Scent of Scotland

by Mac Flynn

  Rune grasped the front edge of the desk and pressed his lips together, but he nodded. "Aye. The client is always given a choice. Within reason, that is."

  "Did your client happen to mention the target was a werewolf?" the lord wondered.

  A dark expression passed over the leader's face and his eyes narrowed. "She did not."

  "Then it was a woman?" Moray guessed.

  "Yes, though under the circumstances she is no longer a client," the leader commented. He walked around the desk and seated himself in his chair. The man pulled open a drawer on his left and pulled out several daggers so he could rummage through a filing of folders.

  "And why is she no longer a client?" Moray asked him.

  "Because she has broken her contract by not divulging that important bit of information," the leader informed us. He pulled out an envelope and tossed it onto the top of his desk. "That is her file, though what good you intend with it must be done quickly. I deal swiftly with traitorous clients."

  "I would rather you didn't attack her, nor even tell her of the change in circumstances," Moray requested.

  Rune leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. "You wish to reverse your roles?"

  "I wish to have justice done," Moray replied.

  Rune scoffed. "The only true justice is at the end of a knife."

  Moray tucked the envelope under his arm and pulled out a small leather bag. He dropped the bag onto the desk and it jingled with the sound of coins. "We are of differing opinions on that subject, but that is of little importance. The gold in the purse will surely cover any inconvenience you have in lying to her."

  Rune glanced at the bag and nodded. "It will."

  "And I and my own will no longer be attacked?" Moray questioned him.

  Rune bowed his head. "You have my word."

  "That means very little to me," Moray returned.

  "Then I will leave you with the knowledge that your manservant nearly killed four of my men, without counting the man I olst attacking you, and I hate to lose my men," Rune replied.

  Moray smiled and bowed his head. "I will accept that as a promise. Goodnight."

  Moray led me from that horrible dark room and out into the foggy streets. Our driver was relieved to see us, and soon we were carried away from the depths of the city. Moray removed the papers from the folder and perused their contents.

  "It is as we feared. Lady Stewart intended for me and another laird, the gentleman McKenna mentioned, to be murdered by Rune's men," Moray informed me.

  "There is one detail I do not understand with these attempts. The man, Rune, knew of werewolves, but he did not know you were one of them?" I wondered.

  "It is one of the cardinal rules of werewolves that we do not reveal ourselves to anyone outside of our houses," Moray explained. He slipped the papers back into the folder and looked out the window. "Now we must decide what's do be done with what we know."

  "Done? Should we not approach this council of which you have spoken and inform them of what we know?"

  He shook his head. "There is not enough evidence to indict the Stewarts, nor even Laird Robertson."

  My mouth dropped open. "Not enough evidence? With McKenna nearly beaten to death and our own lives ordered taken by that guild of assassins?"

  "We cannot prove the men who beat McKenna were in the employ of the laird and lady, nor will the testimony of assassins but of much help, even if we could convince Rune to agree to appear before the council," Moray pointed out.

  My shoulders slumped and I glared at the floor of the carriage. "There must be something."

  Moray wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pressed me softly against his side. His voice was soft and soothing. "We will find the answer, but let us rest on the matter, at least for the night."

  CHAPTER 39

  We returned to Cael's home and found our host waiting for us at the rear door. "Some day I wish to have a full day of you to myself," he teased as we stepped from the carriage.

  Moray assisted me down and shook his head. "I fear our stay here will not be much longer, but I hope to make another trip soon."

  Cael frowned. "Leaving already? With your man so sorely wounded?"

  "I will go up and see him presently," Moray commented. He clasped my hand and pulled me towards Cael. "In the meanwhile, will you escort my love to our room?"

  Cael took my hand, but his frown didn't disappear. "Kenneth, you know I would trust you with my life, but I fear you are in trouble that is far beyond your skill to handle."

  "Not yet, but when that time comes I will be sure to enlist what help I can," Moray promised. He bowed to us and hurried into the house.

