A Spy at the Highland Court

by Barclay, Celeste

  “The day after. Lord Dedric has patrols he needs to set. He is to depart immediately according to the king’s wishes.”

  “I will leave once I am certain Isa is settled.” Ric sat back and crossed his arms, daring Patrick to challenge him. Denying Ric would only make his father-by-marriage look worse.

  After his exchange with Isa’s parents, Ric felt like he needed a rest just as much as Isa. He made his way back to his chamber, but he found the room empty. He looked around, but the fresh kirtle Isa had laid out before he left to find her father was gone, and so were the slippers she intended to exchange for her riding boots. Ric walked to the landing and was prepared to take the stairs to the Great Hall, when he saw a flash of white-blonde hair and then heard Isa’s laugh. He leaned to see who she talked to, and it stunned him to see her in the arms of another man. This man was of a similar build and size to Ric, but had sandy blond hair and a dimple Ric could see from across the room. His wife was still clinging to the man but animatedly chatting with him. It was the mystery man who Ric watched squeeze her waist and nod in Ric’s direction. Isa spun around and beamed at Ric. There was no remorse or guilt for being found in another man’s embrace. Ric was certain he would see stars, the blood pounded so hard in his temples. His vision tunneled as all he could take in was his wife with another man. He stalked forward but was unprepared for Isa to dash back to him and grab his hand to tow him behind her.

  “Ric, I’m so glad you found me. I was just about to go look for you. It worried me that it might alarm when you didn’t find me in our chamber,” Isa yammered as Ric’s eyes narrowed as they approached the man who stood watching them. Ric could see he was a strikingly good-looking man, and his temper flared even more. “Ric, this is my cousin, Alasdair. I haven’t seen him in years.”

  Isa’s smiled slipped when neither man extended an arm in greeting. Instead they seemed to be sizing one another up, as though they were waiting for a chance to pounce.

  “Alasdair, I’d like you to meet my husband, Sir Dedric Hage.” Isa unthinkingly wrapped her arm around Ric’s and slid her hand into his, but when his fingers remained stiff instead of gripping her hand like he usually did, she looked up to see her husband was genuinely angry. She looked back at Alasdair and caught him smirking. “Ric, Alasdair and I grew up together. He’s only a couple of months older than I am. We did everything together until he entered the lists and I was sent to court. It’s been at least four years since we’ve seen each other. He was more like a brother than a cousin.”

  Isa looked between the men again. Ric’s temper had not cooled, and Alasdair’s arrogance had only increased. Isa was beginning to panic. She had hoped they would like one another upon meeting, and she would have family along with her husband at her new home.

  “I’m your new captain of the guard,” Alasdair finally spoke up.

  “I already have one. The king’s orders,” Ric growled.

  “That man is to be captain when you ride out. My uncle has appointed me captain of the guard to defend the keep.”

  Isa looked up at Ric, and he finally looked down at her. He saw panic in her eyes as she shook her head.

  “I didn’t know,” she mouthed. “I’m sorry.”

  Isa was not sure what she was apologizing for, but she suspected she had caused a rift between her and Ric and created a disaster of an introduction between Ric and Alasdair.

  “Alasdair, I’m sure you’d like to get settled, and I planned to take Ric on a tour of the bailey and keep.”

  “I have little with me to settle. Perhaps you’d like a second tour guide since I’ve been here as often as you, if not more.”

  “No.” Isa’s tone made both men look down at her. “I haven’t seen Ric for most of the afternoon as he was locked away with my parents, and I was resting. I’d like the time with my husband. I missed his company.”

  “While you rested?” Alasdair raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes. Particularly while I rested.” Isa raised an eyebrow in return.

  “Bella,” Alasdair hissed as his cheeks reddened.

  “You need not pretend innocence for me. I’m married now. And it’s Isa.”

