Highland Guard

by Hannah Howell

  A soft hiss of pain drew her attention. She turned to catch Harcourt wincing as he pushed himself into a more upright position. Shaking aside the last of her thoughts concerning Sir Callum she moved to assist Harcourt.

  The moment she put her hands on his warm, smooth skin, Annys knew she had made a mistake. Memories of their lovemaking all those years ago crowded into her mind as they too often did since his return, heating her blood. She gritted her teeth as she fought the urge to release her firm hold on him and stroke his strong arms until he wrapped them around her. Harcourt settled himself firmly against the pillows and she immediately released him. Annys clasped her hands together behind her back to hide how they trembled.

  Harcourt wasted no time in helping himself to the rich stew she had brought him. It was not the hearty piece of roasted meat he craved, but it was not a tasteless broth either. It also distracted him from the need to yank her into his arms, to pull her body beneath his and repeatedly feed the hunger she stirred within him.

  “Has Benet come to see you since the first time when I brought him in?” she asked.

  “Aye, many times,” Harcourt replied. “I think he finally believes I havenae been killed.”

  Annys smiled. “He was verra fearful. It took me quite a while to convince him that it wasnae his fault. He was so certain he should have fought harder. I fear he doesnae like to be reminded that he is just a wee lad.”

  “Of course not. No lad does. From the day they understand they are to become men like those they see walking about with swords, fighting, and drinking ale, they take on that pride.”

  “Hmmm. So they try to become men with all that swagger and arrogance.”

  “Aye.” He grinned at the look of annoyance on her face.

  “Weel, he is calmer now. Ye will be pleased to ken that Joan believes ye can get out of bed for a wee while. It has been a sennight and ye are healing weel.”

  “We Murrays do heal weel, and oftimes fast.”

  “A fine gift. But, ye are to be careful to nay do too much or stand on that leg too much.”

  Harcourt nodded, frustrated but not foolish enough to ignore good advice. “The healers in my clan would say the same. Aye, and be verra annoyed if I didnae heed their warnings.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “And I suspicion if I was fool enough to ignore Mistress Joan’s advice, she would show me that she could lecture me with all the power of my mother.”

  “Aye, she would. Joan has always been an expert at a good, ear-reddening scold.”

  Annys reached to take away his now empty dishes and squeaked in surprise when he put an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She put her hands on his broad shoulders to keep some space between them but decided that was a mistake. The warmth of his skin beneath her hands had her pulse leaping. When he moved, the shift of his strong muscles under her hands made her flush as her blood heated.

  “Ye ken, ’tis custom to kiss a wound to help it heal,” he murmured as he kissed her blush-tinged cheek.

  “That is only for bairns,” she said, fighting the urge to look at his strong thigh, the one now bearing stitches and snugly bandaged.

  “A poor wounded mon is much akin to a bairn.”

  “Ye willnae hear me argue that.”

  He was still smiling when he kissed her. Annys knew she ought to pull away, to admonish him for his attempt to seduce her, but she failed to gather the willpower to do so. He tasted too good. Despite the slight awkwardness of the position she was in, it also felt far too good to be held in his arms again. She wanted to push all the dishes aside and climb into the bed with him.

  A hard rap at the door jerked Annys to her senses. She scrambled free of Harcourt’s grasp so quickly she barely stopped herself from falling on the floor and rattled the dishes. Only his quick action saved him from a lap full of dirty dishes. Fussily patting her hair to fix any dishevelment and plucking at her skirts to be certain they were in place, Annys ignored Harcourt’s grumbled objections to being disturbed and moved toward the door. It surprised her to find Callum there, his expression far more serious than she was used to seeing.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, her fear still running strong after what had happened to Benet.

  “Nay, but I need to talk to Harcourt for a moment,” he said.

  “Just give me a moment to collect the dishes,” she said and hurriedly did so.

  It was not until she found herself out in the hall, the door shut securely behind her, that Annys began to be a little annoyed. If they were about to discuss Sir Adam or some trouble at Glencullaich she should be involved in the discussion. Then she shook aside that moment of pique. She had handed the problem of Glencullaich over to Harcourt and his men. It was unfair for her to now complain about how they went about it. If there was anything she truly needed to know or do as the lady of Glencullaich, Harcourt would tell her.

  Although, she mused as she made her way back to the kitchens, it might not be a good idea to be alone with Harcourt for too long. Annys knew he had been working hard to seduce her into his bed. She also knew she was weakening fast. It was past time for her to come to a decision about Harcourt. Her heart and body yearned for him but she had to try to silence them and think clearly. If nothing else, if she bed down with him she wanted it to be her choice, a clear-headed, well-thought-out decision.

  “The traitor is in the kitchen,” said Callum as he sat on the edge of Harcourt’s bed.

  “Ye discovered which one is betraying us?” Harcourt wanted to leap from the bed to go confront the one who had given his son into the hands of his enemy, probably with sword in hand, and he was not sure the fact that it was a woman he was hunting would stop him from killing her.

  “Nay yet, but ’tis one of the lassies who work in the kitchens. Three of them have some secret. The lass I play with is certain that two of them have a lover they meet with, one they dinnae want anyone to ken about. She isnae sure what young Minna is doing but doubts ’tis anything bad.”