  Cael sighed and turned his attention to me. "He is a stubborn mate, is he not?"

  I smiled. "You have known him longer than I."

  My words elicited a smile from my friend. "Aye, but your union with him will make me jealous. I imagine he has entrusted to you the whole of this trouble," he commented as he led me inside.

  "Perhaps," I teased.

  He sighed and shook his head. "I can see you two are made for each other. Well, all I can say is I wish you the best in this dangerous endeavor and hope you will entrust me with what you have learned before all the fun is over."

  "Perhaps," I returned.

  I went to bed alone, and I awoke alone. The other side did not appear to have been slept in, and when Irvette came in to help dress me she said as much.

  "The laird stayed in the other man's room for the whole night," she confirmed at my asking.

  "Is he still in there?" I wondered.

  She finished tying the last string and nodded. "Aye."

  We parted ways, and I went to McKenna's door. The entrance was shut, but I heard the faint sound of voices come from inside the room. I opened the door and took a step inside. Moray sat beside McKenna. I stepped back and made to leave, but McKenna turned his gaze on me. He beckoned to me, and Moray turned around to see to whom he summoned.

  "I hadn't meant to intrude," I apologize as I half-turned away from them. "I will leave if you wish."

  "I do not wish that," Moray replied. He stood and gestured to his chair. "Please be seated. There are important matters we need to discuss, and I would not have you be ignorant of their contents."

  I tilted my head to one side, but did as he bid and took a seat in his chair. Moray closed the door and fetched another chair which he set beside mine and occupied.

  "We were discussing all that had happened, and all that needed to happen," Moray informed me. "You are familiar with what happened, but less familiar with our future plans."

  I raised an eyebrow. "You would wish me to know them?" I wondered.

  Moray pursed his lips. "I would wish for you to return to the castle, but he-" Moray nodded at McKenna, "-he would wish for you to know."

  I looked to McKenna and blinked at him. "But why?"

  "Because you have a right to know," he insisted.

  I bit my lip and hung my head. "I. . .I am sorry I caused such suffering for you. If I had known Lady Stewart was such a woman I would have gladly informed you of the secret between us before you-well, before what happened happened."

  A small smile slipped onto McKenna's lips and he shook his head. "It is none of your doing."

  "He's right. The fault lies in those who mean to do us harm," Moray spoke up.

  I shook my head. "But I allowed her to fool me because I would not trust anyone. Not even my own mate."

  McKenna chuckled. "I must be to blame for that. I did steal you away," he reminded me.

  I managed a small smile. "I will give you credit for that."

  "If we are all finished with blaming ourselves and each other for past grievances, there are more important matters to attend to," Moray reminded us. He turned his attention to McKenna. "What do we know of our foes and their plans?"

  McKenna pulled out a pad of paper and pencil he had hidden beneath his sheets. "Their intentions are, as far as I can tell, to covet most of the ter
ritory owned by the werewolf lairds. If they succeed they would have little opposition within the council, as well, and would profit from controlling that body."

  "Profit how?" I wondered.

  "The council settles disputes among werewolves. If any were to bring a complaint against them the Stewarts would ensure the verdict would be in their favor," Moray pointed out.

  "They would also be the largest landholder in the country. Not even the king would own more property," McKenna added. "That would ensure some level of influence in human political affairs."

  "So how can we stop them from controlling so much?" I asked them.

  "We haven't enough evidence against them to present to the council. We must gather more," Moray commented.

  "Then what can we do? Wait for another attempt on our lives?" I guessed.

  Moray shook his head. "Far from it. I propose we venture into the dragon's domain and steal away their treasure."

  I blinked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

  "We will invite ourselves to the Stewart's estate and find what evidence they have hidden there," Moray rephrased.

  "To their estate? To the home of those who would kill us?" I reminded him.

  "Our leads in Edinburgh have run cold. We will find nothing more here," the lord pointed out. "As it is, if a murder or accident were to occur to us at their home then an inquiry would take place, and they would not wish for such attention."

