. Grant’s ever-present guards wouldn’t permit her near his study, but some eavesdropping might reveal Gray’s purpose for being there.

Keeping alert for the bevy of maids scurrying about their duties, she reached the base of the stairs without incident. As it was mid-morning, the main hall was vacant, but a platter of biscuits from their early meal had been left out for anyone who might be hungry. Elisabeth snatched one up so that if Grant saw her, she could claim she’d defied his orders in search of something to eat. The child growing inside her was older than anyone suspected, and he demanded a great deal of food.

Nibbling at her biscuit, she sat in a massive chair tucked into a corner, its back to the open corridor. Small as she was, she doubted anyone could see her from the entryway. Before long, she heard the echoes of heavy boot steps and male voices.

“The clans we discussed before are gaining in strength,” Gray said in a cautionary tone. “They mean to converge on the eastern edge of your territory and destroy your forces.”

“Those three canna agree on which meat to serve at dinner, much less on military strategy,” Grant scoffed.

“That may be so, but I would remind you of the disastrous consequences the last time you underestimated an opponent.”

“I gained what I sought, did I not? Elisabeth was wasted on that doddering old sot, and now she’s where she should have been all along. With me.”

“Many good men have died in that quest,” Gray reminded him quietly.

They moved further away from her, and Elisabeth heard nothing more of their conversation. Staring at the head table, her mind spun through what she’d learned. John hadn’t died in a clan skirmish but had been attacked by Grant’s men, killed simply because he’d had the gall to marry her. She had no trouble believing that Grant was more than capable of such a thing, just as he’d devised the ambush that had nearly cost Eric his life.

Resting her head against the high back of the velvet-covered chair, she closed her eyes and finally accepted the truth.

She was married to a monster.

***

“You know what to do?” Elisabeth whispered to Glenda when Grant entered the main hall for dinner.

“When she was young, my grandma traveled about doing mystery plays,” the cheeky maid replied with a wink. “I’ve a bit of her in me.”

“I hope it’s more than a bit. Grant won’t be easy to trick.”

As he neared the dais that held the head table, Glenda began sobbing. “Please, milady. I simply must get myself home.”

“Glenda, dear,” Grant cooed, offering her a chair. “What’s wrong?”

“My ma has taken sick with a terrible fever,” the girl sniffled, wringing her skirts between her hands. “She’s been abed for days, and with the four little ones to tend, my da is at his wits’ end. He’s fallen behind in his planting, and he’s begged me to come home to help. It should only be a day or two, ’til he can make other arrangements.”

“Then you must go, of course. My personal coachman will take you, then you may send a messenger when you’re ready to return.” Smiling, he patted her shoulder. “Your family needs you, and that’s where you should be.”

Leaping from her seat, Glenda thanked him profusely before darting off to pack her things. As Grant settled in beside her, Elisabeth could scarcely contain her astonishment. This wasn’t the same man who’d conspired to kill John so he might have her for his own. He wasn’t capable of poisoning Eric to secure her hand in marriage.

And then, he spoke again.

“Several visitors are coming to see me later this evening. You’re to remain in your solar until I send a maid to tell you they’ve left.”

“Why?” she asked before thinking.

Very slowly, he turned to her with an expression harder than granite. He said nothing, and his condescending mien irked her almost to the point of argument. Fortunately, reason asserted itself. Glenda was on her way to Christian with the startling information Elisabeth had overheard that morning. If she were to confront her domineering husband now, he might change his mind and forbid the trip.

“Of course, I’ll accede to your wishes,” she said with a demure nod. “I only thought that your guests might enjoy meeting your new wife.”

The hardness left his features, and he gave her the smile she’d once thought rivaled the sun. “Perhaps another time.” Lifting her hand, he kissed the ring that sparkled there. “It means a great deal to me that you’d think of it.”

She shifted the discussion to safer topics, such as plowing and the new lambs that had begun appearing in the stable. While they talked, in her imagination, she heard Eric’s voice.

Be patient, mon cœur
.

And so she would, because in truth she had no choice.

***

Eric listened raptly as Glenda relayed Elisabeth’s message. Loathe to endanger her maid with a letter, she’d entrusted her very sobering information to the girl’s quick memory. Though it only increased his worry, Eric had to admire the lady’s cunning. She understood her opponent well.

“You’re absolutely certain about this?” Christian asked. When Glenda nodded, he muttered something vile in Gaelic. “The man’s a lunatic.”

“He does love her, in his own way,” she offered in a helpful tone. “I don’t believe he’d do anything to harm her.”

“Being a prisoner hurts in ways no one can see,” Eric said.

“You’re right in that,” Christian agreed. “But short of starting a clan war, how do we get her away from him?”

“We need a plan,” Glenda answered eagerly. “When I return to Briarton, I’ll share it with Elisabeth so she knows what to expect.”

