Winning the Highlander's Heart (9 page)

The news couldn’t have come at a worse time.  Malcolm reread the missive, hoping it would give him some clue as to what had happened.

Dougald rested his hand on his shoulder.  “This is not good news, Malcolm.  I worried there was foul play, but this appears to prove it so.”

“Aye, mayhap this is why the king requested us to do the job.  As Highland warriors we will be able to handle more than just the administrative details of the castle.”

“And the lady?” Angus asked, his voice worried.

Malcolm slapped his shoulder.  “We will be like her kinsman, watching out for her should anyone attempt her harm.”

He glanced in the direction of her chamber and saw her standing outside her door, staring at him.  Whatever was she doing, barefooted, her golden red hair hanging to her knees as if she’d just fallen out of bed?  His eyes shifted to the green robe she wore, and he imagined only a sheer shift beneath this, which would barely conceal her bountiful treasures.  What was she doing standing there, looking like a woodland nymph in search of a man to bed her, asking for trouble?

Glancing down at the vellum he gripped tightly in his fist, he cleared his throat.  Had she heard their words concerning the new crisis at hand?

Her green eyes were round as her gaze took in the message, then returned to his.  He had not wished to concern her before she retired to bed.  Plenty of rest is what she required.  On the morrow would be soon enough to tell her the news.

She stalked toward him, concern etched in the wrinkle of her brow, her eyes now narrowed.

So much for telling her on the morrow.

Anice’s heart pounded in her throat as the new premonition of ill tidings had forewarned her of further trouble at Brecken Castle.  What news had Malcolm received that prompted his and his brothers’ comments?  That foul play was involved?  That men who had served in battle were considered necessary to fill her staff positions to protect her if need be?

The look on Malcolm’s face indicated he’d had no intention of telling her what they had learned.  Her head pounded with fury that he thought he could withhold information concerning her business.  If it had to do with her land, her people, she had every right to know.

She warned herself that no matter the news she learned, she must not wilt again or everyone would think she had no fortitude.  Which just was not so!  ‘Twas a shock to hear the news about her missing staff.  Anyone in her situation would have been as upset.

Intent on getting the worry over, she stalked toward Malcolm.  Gritting her teeth, she fought the quiver in her jaw.  The men on her staff had been her uncle’s favorites, and they had treated her well when he had died.  She had no wish to hear ill news about any of them.

“Milady,” Malcolm said, bowing low.

His voice was soothing and concerned.  Did he worry she’d collapse in front of him as before?  She would
not
this time.  Never before had she done anything so ridiculous.  This time she could handle the news because whatever word he had would not be such a surprise.

“Mayhap you should return to your chambers and rest for tomorrow’s journey.”

 Instantly angered, she snapped, “What news have you from my castle?”  She hadn’t meant for her question to be so sharp, but her new steward would not coddle her.  If she were to retire now without knowing what had transpired, she would fret the rest of the eve away, imagining the worst sort of things.  Better to get the matter cleared up straight away.

“Milady,” he tried again, “disconcerting news arrived from your castle.  You are right, but I think it best if you return to your chamber and—”

She snatched the missive away from him and hastily read through the message until she got to the point of the matter.  “Laird Thompson...murdered,” she said under her breath.  Her knees grew weak, and she grabbed for Malcolm’s arm, cursing herself silently before the hall grew dark and the men’s frantic voices faded away.

*  *  *

When her mind cleared, Anice stared up at the blue linen canopy cloaking the bed.  The fragrance of lavender, tansy, and lady’s bedstraw stirred from the mattress when she tried to rise.  Mai grabbed her arm and lay her back down.  “Rest, milady.”

Malcolm stood nearby, his face grave.

“Do not look at me like that, Laird MacNeill.  I am no’ a wilting flower.”

A corner of his mouth tugged up and his eyes sparkled with mirth.

She looked away from him, annoyed.  Being a Highlander, she was sturdy, rugged.  Not like the English ladies who swooned at the sight of their king.  Mayhap it was the strain of being at Arundel.  She would not react so badly were she at her own castle.

She swallowed hard.  Who would do such a terrible thing to her treasurer?  “We will investigate this matter fully upon our return.”

“Aye, Lady Anice.”

With a softened stance, she faced Malcolm.  “I am sorry, Laird MacNeill.  I...well, I...”  She turned away from him as tears threatened to spill.  Not wanting him to see she was so easily overcome with emotions, she motioned for him to leave, her throat constricting too quickly for her to choke out the words.

Mai patted her hand while Malcolm’s footsteps padded out of the room. 

“Is she all right?” Angus asked from the hallway.

“Aye, she is a sturdy lass,” Malcolm said, which pleased her no end.

She did not feel like a sturdy lass though.  Had Malcolm said the words to make her feel better?  No matter.  She appreciated them just the same.

“Mayhap we should stay here, milady, until the brigand or brigands are caught.”  Mai brushed Anice’s hair out with long, sweeping strokes.

Anice gave her an irritated look.  How could Mai say that when the king proved to be such a problem?

Mai said, “I know what you are thinking, milady, but there are worse dangers than him.”

