A Highlander’s Homecoming (16 page)

Slipping around the corner into the hallway behind the kitchens, she pulled up short to avoid running down a maid headed in her direction.

“Stop right there,” the young woman demanded, stepping in front of Isa. “Are you one of them tinklers? Master Roland warned us to be on our guard for the likes of you lest you steal everything not nailed down. Who let you into the castle anyway?”

Isa briefly considered claiming to be exactly that, but quickly decided such an assertion would likely get her tossed out on her ear faster than admitting to her own identity.

“I am no one of the tinklers.” Isa lifted her chin and glared at the maid. “I’m on my way to see Auld Annie.”

“Oh no.” Shaking her head, the maid again stepped in front of Isa as she attempted to go forward. “That’s no allowed for any but those who see to her care. Master Roland’s orders.”

“Master Roland’s orders, is it?” Isa asked, allowing the contempt she felt to color her words. “No that it’s any of yer business, but I’ve just left the company of the MacGahan himself, and I’m visiting Annie with his full knowledge and permission. Now, as I recall, the laird’s word overrides that of Master Roland, does it no?”

The young woman’s face wrinkled in her confusion. “I . . . I suppose. I can show you where—”

“I’ve no a need for yer help,” Isa interrupted, pushing past the maid. “I ken the way on my own.”

When Isa had lived at the castle, the room had been for little more than storage. But after the horrendous fire that had taken the life of Annie’s only daughter and nearly killed both her and Jamie as well, the laird had granted the old woman lodging in the castle itself. She’d chosen this room over any other because it kept her close to her beloved kitchens even though the burns to her hands and arms kept her from returning to her position as head cook.

Isa pushed open the door, stepping down into the dimly lit room. At the far end, Annie sat in front of a low-burning fireplace, looking small and lonely, swathed in a mound of woolens.

“Annie? How are you feeling?”

The old woman turned her head slowly, her eyes lighting in recognition. “Isabella? Is that you, lass? Come closer and let Auld Annie have a look at you.”

Isa hurried over, dropping to her knees at Annie’s feet to clasp the old woman’s hand. This was the one person she’d been able to turn to when she was growing up. The one person who’d been here from the time she was born and yet passed no judgment on her. The only person who’d ever seemed to care what happened to her.

“What ails you, Annie? Jamie said you were so ill they wouldn’t allow him in to bother you.”

Annie made an irritated clucking sound with her tongue that Isa remembered from her own childhood.

“I suppose that explains why I’ve no had a visit from him in so long. Him or anyone else, save the lasses who bring my meals.”

“It’s by Roland’s orders no one’s allowed in to see you.” Orders that Isa was at a complete loss to understand. “Why would he want to keep you isolated?”

Annie ducked her head, refusing to meet Isa’s eyes. “I canna imagine why.”

“I can.”

At the sound of Robbie’s deep voice, Isa jumped to her feet, whirling around to place Annie at her back before confronting him.

“What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”

“Aye.” He stood like a guard by the door, his hand resting casually on his sword. “It’s no as though I’m likely to let you roam unprotected through these halls, is it?”

“Yer no my . . .” Isa stopped herself, the word
keeper
about to roll off her tongue. It would do no good to argue with the stubborn man since that’s exactly what he saw himself as. “Well, then, if you know so much, just why would Roland think to keep a harmless old woman locked away from everyone else in the castle?”

Instead of flashing that disarming smile of his she’d expected, he focused his gaze beyond her shoulder to Auld Annie. “Yer friend there may indeed be harmless, but the secrets she keeps are no.”

“Secrets,” Isa scoffed. This was Annie, the woman who had been her only confidante as a girl. Annie wouldn’t be keeping secrets from her. “Dinna be ridiculous, Robbie. What secrets could Auld Annie possibly have?” Even as the words left her lips she felt the air around her waver and thicken with the smell of fear.

He didn’t answer right away, instead staring silently at Annie, as if he were stalling for time. Or giving the old woman a chance to speak up. When he did respond, his eyes took on that hard, unfeeling warrior look she’d first admired.

“Perhaps the identity of Jamie’s father?”

