“Where are we going?”
“Upstairs.”
“To Shona’s chambers?”
Ailein nodded. “I spoke to Bryce. I told him I wanted to see the rooms.”
“What did he say?”
“It was perfectly fine with him.” She stood contemplatively for a moment. “The more time that goes by, the more I understand him . . . and why he became so angry on our wedding night.”
“Why did he?”
“Think of what he went through.” Ailein walked to the window and looked out at the bluffs. “Shona was always intended for his brother. Then the devastating news comes that Conall is dead. He assumes the position of laird and marries her to fulfill a family agreement. Months pass. And then the news reaches him: his brother is alive. He wants to get him back. Nothing else matters. He didn’t want the title in the first place. He has no wish to be laird. Wealth means nothing to him. He just wants Conall back.”
Innes knew of the bond between the two men. She’d never forget Conall’s words to her the day on the rocks.
Ailein turned to her. “But Shona fought him. She preferred to let Conall rot in a dungeon rather than ransom him.”
Anger washed through Innes. To think of what Conall had gone through, and the woman who had once been promised to him wished him dead. “She was a troubled person. The more I know about her, the more upset I become.”
“My husband says he never told any of that to Conall. But none of it mattered. By the time they were back, Shona was dead and Fingal had decided how she died and where she should be buried.”
“But why was Bryce angry about the brooch?”
“Because he knew his brother must have gone upstairs to fetch it. He was upset because he thought it meant that Conall still cared for a woman who didn’t deserve his affection. He was angry because it was a reminder of Shona.” Ailein walked to the center of the room. “And of course, I didn’t help things by losing my temper.”
Innes was relieved those two had resolved their troubles. It warmed her heart to know Ailein could speak openly to her husband about his first marriage.
“I disliked Teva,” Innes said. “And I’m certain I would have detested Shona if I’d met her, but what you just said makes it more obvious that she was not a woman to end her own life. She would have fought her husband and Conall when they returned before giving up anything she saw as hers.”
“I know.”
“Did you tell Bryce about Teva’s accusations?”
“Nay, I couldn’t,” Ailein said. “I gave her my word. And Bryce has been kind to her. I wouldn’t wish to taint for him whatever good feeling he gets from his charity. It would hurt him if he heard her accusations. Those are three people that he respects.”
Innes understood her sister’s decision. “Why are we really going to Shona’s room?”
The younger woman shrugged. “I don’t know. To put it behind us? I would like to finally decide that whatever happened, it’s finished. With the room open and people coming and going, perhaps I could lay Shona’s ghost to rest.”
How many minds had Innes touched only to find them plagued by that sense of unfinished business? Innes looked at her sister with new sense of appreciation. This new Ailein was brave and direct. She knew how to fight. She deserved to be happy.
“How are we going to get into those apartments?” Innes asked. “I distinctly remember hearing that they’re locked.”
“I spoke to Wynda,” said Ailein. “She asked Lachlan to open the room for us and she suggested having Fingal come along, too.”
“Why the two of them?”
“They’re worried about you. The estrangement between you and the earl is an ongoing topic of conversation among the Sinclairs. No one knows the reason, but everyone is eager to offer a suggestion about how to bring you two back together.”
“Am I going upstairs so these people can give me advice?”
“Nay,” her sister said innocently. “They just want to see you.”
Innes pulled on her gloves and followed Ailein up the stairs. The door to Shona’s room was open.
The chambers were furnished very much the same as Ailein’s rooms in the North Tower. But it was apparent that no one had lived in or visited the place for quite some time. A thick coating of dust covered the surfaces. All the windows were open and a warm cross breeze wafted through the room.
Wynda stood by a window overlooking the bluffs—the same window from which Shona fell. Like those in the room below, this one opened wide enough for a person to pass through.
Innes tore her gaze away. She didn’t want to imagine Shona’s death.
The priest stood near Wynda, speaking to her, but he stopped when he noticed their arrival. Lachlan was studying a wall and a section of the ceiling where it appeared there had been some leakage. All three came over and greeted them, and were most solicitous of Innes.
“I’ll have the mason come up and see to that leak,” Lachlan told Wynda. “We’ll want to get him up on the roof before the next storm. If you want to leave everything open, I’ll come back and lock it up myself.”
Wynda nodded and Ailein walked the steward toward the door.
“From the water marks on the floor, the damage to the roof must have been there a while,” she said.
“Aye. You could be right about that. There’s no telling it wasn’t there even when Mistress Shona lived up here.”
“Wouldn’t she tell you,” Innes asked, “if there was a problem?”
“Nay, not that one. Not until it became a much greater job than it had to be. Of course, then it’d be my hide for not noticing it sooner. But that was her way.” Lachlan shook his head. “By the way, m’lady, the earl is coming with me to Wick again in two days. I know we’d both enjoy your company if you’d consider coming along.”
“Thank you, Lachlan,” Innes said softly. “But I promised to spend the day with my sister. Perhaps next time.”
Innes didn’t miss the cross look her sister sent her. The two of them had made no such plans.
The steward doffed his cap and disappeared out the door.