“You’ll not be going back,” the young noble corrected her. “It’s too dangerous.”

She rounded on him, eyes blazing with determination. “I canna leave Elisabeth there alone! She needs me, especially once the baby is born.”

Her loyalty was admirable, and the stubborn set of her chin made it clear she’d not be swayed. “She could be quite useful, Christian. A maid is all but invisible to Grant, and Glenda can move around Briarton in ways we cannot.”

“Just tell me what to do,” she added, looking from one to the other.

“For now, your assignment will be the toughest of all,” Eric warned. “You must wait.”

“But you’ll devise a way to get Elisabeth free of him,” she countered anxiously.

“Not to worry, lass,” Christian assured her with an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll conjure up something.”

***

Elisabeth was out walking with Grant when a familiar open carriage drove through the gates. Catching up her skirts, she hurried along as quickly as her clumsy gait would allow, reaching the bailey just as the driver clambered down from his seat.

“Christian!” Overjoyed, she laughed as he swept her into his arms and spun her about as if he’d not seen her in years. His comforting strength surrounded her, driving away the uncertainty that plagued her more with each passing day.

“’Tis good to see you, sprite.” Standing away, he grinned at her rounding figure. “There’s a wee bit more of ye now, isn’t there?”

She smacked his shoulder, then waited for him to help Glenda down. In a new day dress the color of buttercups, she looked fresh as a wildflower. Judging by the pink in her cheeks, she’d thoroughly enjoyed Christian’s undivided attention these past couple of days.

“Your mother is feeling better, I hope,” Elisabeth said as Grant joined them.

“She’s on the mend at last.” Glenda unleashed her most brilliant smile on Grant. “I canna thank you enough for allowing me to go home. My parents send you their gratitude as well.”

“Not at all,” he replied, slipping an arm around Elisabeth’s shoulders. “Though Elisabeth was quite lonely without you.”

“We’ll have a nice long talk later,” Glenda promised before turning to embrace Christian. “Many thanks for bringing me back.”

Smiling, he kissed her cheek in a fraternal gesture. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again soon.”

She returned the smile, then all but skipped inside. Once she’d gone, Elisabeth waited for her brother to reveal whatever strategy he’d concocted before coming to see her.

“What do ye think of our newest team, Grant?” he asked, patting the neck of the bay nearest him.

“Good conformation, lovely coloring. Where did you come by them?”

“Annandale. After our long winter, they’re happy to be out of their stalls. Would you and your wife care for a ride?”

He’d addressed all his comments to Grant, which irked her to no end. But she understood he was pandering to her husband and did her best to mask her displeasure.

“Sadly, I cannot get away, but Elisabeth is welcome to accompany you. Assuming you take on no other passengers,” he added with a chuckle.

Far from humorous, it was a warning, and Christian’s mouth tightened ever so slightly. “I am acquainted with no one hereabouts that I’d be taking on.”

“Good.” Shouldering past Christian, he offered Elisabeth his hand, guiding her into the carriage. “Enjoy your ride.”

Before long, the fresh air and her brother’s entertaining conversation drove away her anxiety. They chatted pleasantly about all manner of things, but not once did he refer to the information she’d sent him through Glenda. After a while, she realized they were on a little-used road that flowed beside the stream separating Redmond territory from Colton. As they rounded the curve near Westerly Brook, they halted at the end of a lane that had recently been beaten into the dirt.

Elisabeth surveyed the unfinished stone house with interest. Built of dark gray schist, the thick walls looked sturdy enough to repel an army. Though only the first floor stood complete, the outlines of the upper rooms rose gracefully against the backdrop of trees. Tall windows were scattered liberally about, covered in lacy grillwork whose beauty disguised its solid purpose. Much like finely wrought chain mail, no sword could penetrate the tightly-woven pattern.

When Christian turned onto the lane, she angled a look at him. “Why are we stopping here?”

“You’ll see.”

As they continued down the road, she saw movement inside the house. When the heavy oaken door opened, only half of it swung inward. If both sides were opened, they’d form a welcoming arch but as it was, only one person could enter at a time. The strategic elements of the small fortress were impressive, and a proud smile tugged at her lips. Only one man she knew would have conceived such a plan for his home.

“What the Devil are you doing here?” Eric demanded as he approached the carriage.

“Such a gracious welcome,” Christian teased him. “Do ye receive many guests?”

With his most somber look, Eric pointed toward the dirt road. “Take her back, Christian. Now.”

“Don’t be absurd,” she scolded him. “No one followed us.”

Their gazes locked in a stubborn battle, and for a horrible moment, she feared that he might actually turn her away. To keep her safe, of course, but ’twould hurt beyond measure if he did.

Finally, he relented, his eyes shifting to a muted blue. “Come inside while Christian and I stable your horses.”

“I’ll not be staying,” Christian told him. “But thank you all the same.”