  "But an inquiry would be far too late for the victim," I countered.

  "We will have to rely on their being prudent, and judging by their actions up to this point we can assume they are very prudent," Moray commented.

  I gestured to McKenna. "What of McKenna? Was the attack on his person prudent?"

  "She has a point," McKenna spoke up as he shifted on the bed. "It would be dangerous to venture into the dragon's lair."

  "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Moray argued. He glanced between McKenna and me. "However, if neither of you wish to accompany me then I would not cast blame on your decision."

  I frowned and grasped his arm. "If you believe you can leave me behind to care for McKenna then you are sorely mistaken."

  McKenna chuckled. "I need no caring." He rolled up his sleeve and revealed clean, unbruised flesh.

  I glanced between the healthy arm and its owner's face. "Then why-?"

  "To fool our enemies into believing my injuries are far worse. The trick has worked once before," McKenna explained.

  "And freeing him to continue his explorations when we have left," Moray added.

  "Then you will take me with you?" I asked him.

  Moray smiled and studied me. "Do you wish to go? I will not lie to you and tell you there is no risk. If our purpose in going is found out then we may well find ourselves in serious danger."

  I snorted. "Then I would be in no greater danger than what I have experienced here."

  Moray clasped my hand in his and planted a soft kiss on the back of my hand. "You are as brave as you are beautiful."

  I blushed, but rubbed my cheeks free of the embarrassing emotion. "That's all very well, but you have not told me the most important detail."

  He lowered my hand and raised an eyebrow. "And what is that?"

  "When do we leave?"

  He smiled and chuckled. "Are you so very eager for another adventure?"

  "I would have this one finished, and before we are finished," I countered.

  "Then we shall leave on the morrow. Cael will sorely miss us, but I feel we may see him again very soon," Moray commented.

  And thus began the end of our adventure, but little did I know what lay in store in the coming days.

  CHAPTER 40

  My life these last few weeks had been filled with more adventure and excitement than I ever dared dream, or feared, but I felt the time was coming when the daring portion of my life would come to an end. There was little to of such a thing from the view outside the carriage window.

  Lord Moray, my husband and mate, and I were seated inside his carriage, and through the windows we glimpsed a passing countryside covered in soft, white snow. Winter was now fully upon the land of Scotland. The trees were ghostly images of their green selves, and the roads were either encased in ice or mixed the brown mud with the pure snow. The weak sun behind the gray clouds would set in three hours and bring night in its stead.

  Though I was wrapped in many coverings of blankets and skins, the chill in the air made me shudder. Moray, or Ken, as I had come to call him, wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to his side. I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed.

  "Is it much farther?" I asked him.

  He chuckled. I found the sound both vexing and adorable. "Not very far."

  "How far are we from Edinburgh?" I wondered.

  "I would say we are a fifty miles," he told me.

  "It is a wonder they have so much influence to murder us from such a distance," I commented.

  Ken's voice took on a more serious tone. "Influence travels as far as money allows, and the Laird and Lady Stewart have a great deal of wealth."

  It was to their home that we traveled on such a wintry day, and had for two dreary days. We had bidden our farewells to our friend, Caelan MacLain, and Ken's servant, McKenna six days before. Our plan was to ingratiate ourselves into the household of the very people who sought to kill Ken for his wealth, and see what might come for proving their sins to the rest of the world.

  "Is their wealth as great as yours?" I asked him.

  He shook his head. "No. If it was I question whether they would have sought money so viciously."

  "But not foolishly," I pointed out.

  Ken leaned back against the cushioned leather and sighed. "No. They have not often been imprudent. We will be hard put to prove to the council our knowledge, but they may be more careless in their own domain, surrounded as they are by loyal servants."

  "And if we do not play our parts well, and arouse their suspicion?" I wondered.

  He stared ahead and pursed his lips. "Then I hope God will be on our side."

