"I'm sorry, Kara," he murmured to her sleeping form. She was here on behalf of the grandmother she adored, and he'd not made things easy for her.
A sudden heaviness settled over him. Since Kara didn't belong in this time . . . her stay here would only be temporary. Soon, his Kara, with her spirited mind and fierce heart, would return to her own time. He'd never wanted a lass by his side for more than a few weeks, but with Kara, the thought of her leaving filled him with a sharp ache.
He drifted off to sleep with the troublesome thoughts of Kara's eventual departure, and awoke from his fitful sleep at first light, kissing Kara's forehead before extricating himself from her warm, beautiful body with reluctance. Her suggestion of continuing to look into Clan Acheson’s potential allies was a good one; he would broach it during the meeting with the nobles today.
Even though he was allowing her to help, he'd have to keep her out of sight of the clan nobles. The only people aware of her presence here were his servants and his men, but they were loyal and wouldn't gossip about his mysterious guest to outsiders. If the clan nobles knew of her existence, they'd have questions—and suspicions. It was a miracle Fiona had passed muster. He didn't know if Kara would be so fortunate.
Once dressed, he stepped out into the hall. He intercepted Aislin as she made her way to Kara's chamber.
"The lady is asleep in my chamber," he said. "But let her rest."
"Aye, m'laird," Aislin said, averting her gaze, but he saw the delight in her eyes. Aislin must have taken a liking to Kara and seemed pleased that she'd spent the night in his bed. I plan tae keep her in my bed, Ronan said silently, as Aislin moved past him. As long as I can.
He descended the stairs with a small smile curving his lips. At the sight of Beathan approaching him, Ronan’s smile vanished. He was going to have words with him and Luag about allowing Kara to slip from the manor.
But Ronan froze at the taut look of worry on Beathan's face.
"M'laird, a messenger just sent word," Beathan said, "the men who watch Elspeth’s manor stopped by for their morning check, and they found her gone. She’s fled."
Ronan dismounted from his horse, his heart thundering in his chest as he approached Elspeth’s manor. Osgar stood in the courtyard, standing opposite a frightened-looking chambermaid.
“Was Elspeth was taken by force?” Ronan asked when he reached them.
“No,” Osgar said, his mouth set in a grim line. “I’ve already searched the manor. It looks like she packed before she left.”
“Did she say anything? Tell ye she may go somewhere?” Ronan asked, turning his focus to the chambermaid.
“No, m’laird,” the chambermaid said, shaking her head. “But last night after she took her supper, she dismissed me before I could help her tae bed. Me and all the other servants. Said she wasnae feeling well and wanted tae be alone.”
“Did she seem ill?”
“She seemed fine, m’laird.”
Dread filled Ronan’s chest, and he stepped into the manor. He recalled Elspeth’s evasiveness the last time he was here. He was a fool to not have kept a closer watch on her.
Another chambermaid led him to Elspeth’s chamber, which confirmed what Osgar told him—her clothing chest was empty, along with a box of jewels. This wasn’t someone who’d been forced to leave.
Where did she go? Was she now working with the same person sending threats to the clan?
“Send men to the surrounding villages, and search the roads,” Ronan told Osgar when he returned to the first floor, though he doubted they would find her. If she’d left the night before, she was long gone by now.
He made his way to the castle, where the nobles were gathered in the great hall for the meeting.
Tension coursed through Ronan as he told them of Elspeth's abrupt departure.
“I already have men searching for her,” Ronan said. "I'm hoping we'll find her before she gets far."
He braced himself for their accusations—that he should have known Elspeth was planning something given her closeness to Clan Acheson, that he should have kept a closer watch on her with Eadan gone.
Moireach and the nobles leveled him with hard gazes, but the great hall remained silent until McFadden spoke up.
"'Tis not Elspeth we're concerned with," McFadden said, studying him with narrowed eyes. "'Tis the foreign lass ye have in yer manor."
Ronan stiffened. How did they know about Kara? Was someone watching his manor—or had one of his trusted servants gossiped?