“I am not afraid of going home.”

“Aye.”  Mai cleared her throat.  “You should not have kissed Laird MacNeill, milady.”

“You have said so already several times.  Did you know you are repeating yourself overmuch lately?  If I did not know better I would say you are getting old.”

 Mai chuckled.  “You may think to replace me with a younger lady.”

“Nay.  Sometimes I need be reminded of things.”

Mai cocked a brow.  “Aye, like you should not have kissed the Highlander.”

“No’ that thing.”

Mai shook her head.  “He is your steward, milady.  It would not bode well if ye were kissing him in the gardens back home.  The king has other marital plans for you.  They do not include marrying a stubborn Scotsman.”

“Think you I would be better off with a Norman laird, Mai?  Your husband was Scottish.”

“Aye, that is why anything else would be better, milady.”

Anice laughed, knowing Mai was teasing.  “Your husband was a good man.”

“Aye, especially good with bairn.”  Mai seemed to be saddened by the memory, having lost her own two children to sickness early on and then her husband on the Crusade.

Anice reached over and took hold of Mai’s hand and squeezed.  “Mayhap we need to find
you
a husband.”

Mai laughed until tears came to her eyes.

“I jest not.  It will be one of my first priorities when we return.”  Anice tried to lighten the darkness that surrounded them, not because most of the candles had been snuffed, but for the dangers that lay ahead.  Her lady-in-waiting exhibited signs of fear, of wishing to stay at Arundel, when it would not be safe for Anice.  She would rather face the dangers at home than hurt her cousin, if the king should want Anice’s favors and she refused once too often.

*  *  *

 Before the light dawned, Anice and her escort prayed in the chapel, then headed for their saddled horses.

Anice had said her goodbyes to her cousin earlier and the queen’s young daughter, Princess Matilda.  Anice watched Malcolm take charge and handle everything so smoothly.  Wouldn’t he be good for Brecken Castle?

Nay, he wished an Englishwoman for a bride, and when he learned Anice was cursed…she shook her head.  If he knew about the problem she’d had with earlier betrothals and her second sight, she’d be doomed.

Two of the king’s staff helped Anice and Mai onto their horses while Malcolm checked over his own mount.

Suddenly, he slapped his bag, and yanked out a piece of vellum as if he’d remembered an important document before they departed.  The breeze caught the missive, instantly tugging it from his grasp, and carried it halfway across the bailey.  Laird MacNeill dashed after it like a bounding youth after a pirate’s treasure.

The Highlander’s face grew livid as he chased the swirling paper.  Both of his brothers stood watching, too far away to be of any service.  Then the breeze shifted and the vellum landed in a washerwoman’s barrel of soapy water.  Had the woman been closer to the barrel she might have caught the paper, but she was hanging table linens to dry with her back turned.

Red-faced, Malcolm pulled the sopping wet document from the water and gingerly opened it up.  His lips moved, but Anice couldn’t decipher the words he mouthed.  As unhappy as he looked, she assumed the ink had bled on the paper.  But when he surveyed the area, and his gazed lighted on her, his expression was one of disbelief.  What now?

With haste, he returned to his brothers’ sides.  They both examined the vellum, and each gave her a glance mirroring Malcolm’s earlier look.  All three discussed the matter, then Malcolm motioned to Gunnolf, blond-haired and bearded, brilliant blue eyes, looking like one of the earlier Viking warriors who’d landed in Scotland earlier.  He was Malcolm’s closest manservant, Anice had learned, and took the vellum from his laird, then attempted to dry it.  Certain the message was about her staff at Brecken, Anice assumed the news was not good.

Malcolm did not speak a word to her while he ordered the servants to ready a wagon, gave last minute instructions to his brothers, and spoke with the king’s steward.

Mai grumbled to Anice, “’Tis not a problem for you to ride from your castle to His Grace’s to yours again.  My bones are getting stiff in my old age.”

Glad to take her mind off the missive, Anice faced her maid.  “I promise when we arrive home we will not go anywhere for a verra long time.”

“Aye, or mayhap another baron’s daughter can serve as your lady-in-waiting for travel.”

“’Twas you who insisted on coming with me when first the king summoned me.”

Malcolm’s countenance remained dark like the devil had hold of his thoughts.

“Just for travel mind you,” Mai added, as if she sensed trouble and tried to distract Anice.

“Laird MacNeill has said you may ride in the wagon, if it pleases you.”

Mai frowned at her.  “The infirmed and prisoners ride in wagons, milady.  I am neither.”

“Aye.”  Anice had given up on her stubborn lady-in-waiting years ago.

 Malcolm climbed into his saddle, his eyes again shifting to her, brooding, unfathomable.  “Are you ready, milady?” he asked, his voice deeper with a hint of distrust.

“Lead the way, milaird.”  Anice tried to act unperturbed.

With piercing intensity, Malcolm studied her.  Whatever was the matter now?

 He bowed his head to her, then motioned to Dougald to lead the way.  Angus brought up the rear, while Malcolm rode beside Anice.  To give them some privacy, Mai dropped back behind Anice, but walked her horse ahead of the wagon.