Scent of Scotland

by Mac Flynn

  Ken pursed his lips and shook his head. "No. All our efforts will be for naught if we cannot provide evidence of their plan."

  "But what of the vials given by Lady Stewart? We could show everyone it is poison," I suggested.

  "What guarantee do we have that she provided all others with the vials?" he pointed out.

  My heart sank, and I shook my head. "There is no guarantee, but why then would she have given me the one?"

  "Perhaps she thought to have me poisoned earlier than the rest, but for the others she may have planned this hunt in advance to pass out the vials," he suggested.

  I tensed and I clasped my hands tightly in my lap. "There must be something we can do."

  Ken stood and paced the wooden boards with his hands clasped behind his back. "I have thought of one ploy, but it relies on outside help that may not cooperate."

  "Then what are we to do?" I asked him.

  "A moment. Let me think," he pleaded.

  He glared at the floor in deep thought for several minutes while I waited impatiently for an answer. After that time elapsed he paused, and his eyes brightened. A small smile curved onto his lips.

  "This may now be to our advantage," he commented.

  I raised an eyebrow. "How?"

  "Your suggestion to reveal the poison plot is not wholly without bearing," he commented.

  I glared at him. "As far as I have heard it is the only plan we have formed."

  "Not quite. What I propose is for you to ingratiate yourself with the ladies and find out if they have been given the vials," he requested.

  "And if they have?" I wondered.

  "Then our proof is in their hands, and we need only inform them of the contents and all will be revealed," he finished.

  "And if they do not have the vials?" I returned.

  "Then our efforts this day will hopefully bear the fruit we wish to pick, but come." He strode over to me and offered me his hand. "We have wasted time enough. Let us to the carriage house."

  I blinked, but took his hand and allowed him to pull me to my feet. "The carriage house?"

  Ken pulled me down the steps and onto the path. "I have a task to give to Malcolm, and we haven't a moment to lose."

  CHAPTER 45

  We hurried down the path and skirted the house to the carriage house. The building was tall and smelled of sweet hay that was piled high in the peeked roof above the stalls. Our carriage stood to one side, and nearby stables held the four fine horses owned by Ken. Malcolm sat on a block of wood beside a pile of wood used to feed the pot-belly stove in one corner of the building. At our entering he jumped to his feet and put down his plate of food.

  "Good morning, my laird. My lady," he greeted us with a bow.

  "Malcolm, I have a great favor to ask you," Ken told him.

  "Anything you wish, my laird," he offered.

  "Do you believe you can deliver a message to Edinburgh within twenty-four hours?" he asked him.

  Malcolm furrowed his brow. "I believe I can, my laird, but-"

  "It is of the utmost urgency that you deliver a message to McKenna where he still resides at Cael's home," Ken explained. My mate pulled out a small pad of paper and pencil from his coat, and scribbled a few hurried words. He folded the paper and held it out to Malcolm. "This must be given only to McKenna. Do you understand?"

  Malcolm took the paper and bowed his head. "I do, my laird, and I shan't fail you."

  "You will need money," Ken added as he pulled a small bag that jingled with coins from his coat. "This will cover your expenses. Now how soon can you leave?"

  "This moment. I need only saddle a horse," Malcolm replied.

  "Then finish your foot, and I will saddle the beast," Ken offered.

  "You're very kind, my laird," Malcolm complimented as he took up his plate and proceeded to eat with relish.

  Ken hurried to saddle the fastest of the four horses. I followed him to the door of the stable as he placed the blanket and then saddle on the beast.

  "What is-"

  "I will explain in time," he promised as he busied himself with his task.

  Malcolm finished his meal and readied himself for the journey with a heavy coat and skins thrown over the back of the saddle. The servant climbed atop the horse and tucked the note into his breast pocket. Ken came up beside the horse and held out the reins.

  "Whatever you do, don't stop for anyone, nor tell them your task," he commanded his servant.

  Malcolm's expression was grave as he bowed his head. "As you wish, my laird."