“My manservant saw ye with her yesterday,” McFadden continued, as if reading his thoughts. “He overheard her strange accent as ye left the castle with her. He said it looked like ye didnae want tae be seen. I had him follow ye back tae yer manor.”
“I am leader of this clan, McFadden. Ye had no right tae have yer man follow me,” Ronan growled. “The lass is my mistress. I donnae see how she’s any of yer concern.”
If they thought she was a mere mistress of his, Ronan hoped they'd drop the matter. But their eyes narrowed with even more suspicion.
“And when did this lass arrive?” Uallas pressed.
“Days ago," Ronan replied tightly.
“And ye donnae think ’tis odd that as soon as this lass arrives, our clan starts receiving threats?” McFadden demanded.
“We've received threats before she came here,” Ronan snapped, trying not to show his alarm. He didn't want their suspicions trained on his Kara.
“It would be a good way of distracting ye," Neasan spoke up. "Send a bonnie lass yer way for ye tae bed while Eadan is away—”
“And what are ye trying tae say, Neasan?” Ronan hissed. "We're all grown men. No need tae dance around it."
“Eadan wouldnae let himself get distracted. Even with the Sassenach he ended up marrying, he still kept his focus on Dughall and saved our clan. Ye’ve been chasing anything with skirts yer entire life, and now this whore shows up—"
Ronan lunged toward Neasan. Osgar darted in front of him, holding up his hands.
“M'laird,” he said, turning to give Neasan a hard look. “I’m sure Neasan didnae mean what he said.”
“I’m sure he didnae,” Ronan said, through clenched teeth. “Am I right?"
"My apologies," Neasan said, though his tone was not at all apologetic. “But 'tis our right tae question her."
“No,” Ronan growled.
“No?”
“No,” Ronan repeated, firm. “She’s my mistress; ye’ve never needed tae question any mistress of a clan noble before.”
"We questioned Eadan's wife," McFadden interjected.
"Kara's not my wife," he returned, an odd ache piercing him at the words. "She's my mistress, and she has nothing tae do with any of this. We need tae focus on who is after us, not on who I’m bedding. We need tae talk tae more members of the—"
“We’ve already spoken to a dozen of Clan Acheson's nobles," Uallas interrupted.
“We’ve been asking the wrong questions. I donnae believe 'tis the Acheson clan sending us threats—Eadan executed the treasonous ones. This may be an ally of the Acheson’s, someone who wants tae claim the disputed lands.”
“And how do ye ken?” Neasan asked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“'Tis a reasonable guess,” Ronan said. He wouldn’t dare suggest it was Kara’s idea. “We need tae do everything we can tae find out who this is and what they’re planning. These threats—ill omens and such—they seem like mere distractions. I fear something more dangerous is about tae happen."
“I told ye, I wasnae keen tae Dughall's conversations,” Seamus said. "He ken I didnae agree with his plans."
Ronan stood in Eadan's study opposite Seamus, a member of Clan Acheson who'd once been close to Dughall. He'd questioned several men from Clan Acheson since his meeting earlier that day with the nobles, and they’d all sworn ignorance about potential allies.
“Do ye ken if Dughall or any of his men had allies?" he asked. He expected Seamus to answer the way the others had�
�that he knew nothing.
But Seamus stiffened.
"What?" Ronan asked, hope surging through his chest. "What do ye ken?"
“'Tis is only a rumor," Seamus hedged, "but I heard Dughall had several meetings with the chieftain of Clan Sudrach months ago. It was thought nothing came of it."
Ronan studied him, excitement replacing his hope. No one had mentioned such meetings before.
He thanked Seamus and dismissed him, sinking down into his chair. He didn't know much about Clan Sudrach, they were a northern clan that stayed out of conflicts and kept to themselves. But if Dughall met with them months before he launched an attack on Clan Macleay . . .
Had he discovered Clan Macleay’s new enemy? Was Clan Sudrach behind the renewed threats?