  She looked up at Ric, pleading with her eyes that he agree to go with her and not reject her in front of her cousin. Ric nodded, and it was his turn to smirk at Alasdair as Isa led them toward the doors to the bailey. When they stepped outside, they both needed a moment for their eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. Once they descended the steps, Isa practically dragged Ric to a storeroom across from the kitchens. She pushed the door open and pulled Ric inside. Once the door was closed, she fell against Ric and burst into tears. Ric had no idea what to make of Isa’s sudden shift in mood. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, and when his hold tightened, she cried harder, trying to burrow into his chest.

  “I’m sorry, Ric. I don’t know what I’ve done, but I ruined your introduction to my cousin. I’d hoped you two would make friends. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t cry, my sweet.” Ric tucked hair behind her ear and tried to lift her chin, but she shook her head and once more tried to burrow closer. Ric looked around and found a chair near a table covered in bags of what looked like flour. He led Isa to it and sat down before pulling her onto his lap. “Isa, don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart, and I don’t know what to do to make you smile again.”

  Ric kissed her forehead as she wiped her eyes.

  “And I don’t know why you’re so angry at me. But I didn’t mean it. Whatever it was. I didn’t.”

  “I was jealous, Isa.” Ric knew he had to confess or his wife would not cease feeling guilty. “I saw you run past the stairs and then you were in another man’s arms. I didn’t know he was your family. I just saw my wife with another man.”

  Isa used her sleeve to wipe her eyes and dab her nose before placing both hands on Ric’s jaw.

  “Don’t you understand? I’ve never wanted anyone but you, my heart.” Isa’s hushed tones soothed Ric’s nerves, and the term of affection was one he had not heard since the day they married. He craved hearing it more often.

  “That’s good to hear because I will never share you.”

  Isa opened her mouth to ask if she could say the same but snapped it firmly shut. She knew she had no right to ask such a thing of her husband.

  “Isa, you can ask. You deserve to know, to be reminded, that I will not stray.”

  She nodded and raised her chin. “Kiss.” The one word was all either of them needed. It was one of their tender exchanges of emotions neither was willing to speak aloud.

  They sat together for a long time, enjoying the silence and one another’s company. When they heard voices approaching the door, they knew they could not hide any longer. Isa took him on a tour that showed him the smithy, the stables, the areas where the laundresses hung the clean linens, the ovens used in summer to bake bread, and the chicken coop. She pointed out the postern gate and explained there was a paddock on the other side as well as a path to the loch. She offered to show him, but Ric pointed out that the servants would serve the evening meal soon. Isa promised to include it in the rest of the tour the next day.

  The evening meal was more lighthearted than the last time Ric sat at the dais. He and Alasdair made proper introductions. When Isa turned away to speak to her mother, Alasdair leaned in to Ric.

  “Good. It’s good to see you’re jealous, and not the type who looks at Isa as a possession. It means you care about my cousin. Fail her and she comes to any harm, I will kill you.”

  Alasdair leaned away and was ready to step away, but Ric squeezed the forearm he still held from their warrior handshake.

  “Fail to keep her safe while I am away, and I will disembowel you while you still breathe.”

  The men nodded at one another before smiling. Isa turned back around in time to see a truce develop between the two men she cared for most.

  By the time the meal ended, Ric had been most solicitous and ensured she had the best pieces of all the foods serv
ed. His arm rested against hers throughout the meal, and his hand lay on her thigh beneath the tablecloth. He had inched her skirts up, and when Isa realized what he was about, she helped gather the material. The feel of his bare hand against her bare thigh had them both shifting. They excused themselves and practically raced up the stairs.

  The next day went quickly for both of them as Isa finished Ric’s tour before meeting with her mother, the housekeeper, and the head cook. Ric went out to the lists with Alasdair and met the men King Robert had charged him to lead. He found the warriors were well trained and prepared for any attack that might be made against the castle. He inspected the walls and battlements before looking through all the weapons in the armory. Isa had briefly introduced him to the blacksmith, but he returned to speak with the man about his skills and experience. It impressed him to find the man made and repaired all the weapons and horseshoes as well as all the metal cookware for the kitchens with no apprentice or assistant. He decided he would send Robbie to help the man, since he had experience with maintaining both Ric’s armor and weapons, as well as caring for their mounts.