  “Annys’s kitchens are a true pit of sin from what ye say. Can ye trust your lass?”

  “Aye,” Callum said without hesitation. “I havenae told her why I ask so much, but she isnae a fool and I think she has guessed my game. She quickly began to tell me anything and everything about each one who works there. Peg grew even more of a fount of information after Benet was taken. The shades of outrage within the kitchens was another way I have fixed my interests and suspicions on but three of them, although I do believe Minna is innocent of betrayal. ’Tis only her closely held secret that makes me wonder.”

  “Ye didnae discover this all between here and the great hall. Why come to tell me right now? Did ye e’en get a bite to eat?”

  “Peg was waiting for me just inside the door of the great hall to quietly say that she had thought long and hard on what I was trying to discover and it suddenly occurred to her that ’tis nay just the problems with Sir Adam that have me asking questions. She said she thinks I have decided the laird was killed and am looking for the killer. Seems someone might have overheard our talk of poison. She told me that only three women dealt with the laird’s food.”

  “The three ye already watch?”

  “Aye. Biddy, Minna, and Adie.”

  “Do ye ken why it is the maids in the kitchens who are the only ones amongst who a traitor has emerged?”

  “Aside from the fact that the easiest way to poison someone ye badly want dead is to get to him through his food?”

  “Aye, aside from that.”

  “Weel, they are nay watched verra closely, are they. They go where they want as long as the meal is done weel and on time.” Callum smiled faintly. “No one wishes to cause trouble for the ones who feed them. ’Tis also verra easy for one of them to slip in and out of the keep. There are always errands to run and supplies needed. No one questions what they are doing. The entrance to the bolt-hole is verra close at hand so it is easy to sneak into. Those two things alone were why I set after one of those lassi
es.”

  “Have ye found who nay longer has the key to the bolt-hole?”

  “Dunnie found his. Nicolas found his yet seems to think something isnae right about it. It works so it is the key. Or a key. Joan found hers. So, Nicolas and I are thinking it may have been his key, stolen, and used to have another made. I have also made certain that the place where the tunnel comes out is weel guarded, but not too obviously.”

  “We need to find which one of them is the guilty one as quickly as we can. Sir Adam is preparing for something, I am certain of it, and we cannae have anyone here who is willing to help him,” said Harcourt.

  Callum nodded and stood up. “I mean to follow each one of them. May e’en get Nicolas to help. First will be Minnie. I need to ken what her secret is before I can dismiss her as the traitor.”

  Harcourt settled back against his pillows after Callum left. They were close, he could feel it. Ending Sir Adam’s ability to get information about them would be the first true victory they had gained. Most everything else they had done had been little more than successful acts of defense. More was needed.

  He greeted Nicolas with relief when the man arrived. Although he would do his best not to do too much that might risk aggravating the healing wound in his leg, he had to get out of the bed he had been trapped in for a sennight. Laughing at Harcourt’s eagerness, Nicolas helped him dress. When the man handed him a walking stick, Harcourt swore but took it.

  It did not take many steps for Harcourt to realize a week in bed sapped a man’s strength. He should have remembered that, he thought as he almost collapsed in the seat at the table in the great hall. A few drinks of ale, set before him by a freckle-faced maid, were enough to revive him and he was pleased when the others joined him. They needed to make plans because he could not shake free of the certainty that Sir Adam would soon attack Glencullaich in force.

  Annys scowled at what remained in the spice cupboard. Either Maura, the cook, had been too caught up with the troubles they were suffering from to notice how low their supply was getting or was just old enough now to become forgetful. There had also been a lot of the villagers staying at the keep who had needed to be fed, although most of those had been able to return home by now. If their spices were not replenished soon they would all be eating some very bland food.

  Realizing she had nothing to make a list of their needs with, Annys decided to go get some writing materials from the ledger room. If they were running out of something as important as spices they undoubtedly needed other things. She started out of the storeroom only to pause just inside the door to study the women there.

  When she saw Biddy, a plump, fair-haired young woman who was one of the cook’s assistants, slyly tuck some bread into her apron, Annys stepped back a little into the shadows and kept her gaze fixed on the woman. Since Biddy had no desperate need for food, she had to wonder why the woman would steal some bread. It could be something as innocent as wanting to share some food with a lover, but Annys was still wary. The moment she had learned there was a traitor within the walls of Glencullaich, the number of people she trusted without question had dropped alarmingly. Annys wanted the traitor gone so that she could feel safe again within her own home.

  Biddy told Maura she needed to get out of the hot kitchen for a while. Maura did not even look up from the work she was doing, just grunted in reply. The moment Biddy walked out, Maura began to mutter to herself, a long list of complaints about how often Biddy walked away from the work she was supposed to do. The fact that Biddy did not go out the door leading to the kitchen gardens was suspicious. Annys decided that was more than enough reason to follow the woman.

  Biddy slunk her way to the door leading into the ledger room and Annys felt her suspicions grow stronger. One thing she did know about the woman was that Biddy could neither read nor do her numbers. There was nothing in the ledger room that could possibly be of interest to her except the door to the bolt-hole.