Chapter 15
When Kara awoke to find herself alone, anger and irritation coursed through her. She’d told Ronan the truth; he’d agreed to let her help, and he’d still left her alone to sit like a useless statue in his manor.
Aislin entered with a fresh gown and tunic for her to change into. Her face warmed as she realized that Aislin probably gleaned what happened between her and Ronan the night before. But the smile Aislin gave her was neutral—and there was a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.
“Do you know where the laird is off to?” Kara asked, hoping she didn’t sound too needy.
“I assume he went tae the castle,” Aislin said, looking surprised by Kara’s inquiry. Kara could detect the silent question in her eyes: Ronan goes to the castle on a daily basis. Why would today be any different?
Because he knows who I am. We made love last night. I opened up to him, and him to me.
Her mind still humming with frustrated thoughts, Kara made her way to the study once Aislin left her alone. This time Luag didn’t stop her, and she flipped through records that looked like land deeds, but there was no mention of a Suibhne or Orla.
It was midday when she set down the last deed, rubbing her eyes. How thoroughly had Ronan’s messenger checked the village for her family? Alice had told her that the most important records about each village’s residents were kept in its church. If she could go the village church and take a look at the records herself, perhaps there was something there that Ronan’s messenger had overlooked.
Kara found Luag in the courtyard, flirting with a different young female servant. He stiffened as she approached, regarding her with wary appraisal.
“M’lady,” he said with forced politeness, giving her a curt nod.
“I’m going to the village,” she said, hating that she had to ask permission. She reminded herself that an unaccompanied woman wasn’t common—or safe—in this time. “I assume Ronan wouldn’t want me to go unaccompanied.”
“The laird gave ye his permission tae go?”
I don’t need his permission, damn it.
“Yes,” she lied. “He—wants me to check something for him. At the church.”
Luag still looked uncertain.
“I’ll go on my own if I have to,” Kara said with impatience.
Luag glowered at her; he understood her meaning. She’d snuck off to the castle just the day before.
“All right. But ye stay close tae me.”
Moments later, Luag rode alongside her as they headed to the nearest village, which Luag told her was a few miles south of Ronan’s manor.
A sense of awe flowed through her when they arrived at the village. Alice would have loved this, Kara thought, taking it in. Thatch-roofed cottages, winding dirt streets, taverns, workshops, villagers wandering to and fro. The pungent scent of butchered meats, the shouts of merchants hawking their wares. It was times like these that it hit her she was truly in another time.
Kara tried not to stare too much as they entered the village, but other than her sojourn to Macleay Castle, this was the first time she’d ventured out of Ronan’s manor to see the outside world as it was in 1390.
They soon arrived at the church, a small steepled building in the center of the village. Luag tied their horses to a nearby post and accompanied her inside. A short portly man who looked like a clergyman approached, his eyes straying to Kara with curiosity.
“Luag,” said the clergyman with a broad smile. “Did the laird need something?”
“He wants me to review the church records,” Kara said, stepping forward. “He’s . . . looking for someone.”
The clergyman’s eyes widened—not only at her strange accent, Kara guessed, but over the fact that she could read. He looked to Luag, who gave him a curt nod.
The clergyman turned, entering a back room and returning with a records book. He handed it to Kara, his eyes narrowing as she sat down in a pew to flip through it.
To her relief, Luag stepped forward and engaged him in conversation as she read. The clergyman’s wide-eyed stare would have made it difficult to concentrate.
The records book had logged baptisms, weddings, tithes—along with names. But there was no Suibhne and Orla listed.
Defeat roiled through her chest, and she thanked the clergyman before she and Luag left to ride back to the manor.
Your ancestors are here somewhere, she reassured herself, through her cloud of disappointment. You’ll find them.
She felt Luag’s curious gaze on her face as they rode, and she glanced over at him. He looked away, training his attention on the dirt road ahead. She didn’t know how much Ronan had told him about her, and curiosity lurked in his eyes.