  Ric barely saw Isa until the evening meal, which went much like the night before. They ate with Ric’s hand on her bare thigh, but Isa had covered his hand with hers and slid it much higher. She was nervous about being so forward, but the predatory look in Ric’s eyes made her feel desirable and reassured her that Ric did not mind where she placed his hand. She placed her hand on his thigh but was about to snatch it away when Ric sucked in a whistling breath.

  “Leave it,” he muttered.

  Isa did as she was told until neither of them could sit without squirming. They left the dais before they served the final course, once again racing up the stairs.

  The second morning dawned, and Isa stood with Ric on the steps to the bailey as they bid her parents goodbye. As her parents rode out through the gates, people from the village filtered in for market day. Isa squinted and tilted her head, sure she recognized one of the women as the beautiful English one who had appeared at Robert’s court around the same time as Ric. She knew they had a past together, but she could not understand why she would be at Barsalloch, so she chalked it up to her imagination. Isa kissed Ric goodbye before he and Alasdair went to the lists. She spent the rest of the day working on the household accounts, which she and her mother discovered were in complete disarray.

  The third morning brought rain and Ric having to say goodbye to Isa.

  “I hope to be back within a week, my sweet. I need to survey the land which I now defend. I must see it from more than just the border.”

  “I know. I just ask that you be careful. Between the weather and the border reivers and the English, you have much to keep an eye open for.”

  “I will because I’m already impatient to return to you. Are you sure you will be well here?”

  Isa nodded. She looked out at the people scurrying through the bailey and then back at Ric.

  “Alasdair will be here, and I have plenty to keep me occupied while you’re away. There are several improvements within the Great Hall that I would like to make, and a number of storage rooms that have not been properly maintained. The time shall fly by.”

  Neither of them believed that, but Isa tried not to let her anxiousness show. Ric picked her up off her feet and kissed her much the way Magnus had kissed Deirdre, Edward had kissed Elizabeth, and exactly how Tavish had kissed Ceit. Alasdair cleared his throat several times, but neither of them was willing to be rushed.

  Isa stood upon the steps alone as she watched Ric ride out of the gate. He turned back twice, and she waved each time. She pushed her wet hair away from her eyes, certain she saw the woman from the day before on one of the warriors’ horses. She frowned but assumed the man knew her. Perhaps she was his wife, and he would return her to the village to avoid walking in the rain. When the line of twenty horsemen disappeared over the hill, Isa returned to the keep.

  Chapter Twenty

  The week Ric anticipated being gone stretched first into a fortnight, then into nearly three weeks before the signal went up that the chieftain was returning. The sun had just set, and the sky was already dark. Isa called out for a bath to be prepared in her chamber before she took one of the torches from a wall sconce and rushed outside. She held the flame out high as she tried to make out the figures as they rode through the gate. Ric was seated on MacLellan and led the party into the bailey. Isa felt a bubble of excitement well within her chest, but she knew he would be cold and exhausted. She wanted to hurtle toward him and smother him in kisses, but she did not know what type of mood he would be in after sleeping outside for the better part of three weeks.

  As the last of the men rode through the portcullis, Isa once again squinted at a figure on one of the horses. It was most certainly the woman from when Ric departed, and this time she rode her own horse. A knot formed in Isa’s belly as she looked back at her husband who was already jumping down from his horse. He tossed his reins to Robbie and took the keep steps three at a time until he reached Isa. He swept her into his embrace and brought his mouth down to hers with need and hunger she gladly matched. Alasdair stepped forward and took the torch before Isa dropped it or lit them on fire. Once she had both hands free, she wrapped her arms around Ric’s neck. He lifted her off her feet just as he had when he departed, and the kiss once more made people turn away.