  I shuddered. This was no mere matter of facing those who wished our deaths and forcing a confession. Ken glanced down at me and smiled.

  "You needn't fear your acting skills too much," he assured me.

  "I wish I had your faith in my abilities," I returned.

  "It will merely be a matter of forsaking your love for me," he teased.

  I frowned at him. "No easy matter when you stare at me so."

  "Would you rather I glare?" he suggested.

  "I would rather McKenna were in my place," I told him.

  "Would you leave your mate to face death alone?" he pointed out.

  I sighed and shook my head. "No, but must death be so terrifying?"

  "You need only use that fear and channel it into your words against me," he instructed me.

  I opened my mouth to speak more of my doubts, but the carriage slowed. Ken released me and leaned out the window. His eyebrows crashed down.

  "What is the matter?" I asked him.

  "It seems we have arrived."

  I joined him at the window for my first glimpse of the abode of the Lord and Lady Stewart. Their abode was a large, square stone house with four floors. The front of the house was covered by a tall portico of columns that ended on either side with granite stairs. The grounds around the house were a myriad of circular garden beds that bordered both the home and the short gravel driveway. A small stable sat to the right of the house and abutted the driveway. Behind the house and to its left was a small, dark woods, and beyond that were many open fields punctuated by the occasional stone wall or wooden fence.

  The right side of the grounds was fields for a short distance before the grass grew more wild and rocky. The ground disappeared over rounded hills, and only reappeared as crags of stone and wild grass in the distance. I studied the wilderness for a while before I shuddered and turned away.

  "The moors have a strange aura around them," Ken
commented.

  I glanced from the wilderness to him. "Is that what those are?"

  He grimly nodded. "Aye. I would ask that you not venture onto them without me present. The fog from them can lead on to be lost, and there are other dangers."

  I was unable to ask what dangers before the carriage sidled up to the staircase on the left. Ken helped me out as our hosts hurried from the centered from doors. They strode across the portico and stopped at the head of the stairs.

  "Laird Moray!" Lord Stewart exclaimed.

  Ken smiled and bowed at the waist to him. "Good evening, my laird."

  "Moray, you rascal!" the lady scolded him as she hurried down the steps. She flew into his arms and tilted her head back to smile at him. "What has brought you to our doorstep?"

  "A visit, if we may be so bold as to request one," he explained.

  "A visit? You did not write that you wished for one," Lord Stewart commented as he came up behind his wife.

  Ken released the lady and bowed his head. "I am sorry. To be perfectly honest, it was my wife who demanded we come."

  All eyes fell on me, and I fidgeted beneath such intense attention. "I am afraid it is true. I did wish to see Lady Stewart once more."

  "How sweet of you to miss me so!" the lady cooed as she enveloped me in a tight hug that showed off a hint of her werewolf strength. "She pulled me to arm's length and looked me over. "And what a wonderful dress. Wherever did you find such beautiful fabric?"

  "We have only just come from Edinburgh," Ken told her.

  Lady Stewart wrinkled her nose. "Edinburgh is such a dirty city. I would much prefer the country."

  "Except when you wish for new clothes yourself," her husband spoke up.

  She shot him a glare that informed me the pretended animosity show would still be performed. I had to admit their act was very impressive, and believable.

  "A lady must have fine dresses if her friends and acquaintances have fine things," the lady snapped at him.

  Lord Stewart pursed his lips and frowned down his nose at her. "I only wish women were not such damn fools for such expensive fineries."

  Lady Stewart took my hand in her own and tugged me towards the steps. "And I wish men would not be so ignorant of the importance of status in clothes."

  We swept past the men, but not before I caught the lord's response.

  "Why did we ever get married, my laird?" he asked Ken.

  "A question many men have asked them," Ken returned.

  Lady Stewart led me down the portico to the open front doors. I was swept into the lobby, a large, portrait-filled entrance with a few old tapestries, and up the stairs on the left to the second floor.