“Thank you for accompanying me,” she said. “How long have you been working for Ron—for the laird?”
“A long time,” he said, and there was a trace of warning in his eyes as he continued, “Long enough to be loyal.”
His meaning was clear. He didn’t trust her, and he had every intention of telling Ronan about their little outing. She pressed her lips together and turned her attention back to the road. So much for her attempt to be friendly. They rode back to the manor in silence.
But there was no need for Luag to tattle. As soon as she dismounted from her horse, a furious Ronan strode out of the manor. She let out a startled cry as he gripped her arm and practically dragged her inside, just as he had the first day she’d arrived in this time.
Once they were alone in his chamber, he glowered down at her, his tawny eyes infused with anger. Even when enraged, he was ridiculously beautiful, and a heated awareness coursed through her body.
“I ken things are different in yer time,” he hissed, his voice low, “but in this time ye donnae leave whenever ye like. There are—"
“Your man accompanied me,” Kara snapped, fury flooding her. So he was going to keep treating her like a captive, even though he’d agreed to let her help. “And I just went to the village. I wanted to search the church records—see if I could find my family’s names there.”
“My men are trusted in the village, as am I. If they say yer family isnae in the village, ye must trust their word. Kara, things—things have grown more dangerous. I donnae ken what’s happening, but ’tis not safe for ye. The nobles ken about ye, and they’re suspicious. ’Tis best ye not leave the manor. At least, not without me.”
“Ronan— “
“Ye gave me yer word last night,” he said, his voice growing husky, and an image of his mouth on her skin filled her mind. She swallowed, as he continued, “That ye’d do as I commanded.”
Kara gritted her teeth. She had agreed to that, damn it.
“Fine,” she snapped. “But—I want to be included. I’m not going to sit in this manor doing nothing. I told you, I’m good at what I do. It would be foolish not to use me to help.”
“Ye can—within reason. I had tae leave in haste today because Elspeth has fled Macleay lands.”
“Elspeth,” Kara echoed, struggling to recall the name. “The widow? The one who was close to Clan Acheson?”
“Aye,” he said grimly. “We’re searching but I fear she’s long gone. I can only pray she just fled tae make a new life for herself, and not tae another clan tae work
against us. I’ve arranged tae talk tae the chief of another clan tomorrow,” he continued. “It seems Dughall may have made an alliance with a clan to the north, Clan Sudrach.”
Kara stilled, her heart leaping into her throat. Could this be it? The soon-to-be-deadly conflict Alice had mentioned in her letter?
“Ye were right,” he admitted. “Dughall may have had allies.”
“Ah,” she said with a grin. “Say that again, Ronan?”
His eyes glittered, but his lips twitched with amusement. “I said ye were right, Kara.”
“Again.”
“Kara—”
“Ye were right. I willnae say it again, lass.”
“I’m coming with you. To talk to this chieftain.”
The amusement vanished from his expression.
“No.”
“I won’t say a word—I’ll stay silent. Please, Ronan,” she said, hating that she had to resort to begging. “You’ve already taken one piece of my advice and found useful information. Imagine how much more I can help.”
“Fine,” he grunted, his mouth tight. “But ye’ll remain silent and ye’ll not protest when I give ye orders.”
“You have my word,” Kara said, relief coursing through her.
“I’m sorry if I was harsh with ye—about going tae the village,” he said after a pause, his expression softening. “When I returned and didnae find ye here—I was a feared something had happened tae ye.”
Kara’s heart leapt at his concern. Did he feel something more for her than just desire? Not that it matters, she told herself, but the admonishment didn’t stop the delight that rippled through her chest.
“I understand,” she murmured. “I’ll be careful. I’m not used to the way things are here. In my time, women have more freedom.”
“I can tell,” Ronan said wryly, stepping forward. He reached out, grazing her lip with his thumb, and she stilled, her heart picking up its pace. "Yer not like any lass I’ve known, Kara. Witch,” he said with a wink.
Ronan's Captive: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Fate Book 2) Page 8