  "Good. Now go off, and God be with you," Ken blessed him.

  The carriage house doors were opened and Malcolm shot out of them as though the Devil himself was on his heels. The hooves of the horse kicked up snow and dirt alike as they flew down the lane. In a few moments both disappeared into the distance. Ken closed the doors and turned to look where I stood near Malcolm's empty plate.

  "Let us hope our foes do not have the roads watched in preparation for their visitors," Ken commented.

  "What did you write in the note to McKenna?" I asked him.

  "I instructed him to send a letter in Lady Stewart's handwriting to our old acquaintance, Laird Robertson," he revealed.

  I tilted my head to one side and furrowed my brow. "But why would you do such a thing?"

  "Because I wish for all the associated parties to be present, not merely the proposed victims," he told me.

  "But what purpose will that serve but to place us against more of our foes?" I pointed out.

  He nodded. "Aye, they will be together, but I judge that they have kept themselves apart to avert suspicion from each other. This will bring them together when they least wish to be."

  "And how will McKenna write such a letter?" I wondered.

  Ken chuckled. "McKenna has an interesting skill in being able to mimic the handwriting of any person. Of course, after he has seen an example. He can even imitate mine, if he desired to commit fraud against me."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Where did you find this man?"

  "That is an interesting story, if you feel we have the time for it," Ken commented.

  My eyes flickered to the closed doors. "Do you believe we are constantly watched?"

  "Not as constantly as they wish us to be, as Lady Stewart is well aware of my keen eyes and noise," Ken assured me.

  "Is there any way I might know if I'm watched?" I asked him.

  He shook his head. "It is doubtful. Their servants are as quiet as Church mice, and twice as cunning."

  My face fell. "Then alone I can get no peace."

  Ken strode over to me and clasped my hands in his. He gazed into my eyes with a searching look. "Only if you were to consent to become my wolf bride."

  I cringed from such a suggestion. "Is. . .is it painful?"

  He smiled and shook his head. "Quite the contrary. As I told you before, it is merely a passing of blood from a werewolf to a willing human, and the deed is done."

  I took a deep breath and met his gaze with my own firm one. "Then I accept your offer."

  I expected his expression to brighten, but instead a dark cloud slipped onto his brow. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

  "I cannot."

  I started back. "What? But why not?"

  "Because you would no longer be a human easily controlled by Lady Stewart," he pointed out. "She seeks those who are unwilling mates. If you were to accept my offer and become a werewolf then she would banish you from her confidence and we would be at a great disadvantage."

  "Would she know I was changed?" I asked him.

  He gave a nod. "Immediately. Your scent will have changed."

  My face fell. "Then I must remain without defense?"

  A smile slipped onto my mate's lips and he shook his head. "No. I will be by your side, and the note Malcolm carries with him orders McKenna to summon all of my close friends to the Stewart estate, so you see we will not be outnumbered by our foes."

  My eyes widened. "Who will come?"r />
  He shook his head. "I cannot say. That is for McKenna's discretion. He knows human nature better than even I."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Where did you find this werewolf?"

  "And that brings us full circle to my promise to tell you of our story," Ken reminded me. He guided me over to a short bail of straw and, throwing his coat over the thorny seat, we seated ourselves. My mate cleared his throat. "I am sure Mrs. Greer told you I was away from the estate several years after my father's death, and returned with McKenna."

  I nodded. "She did."

  "I traveled extensively over Scotland, and even the northern counties of England. It was in one of those northern counties that I encountered McKenna. You see, he was about to be hanged."

  I gasped. "Hanged?"

  Ken chuckled. "Aye. He was a thief by profession, and aided by his werewolf abilities he was quite proficient in his chosen work. That is how he knows the art of forgery, for sometimes he passed off forged banknotes. Unfortunately, he erred in robbing a house and found himself at the mercy of the servants of another werewolf laird, this one English. My purpose in coming to that particular estate was to make the acquaintance of the laird, and I found myself the savior of this most unsavory man."

  "Was McKenna so terrible?" I wondered.