Wynda and Fingal were standing quietly by while Innes walked around the room, studying the personal items left on the table and on a dresser. Being here, realizing this was the room of another woman who had disappointed Conall, brought on another wave of sorrow.
“Are we planning to use this room in the future?” Ailein asked Wynda.
“Since Lachlan will be bringing workers up here, this might just be as a good time as any to clean it up and make it ready for guests.”
Innes’s attention was drawn to them. “Why did Shona decide to live here and not move to the newer ward and the new rooms in the North Tower?”
“She was always set on having her own way,” Wynda said flatly. “This was where she lived when she arrived as a child, and this was where she decided to stay after her wedding. It mattered naught to her that her husband’s chambers were not even in this ward of the castle.”
“One would think it would have been inconvenient for her here,” Ailein commented, “considering the distance to the Great Hall and the kitchens and everyplace else that her rounds would have taken her.”
“Inconveniencing folks was never her concern. Shona thought of only one person, and that was herself.”
Wynda’s gaze went from Innes to Ailein and then to the priest. After their arrival, Fingal had taken a seat in a corner, listening and watching.
“She was a spoiled child who grew to be a spoiled woman,” Wynda continued, unable to keep the edge out of her voice. “I don’t like to speak of the dead this way, but it’s the truth. And both those lads, thankfully, grew up knowing her nature.”
Teva’s attitude toward the Sinclairs of Girnigoe was nothing compared to the hostility in Wynda’s tone. There was no question that she did not approve of Shona.
“Is that why the earl waited and did not marry her?” Innes asked.
The priest spoke up for the first time,
drawing all eyes as he stood. “Conall Sinclair would have gone to the gates of Hell to fight Lucifer himself if he thought it would buy him more time. He had no interest in marrying the lass. But he would have done it eventually, I’m sure, for he is an honest man. Is that not so?”
Wynda nodded her agreement but said nothing.
“And I never blamed him or urged him to do any different,” Fingal continued. “I came here with her. I knew her. She was a mean and selfish lass from the time she could talk. I place no blame with her upbringing at Girnigoe. She arrived that way and, because of her loss of parents, folks gave way to her. As a result, she respected no authority. She learned no obedience. No respect. As you say, Wynda, she valued nothing more than her own welfare.”
“But why would a person like that kill herself?” Innes’s question silenced them all for a few heartbeats.
“It wasn’t because of any love for Conall,” Wynda explained. “She didn’t want him back. She was angry with Bryce for going after his brother. Her position was selfish, cold, and harsh, but she didn’t care who knew how she felt. That was the last straw for me. The morning of the day that she died, she and I had an argument in the Great Hall. We never settled it, not that it matters now.”
Clearly upset, she sat in a chair by a window and stared out.
Innes looked at Fingal. “And yet, with all of this unresolved, there was no doubt in your mind that she took her own life?”
The wiry little priest shook his head.
“None,” the man said with all the gravitas he could muster. “Shona committed a mortal sin, and she did it to punish her husband. With full knowledge, she deliberately ended her life, and in that same act, she murdered the Sinclair heir in her womb. Her actions warranted the loss of our charity and the salvation of Heaven. And she did this to herself. She brought upon herself her exclusion from Christ’s kingdom. She condemned herself to the fiery pit of Hell.”
He moved across the room and then stopped at the doorway. “You ask if I have any doubt that she would harm herself and an unborn child. I know she did it, and I know it was done in revenge. She told me she would do it.”
Where does it come from, this pride, this arrogance that makes a lass believe she is a queen? Shona had that. Everyone around her lived only to serve her, or so she believed. We were only fit for her to wipe her boots on. I tried everything to teach her that this was wrong. Nothing worked. Nothing reached her.
When I found her whipping a serving lass, I put a halt to that. She stopped, for a time. Then she became . . . cleverer and more secretive. And for my trouble, she hated me. Not with any outward display, but I knew.
And when I saw how she treated my lads, our own war began. No one would treat Conall and Bryce badly and get away with it.
And on it went . . . until she was nearly of age. But before she and Conall could marry, he was cut down and taken at Solway Moss. My boy was gone.
But it made no difference to Shona. She would marry the new heir, and she would be queen of her domain all the same.
Chapter 20
“I know him,” Wynda had told her. “I raised him. I could tell you stories for days about his moods. Conall will brood in silence forever. If you care for him, then go after him. Make him see you.”
Innes heard the words echoing over and over in her mind. Last night, as they were leaving Shona’s chambers, Wynda had put her hand on Innes’s arm and told her what she needed to do. Unfortunately, Ailein heard her as well, and spent the next hour lecturing Innes until she relented.
So here she was, a pawn in these women’s hands . . . albeit, willingly. She was to become the pursuer. The enticer.
She was out of her mind. But she knew deep down that she had to try or forever look back on this chapter in her life as the time when cowardice prevailed.
A gale blew in through the west-facing windows. The weather today resembled late fall instead of early summer.
“Jinny, if I’m dead from a chill, none of this will matter. Maybe we should close those shutters.”