“Yer as mad as she pretends to be,” Annie muttered, dipping her head toward Isa. “There’s naught about wee Jamie to interest anyone, so you’ve no need to be bringing his name into our conversation.”

“Really?” Robbie’s eyebrow lifted with his question. “I’d think being the laird’s bastard would draw a great deal of interest.”

“No!” Annie surged to her feet, woolens falling around her like dead leaves. “Dinna ever speak those words aloud. I’ll no risk losing Jamie as I did my poor Jone. I’ll go to my own grave first.”

The old woman’s emotions clouded the air, swirling and tangling with Isa’s own confusion, forming a mix so heavy Isa fought to catch her breath.

“Roland fancies himself the next laird. He’ll no allow any challengers to that goal.” Robbie’s tone carried no question, only a statement of fact, as if he were putting together a list. Then, his eyes lighting as if he’d found the missing piece of a broken pottery, he turned his gaze on Isa. “A fact that would explain the MacGahan’s concerns for Isabella’s safety.”

“What are you saying?” Isa pushed the words from her mouth, fighting against the heavy air around her. “Yer making no sense.”

No sense at all, but the fear continued to pour off Annie in waves, beating at Isa like storm-driven swells hitting the shore. Isa’s vision narrowed as she struggled for air, stumbling forward.

Suddenly Robbie was there, his arm around her shoulders. The bubble of clean, clear air surrounding him filled her lungs as he urged her toward the exit.

At the doorway she looked back at Auld Annie. Though the woman’s emotions blurred the air as they shimmered in the distance between them, the truth was also visible. There was age but no illness in Annie. She stood erect, her cheeks pink and healthy. The woman was prisoner, not patient, pure and simple.

“Dinna fash yerself over Jamie’s welfare. I’ll no let anything happen to him,” she assured the older woman.

“That’s beyond yer power, I fear. Only by hiding who he is can I hope for his safety.”

“But, Annie . . .” she stopped as the old woman held up her hand.

“No, lass. Mark well my words, MacQuarrie. You must take her far away from here. Far away where she’ll be safe from those who would do her harm.”

“My plan exactly, madam,” Robbie murmured, shoving Isa out the door and closing it behind them.

Robert’s original intent in following Isa had been nothing more than to ensure her safety. Once he’d seen her with the old woman, though, he’d realized there was more to her relationship with Annie than met the eye.

Before he left Castle MacGahan, he intended to find a few minutes to chat with Auld Annie again, but without Isa around. He suspected if anyone could shed some light on Jamie’s story about Isa’s mother, this woman would be the one.

All that would have to wait for now.

Something he didn’t quite understand had happened in that room back there. Something that had physically
weakened Isa. Something that had set the mark on his arm to tingling like bugs crawling under his skin.

At this moment, he didn’t really care what was the cause. He simply wanted to get her away from the room, away from that woman and away from this castle as quickly as possible.

That she had allowed him to hustle her out of there with no resistance spoke to him of the serious nature of what they’d encountered. In his experience, Isa did nothing against her will without a battle.

“Once yer grandfather has spoken his vows, we’ll slip out to the stables and make our way beyond the castle. Until then, yer not to be out of my sight unless I say it’s safe to do so. Yer especially not to be around this Lardiner fellow. Do you hear me?”

One thing was clear to Robert now. Castle MacGahan was rife with political intrigue. He’d seen it often enough before—he should have recognized it on his prior visit. But he’d been distracted, first by his need to find Isabella and then by the woman herself. He might not know who all the players were, but he did know there were battle formations being drawn in this hall, and clearly he and Isabella were caught behind enemy lines.

It grated on his nerves that he’d walked into the situation willingly. More than willingly. He’d actively encouraged Isa to come here today.

“If it’s no the devil himself,” Isa murmured next to him, her gaze fixed ahead of them.

Down the hallway, Roland approached, accompanied by two men who were obviously his personal
guards. Not that they posed much of a threat. Robert had little doubt he could deal with all three of them easily enough, though he wasn’t at all fond of trying to do so in this confined hallway with Isa at his side. Too great a risk that she might be hurt in the scuffle.