  "He was without shame, and men such as that are very dangerous. However, he had some honor, and when I offered a heavy price in exchange for his life, he was grateful to me for the saving," Ken told me.

  "And you traveled together ever afterward?" I guessed.

  He chuckled. "No. McKenna escaped me the first chance he had."

  I frowned. "How ungrateful!"

  Ken's eyes studied me with a teasing light. "Aye, it is strange how people wish to escape situations before they have full realized them."

  I blushed and looked down at my lap. "My situation was different. . ." I murmured.

  "Well, to make a long story short-"

  "Too late," I teased.

  "-I tracked him down, for he was at that time not very proficient at hiding his tracks from other werewolves, and convinced him to remain with me for longer than a day. He agreed, and I have made use of his skills ever since."

  I stared at the ground and furrowed my brow. "I would never have thought McKenna was such a villain."

  "You can never be sure of someone's true face, or masks that they have worn in the past," Ken philosophized as he stood. He offered me his hand and smiled down at me. "But we should return to the house. They will wonder where we have gone, and I would rather they not know of Malcolm's disappearance until he is nearly at Edinburgh."

  I took his hand and he helped me to my feet. "But what are we to do in the meantime?"

  He looped my arm through his and guided me to the doors. "We will bide our time and pray for our victory."

  CHAPTER 46

  The remainder of the day was uneventful, but the day after found the house astir. The lords and ladies invited by Lady Stewart began to arrive. Carriages large and small rolled up the lane to the portico where we awaited their coming with our hosts. Lady Stewart was all smiles as she whisked down the steps to the vehicles as they stopped before the home.

  "Welcome! Welcome!" she greeted them with open arms.

  The women were hugged and the men were curtsied. Many of the men were gentlemen of Ken's age, not varying more than a decade in either direction. Their mates were close in age to them, never more than a five year difference.

  One young couple in particular caught my attention. They arrived in a small carriage with but two horses, and the cloth of their attire was not so fine as others. The gentleman was perhaps twenty-five, and the young woman couldn't have been older than eighteen. The young woman's nervous eyes flitted from unfamiliar face to unfamiliar face, and she clung to her husband's arm with a strong grip.

  Lady Stewart flitted to them and made them welcome. "Lady Cameron! Laird Cameron! What a pleasure to see you!" she told them.

  The young man bowed at the waist. "It is a pleasure and an honor to be welcomed to your home, my lady."

  Lady Stewart laughed and waved her hand. "No high formalities, if you please! I am sick to death of them! Merely consider my home your own and let us have some fun!"

  The young Lady Cameron's searching eyes fell on me. I offered her a pleasant smile, and she returned it with a shy one.

  Ken and I stood apart from the chattering groups so our conversation was not readily heard by anyone.

  "She may perhaps be a good friend," Ken whispered to me.

  My eyes flickered up to his face, but he stared straight ahead. "How so?"

  "I know the history of the young couple. Their union is hardly older than ourselves, and the young woman was taken from her family farm to be his bride," he explained. "She may be considered an unwilling mate, but she has loyalty in her eyes that Lady Stewart, deceitful as she is, may not recognize."

  "What do you propose we do?" I asked him.

  "Make her close acquaintance and see if she does not hold a vial herself," he suggested.

  Our conversation was interrupted when the merry party, now twenty in number, strode up the steps to where we waited on the portico. Lady Stewart, at the head of the group, swept over to us.

  "My laird and lady, surely you don't intend to stand there so stupidly and ruin such a gay atmosphere," she scolded us.

  "We wished to bask in your splendor and glee from afar," Ken teased her.

  She laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "What an imp you are, my laird! But come! Let me sweep away your young bride to introduce her to the ladies, and you may reign over the men as you please."

  Ken smiled and bowed. "As you wish, my lady."

  He cast one final, pointed glance at me before he joined the throng of men behind Lady Stewart. The women gathered as moths to a flame around us. With such wide dresses there was hardly room to breath.

  "Come inside, my ladies, before one of us is forced off this narrow portico!" Lady Stewart invited them.