  Annys waited outside the door, keeping close to the wall and using the shadows there to hide in. A moment later Biddy slipped out of the room, something the shape of a small book weighing down one of the pockets in her apron. Torn between rushing into the ledger room to see just what the woman had taken and following her to see if she went to meet with anyone, Annys finally picked the latter course of action.

  When Biddy slipped into the small room meant for the lady of the keep to entertain her female friends, Annys’s heart sank into her boots. That was where the special, very secret bolt-hole was. She doubted David had confided that information to the cook’s assistant so Annys had to think that she had been spied on by the maid. Every so often she would check that bolt-hole to see if it needed any repair. It was just another part of her duties in the keep and it would probably have been easy enough for Biddy to see her do it or even overhear the occasional remark made to Joan after she had done the chore.

  She waited outside the door a few moments and then slipped inside, working furiously on a reasonable excuse for being there if Biddy was still in there. No one was in the room and she sighed. There was only one way out of this small solar if one did not choose to use the door, and that was the bolt-hole David had made for a select few. It really did not matter how Biddy found out about it, only that she had. If the woman was just using it to meet a lover, it could be a forgivable crime, but Annys’s instinct told her it was far more than that.

  Sliding aside the wood panel that hid the opening to the bolt-hole, Annys slipped inside. She could see the light from Biddy’s torch just up ahead. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she followed the woman just far enough to remain unseen or duck into the shadows, but near enough to take full advantage of the torchlight. Her heart was pounding and she knew it was not all with the anticipation of solving an important puzzle. The fear she had for such tight, dark places was stirring to life inside her.

  When Biddy reached the end and opened the hatch that led outside, Annys pressed herself hard against the wall and inched back a few steps, deep into the dark she so hated. Then all the light was gone as Biddy silently put the hatch back down and the full dark of the tunnel pressed in on her. Annys realized she was panting, her nails digging into the stone she leaned against. It took a long time for her to calm down enough to run over to the hatch and test it to be certain it would open easily.

  She reached up and cracked the hatch open just enough to let some light inside. Annys stood there for a little while, savoring the light and breathing deeply of pine and grass, before cautiously peeking outside, her eyes just above the thick grasses covering the hillside. She could see Biddy running toward some trees. It was not until the woman was just inside the wooded area that the men arrived.

  Thinking she was about to completely ruin a very good dress, Annys pulled herself out of the hole and sprawled in the grasses. It was not easy but she squirmed around until she could reach the hatch and quickly closed it again, letting the small bushes crowded around the hatch fall back into place to hide it. A quick look told her that the people meeting in the wood had all their attention on each other so she scurried closer until she was crouched behind a clump of saplings.

  “I fetched that ledger ye asked for, Clyde,” said Biddy, barely releasing her grip on him to pull the book from her pocket and hand it over.

  Annys had to clamp her hand over her mouth to smother a gasp of shock. That was the book in which David had kept his accounting of all he had given to Sir Adam’s family over the years. He had told her that he had also begun to keep a record of all that he knew or did not know about Nigel’s death. She had to wonder which matter Adam was most interested in.

  Clyde hugged Biddy and gave her a kiss. Annys listened as he told the foolish woman what a beauty and a joy she was. That soon they would live well because he was Sir Adam’s second and she would be his woman. She would be but one step down from whatever lady Sir Adam chose as a wife once he was laird of Glencullaich.

  “I dinnae ken if I can do that again, Clyde,” she said when he s
tarted to speak of trying again to get Benet. “They are watching the lad verra closely now. Someone e’en follows him to the garderobe now. And a knight sleeps in his bedchamber. And I think someone is closing up all the ways I use to slip out to you.”

  “Do the best ye can, my love. Our path to the laird’s chair will clear quickly if the brat isnae standing in the way.”

  Annys clenched her hands into tight fists, wishing she was a sword-wielding knight. She would cut them all down where they stood and smile as she did so. Benet was but a child and they spoke as if he meant no more to them than some pebble they needed to shake from their shoes.

  “How fares the knight? The one wounded when they took the boy back.”

  “Sir Harcourt is out of his bed, healing weel. He walks with a stick though.”

  Even from where she crouched, Annys could see that that news displeased Clyde.

  “I tried what ye asked but only Joan tends to his meals.”

  “Keep trying, love. The woman cannae keep that up for long since she must answer the demands of her ladyship.”

  The way Biddy nodded told Annys the woman thought that the truth. She began to wonder if Biddy had ever really seen what it was like where she lived. If she had, she would never believe what this man was saying.

  There was more kissing and Annys decided it was a good time for her to make her escape. She started to wriggle her way back, never taking her eyes off Biddy, her lover, and the men with him. The lack-witted Biddy was completely enraptured by the man. Annys prayed she did not look at Harcourt with that slack-jawed adoration.

  “How I wish we had more time to spend together, my love, but I need to get away from here before I am seen. Our time is coming soon. I will send word when it is time for ye to do that last favor for us.”

  “It willnae be easy for me to slip away to make certain all the ways inside the keep are open to you, Clyde. I may nay be able to get to them all.”