“Well, well, MacQuarrie. It would appear you’ve been a busy man. Isabella looks almost like a normal woman.” Lardiner, a sneer lifting his lip, stopped several feet away, his guards on either side of him.

“I’m afraid you have the advantage of me, good sir.” Robert felt the ice of impending battle settle over him. He smiled as he stepped a pace ahead of Isa, keeping his hand on her forearm just in case he needed to quickly shove her behind him. “You are?”

Roland’s jaw tightened, but he managed a cursory tilt of his head.

“Roland Lardiner, second in command to the laird of this castle.”

“Ah, yes.” Robert wrinkled his brow as if searching his memory. His friend Jesse had long extolled the virtues of what he called pushing an enemy’s buttons to test their mettle. “I remember now. My father has an underling such as you at our keep.”

The man’s face colored like a mottled beet.

“May I ask yer purpose in being in this particular hallway?”

“I came to see Auld Annie,” Isa blurted out before Robert tightened his grip on her arm.

“I trust you had a pleasant visit with the old woman?” Lardiner’s beady eyes narrowed with his question.

“I encouraged Isabella to come, though I would no go so far as to call the few moments spent in a dank
sickroom pleasant.” Robert eased a little farther in front of Isa. “Nonetheless, our visit here seemed a good opportunity for Isabella to say her final farewells since she’ll be coming away with me once the laird is wed.”

“Indeed?”

“Indeed.” Robert locked eyes with Lardiner, holding his gaze until the other man looked away. “And now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be out to the courtyard for some fresh air to wipe away that nasty experience, won’t we, Isabella?”

To her credit, she said nothing as he pulled her forward. As discreetly as possible, he maneuvered her ahead of him when they passed by Lardiner and his men, placing his own body behind her as a shield.

Just in case.

“What did you mean by . . .” she started, but he cut her words off.

“Not here. Outside, where we won’t be overheard.” The walls of this time period might not have the electronic bugs he’d encountered in his new time, but the people who inhabited these castles were often lingering in dark corners. Listening.

Listening and carrying tales. Which probably accounted for their meeting with Lardiner and his men in that hallway. Robert would bet money someone had scurried off to tell the second in command that Isabella had broken his no-visit rule.

He hurried her forward, relaxing only a little after they’d made their way out to the bailey. At least here he could see what might be coming at them.

He almost stumbled over her when, in the middle of the courtyard, she abruptly halted, whirling to face him.

“We have to do something about the way my grandfather is treating Auld Annie. She’s being held prisoner in her own quarters.”

“That’s no yer grandfather’s doing, lass. It’s Lardiner who’s given those orders.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned in toward him, her hands on her hips. “Roland is naught but a toothless lapdog for my grandfather. He does the laird’s bidding.”

Isa had been too long away from the company of others if she believed that. Lardiner looked to him to be a dog with very sharp teeth. But this was neither the time nor the place to try to convince her of that fact.

Instead he shrugged and shook his head. “Say what you will.”

“Explain yerself, MacQuarrie. And for that matter, what was that blether about Jamie? What was going on in Auld Annie’s room?”

If the dangerous glint in her beautiful eyes hadn’t warned of her anger, her use of his surname certainly did. But he had questions of his own that needed answers.

“I might well ask the same of you. What happened to you in there? You looked as if you were suffocating.”

Isa’s lips drew into a thin line, and her eyes quickly darted away from his and back again. “That’s no what I meant. How could the laird have fathered Jamie?”

She obviously thought to ignore his query. He wouldn’t be sidetracked as easily as that, but if she wanted to parry words, he was more than up to the task.

“In the usual way, I’d imagine. You do have a knowledge of that process, do you no?”

Her cheeks flushed an attractive pink and she turned
to look out across the courtyard, her arms crossed under her breasts.

Now there was a sight to make a man’s mouth water if he’d ever seen one.

“Because if you dinna ken how it’s done, lass, I’d be more than happy to demonstrate for you once we’re away from this place.”

The pink in her cheeks morphed into an overall dull red.

“What are those men doing?” she asked, walking away from him in the direction she faced even as she spoke the words.

“Wait!” he called, looking ahead as he hurried to catch up with her.

Did the woman just live to make his life difficult?