  They laughed and followed her ladyship inside. Lady Cameron followed behind the group so I had little difficulty in procuring a spot beside her.

  "I am Lady Abigail Moray," I introduced myself.

  She smiled and bowed her head. "I am Elisa-that is, I am Lady Elisa Cameron."

  "You have not long been a lady?" I guessed, not withstanding what Ken had told me. It would be better to feign ignorance than to cause alarm to my new young acquaintance.

  She blushed and her eyes followed the ground. "Hardly more than three months," she admitted.

  "Then you have me beaten. I have been a lady only about a month," I told her.

  She glanced up and blinked. "Only a month? How did your husband come upon you?"

  "Through an advertising service, though at the time I called it a trap," I replied.

  Elisa tilted her head to one side and blinked at me. "I don't follow.

  I laughed and looped my arm through hers. "I am what you would call a reluctant wife. Lord Moray had his agents sweep me away from my home and land me in this new life as a lady."

  She spoke in an excited, clipped tone. "Then you were stolen away, too?"

  I nodded. "Yes, from London. Where do you hail from?"

  "From the Western Isles," she told me.

  "I have never been so far west. Is it beautiful there?" I asked her.

  Her face lit up and she nodded with alacrity. "Aye! The flowers bloom so beautifully in the spring, and the whole of the hillsides are covered. The fish swim freely in the streams, and on warm summer days one can swim at the points where the water is warmest."

  "Have you returned there since your marriage?" I wondered.

  Her face fell and she returned her eyes to the floor. Our little group followed Lady Stewart into the front parlor and many of them took their seats. The room was soon warm with our little group of gossiping women.

  "No, and I miss it so. . ." she murmured.

  "Ladies, I needn't tell you how glad I am to see
so many of you here so soon!" Lady Stewart called over the chatter.

  "I was glad for a reprieve," one of the women spoke up. Her accent told me she was English like myself. "The winter months in Scotland are always so dreary."

  "So are the husbands," another replied. A great laugh came up from the women.

  Lady Stewart smiled, but put a finger to her lips. "Do not be so loud in your insults, my ladies, for you never know when our husbands may be listening."

  "Let them listen," crowed the insulter. She was a hefty woman of thirty-five with close-set eyes and a wicked tongue. "Haven't they done worse to us?"

  "Aye, but the time is not yet ripe for such talk," Lady Stewart argued.

  "And when will it be time, I'd like to know," she persisted.

  "Soon, but why should we not enjoy one another's company? It would do us good in future matters to know each other," our hostess advised.

  Her advice was duly taken up, and we separated into little groups. I looped my arm through Elisa's and smiled at her.

  "Would you care very much if I kept beside you? I hardly know a soul here," I pleaded.

  She blushed. "I-I am hardly one to know them any better."

  "But if I am to have a guide I would have you as mine," I complimented her.

  "You pair make me so very jealous," Lady Stewart commented as she swept over to us. Her dark eyes flickered from Elisa to me, and I noticed the corners of her smile were strained. "You two appear to be long-lost friends."

  "If that's true than I hope to reacquaint myself with her," I commented.

  Lady Stewart gently grasped our arms and guided us to her group by the warm fire. "Well, you two must come over and-"

  The doors to our abode opened. We turned and saw that Lord Stewart stood in the doorway. Ken was at his side, along with Lord Cameron.

  "My ladies, Laird Moray has graciously offered to put on a play for us!" Lord Stewart announced.

  A gasp arose from the women, and more than one clapped their hands. They chattered among themselves at the rare amusement offered by my mate. Elisa's eyes lit up and a smile brightened her face. Lady Stewart swept to the forefront of our group and moved herself to Ken's side.

  "My Laird Moray, you do us a great honor, but pray, where did you find a troupe to perform?" she asked him.

  Ken smiled and shook his head. "I have not found a troupe, or, rather, not one usually considered a troupe."

  His words caught the attention, and the tongues, of the ladies. Lady Stewart leaned back and furrowed her brow.