“I know you’re a far hardier lass than that, Innes Munro. You’ll not touch those shutters. And you’ll not blow out the candles.”
Innes frowned in frustration as the serving woman ran the brush repeatedly through her hair.
“And you’ll definitely not put on any cloak over this bonnie white shift I had sewn especially for you,” Jinny continued.
“He’s probably sleeping, you know,” Innes grumbled. “We’re going through all this deviousness for nothing.”
“You don’t worry about any of that now, hear me?” Jinny scolded. “You listen to your sister’s advice, and all will work out. She’s a married woman now. She knows what to do, and her husband is on your side, too, don’t forget.”
Innes wondered how Conall would feel if he knew that practically his entire clan was scheming against him on her behalf.
Jinny’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if spies lurked in the shadows. “Nothing would make me happier than to have you two settled here together. My two precious girls.”
Innes looked down at the sleeveless shift she was wearing. Made of fine linen, it was also extremely thin. “I might as well be wearing nothing at all.”
“That’s the idea, my darling lass. But give it time.”
Sighing with resignation, she allowed the older woman to finish brushing her hair, but as soon as Jinny left, Innes went around the room blowing out the candles. When she extinguished the last two, she stood by the open window and looked out at the West Tower. A man’s figure was silhouetted in the window, watching her.
In spite of herself, her insides thrilled at the thought of it, but she closed the shutter.
“I just hope that was Conall watching,” she murmured, running for the bed.
If he went right now through the tunnels and knocked at her door, or if he ran straight across the bridge and scaled the wall to her window, he wondered if Innes would let him in.
This was the first time Conall had seen her after far too long. And by ’sblood, he was seeing her now, moving about her chambers, wearing practically nothing. The fire ignited in his loins, and he knew he couldn’t look away if the Second Coming occurred directly behind him.
“I said close that shutter, Conall, not stand there gaping like some shepherd who thinks he may have heard a pack of wolves in the darkness. No offense, Thunder.”
“Not a word out of you, measle,” Conall barked at his brother, keeping his gaze fixed on the window in the East Tower. “These are my chambers. You sit quietly and stare at the board for a spell and maybe Thunder will give you a hint as to your next move.”
Innes stood at the window and blew out the last of the candles in her chambers. Damn. He still waited for few heartbeats more, hoping that perhaps she’d change her mind and light another candle.
“I don’t see what the attraction is out there. And as much as I absolutely love this game, I don’t have all night. Do you want to continue or no?”
Conall stalked back to their game. “The next time we train together, I’m going to kick your scrawny arse all over the Inner Ward.”
“Terrifying,” Bryce responded, yawning.
“Check.”
“Bloody hell.” His king started to run.
“I don’t know why I waste my time playing with you,” Connell complained.
He really wanted to play with Innes. He imagined what it would be like to sit across from her, trying to strategize, when she was dressed only in that shift. It would be the most enjoyable loss ever, he decided.
“You should send one of the lads off to Saint Andrews to hire a tutor,” he grouched at Bryce. “Take some bloody lessons. There’s a great deal to be learned from chess. Check.”
“She’s leaving, you know.”
His brother might not have a great deal of finesse, but he knew how to deliver a fatal stab. Conall did not lift his eyes from the board.
“When?” he asked.
“Tomorrow, if it were up
to her.”
Conall should have been relieved. He told himself to be relieved. But he wasn’t. He was aggravated.
“Ailein is trying to keep her here for as long as she can, but she’s fighting a losing battle,” Bryce continued. “What happened between you two? What went wrong?”
“Nothing that concerns you. Checkmate.”
Bryce sat back and stared at him. “She will be leaving in a sennight, I can tell you that. And this time, it’s definite. She’s not relying on Sinclair escorts. She sent off a letter to Folais Castle, asking her father to send some of his men. Think, brother. Do what you have to do. Your time is running out.”
Chapter 21
To develop a winning strategy in chess, you need to know your rival, what they want, and when they will make their move to get it. To accomplish that, Innes thought, information was invaluable and timing was key.
And with Ailein marshaling her league of informants, Innes had everything she needed.
Innes got word the moment that Conall and Lachlan left for Wick, and she knew when they were expected to return. His man Duff was in charge of Thunder whenever the earl was away from the castle on day trips. Bryce assured her that the manservant would be compliant.
Shortly before Conall and the steward were expected back, Innes knocked at Conall’s door in the West Tower. Duff let her in and handed her one end of a makeshift leash with an excited young wolf attached to the other end. As always, Thunder’s enthusiasm at seeing her was a challenge to control.
“Don’t let him near the horses, m’lady. Those stable hands will have my hide hung and drying on a wall if you do. But more important, and I’m begging you, the kitchens. Please keep the beast well clear of the kitchens.”
“Don’t fear, Duff. We are going down to the rocky beach on the sea side of the castle. I’ll keep him there until . . . until someone comes for him.”
She hoped that someone would be Conall Sinclair.
Initially, Innes intended to kidnap Thunder and keep him in the East Tower with her. The more she got into this scheming, the more devious her mind became. But a simple plan was often the most effective, so she reined in her guile.
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