  “Need you,” he mumbled against her neck. “Now.”

  “Yes,” she moaned into his ear.

  Ric looked at Alasdair long enough to bark, “Open the bloody door.” He cradled Isa in his arms as he marched across the Great Hall. Neither of them noticed the clan members who stared at their chief and lady as he took the stairs three at a time just like outside. More than one person jumped at the sound of their chamber door slamming shut. Alasdair had followed them inside and just shrugged. While they were not seen until morning, they were easily heard.

  Ric was only home for three days before he had to ride out again. During his time at the keep, he was virtually inseparable from Isa. He followed her around as she explained how she had kept busy. They were together in Ric’s study where Isa resumed her research, her belongings having arrived from the royal castle while Ric was gone. While she poured over books and looked through vellums, Ric caught up on the clan matters that had accumulated in his absence. There was a list of complaints he would need to adjudicate when he returned the next time, and he needed to speak with the village farmers about the spring crops. There did not seem to be nearly enough time to spend on his duties or with Isa.

  On the night before Ric was set to depart again, they lay tangled together among the bedsheets. Ric rubbed his thumb over the wedding band he had slipped onto Isa’s finger more than a month earlier. He was surprised to realize so much time had elapsed, but then he remembered he had been away for most of it. He pledged to make it up to her when he returned from his next patrol. He did not want to tell Isa where he would be going, but he owed her the truth.

  “Isa, I hate being away from you even for a morning let alone days and weeks. I wish this were a time when I could travel freely with you and not fear for you. I want you to know that I don’t like leaving you.”

  “I never thought that you did, but this was the price we both had to pay.”

  “But I believe I got the better part of the deal.” Ric kissed her knuckle just past the band with the deep emerald that matched her eyes.

  “I have no complaints.” Isa pressed Ric onto his back as she climbed onto him and guided his length into her.

  Her moan signaled they were finished talking until the sun rose the next morning.

  Isa’s life began to take on a pattern. Ric’s second patrol kept him away for over a month, while the third and fourth were considered short at a fortnight each. After that, she stopped keeping track. She oversaw the scrubbing of all the surfaces in the Great Hall that could be reached by a ladder or rod. She ordered the kitchen fires be extinguished, and the flues swept clean. She
had the tapestries removed and beaten before airing them out. She looked through the attic and found furniture under sheets and more tapestries. She tugged down several and brought them to the chamber she and Ric moved into after her parents departed.

  She gave up trying to take Bridei out for rides when Alasdair informed her that she could not go beyond the village without Ric beside her. Since he was never there, she never went anywhere. Alasdair and ten guards accompanied her whenever she left the castle wall to go to the village. She had looked for the mystery woman each time she went to the village but never saw her. She only appeared when Ric was leaving or returning. She tried not to think about why the woman traveled with her husband, but the sickening feeling ate at her. When Ric was home, he was devoted to her to the point where she sometimes had to ask for space. He did not act like a man who was disinterested in his wife, but then she reminded herself that he was away more than he was home. Perhaps he did not like to be lonely while traveling. That thought made her dash to a chamber pot more than once.

  Ric’s time at home was occupied with making love and their regular duties. There had been little time to talk about anything that was happening beyond the immediate, and they never spoke of their feelings, preferring to show them rather than articulate them. Isa knew she was in love with Ric, but she wondered how she could love a man who might prefer the company of his mistress to her own.

  They had been married for nearly five months when Isa noticed an open missive on Ric’s desk as she spread out the parchments she had been transcribing from Gaelic to French. Ric told her from the beginning that she was to use his desk or the table in his study any time she wanted. The handwriting on the missive was decidedly feminine, and it was addressed to “Ric” rather than Sir Dedric or even Sir Ric. Her stomach ached and hand shook as she picked it up. She had to read it twice to believe what she saw.