Highland Groom

by Hannah Howell

  “Thus the return to random attacks and the attempts to kill Ilsa. Now we have our enemy. I just need to discover who her ally is within Clachthrom. It could be mon or woman.” He frowned. “She left behind two maids, one of whom went missing after Ilsa was poisoned.”

  “Why did she leave them behind?”

  “The lasses claimed they had no one to go back to and were needed at Clachthrom, could be more use, and, I suspected, gain a higher standing. I e’en thought they might have found lovers at Clachthrom.” He frowned and took a deep drink of ale. “I concede I didnae pay much heed to the lasses, yet they did their work. The woman who rules o’er the lot of them said they were good workers. Ye would think someone would have noticed if one or both of them were slipping off somewhere too often or asking too many questions.”

  “Weel, we can find the answers to those questions when we get back to Clachthrom. May find your brother already has a few. He was thinking about trying to find that maid.”

  “That might help. What I am finding difficult to understand is why Margaret would try to kill Ilsa. Tis evident the marriage was but a means to seek revenge upon me, and that she has found men to help her try again to kill me. I am nay sure I can think of a reason for her to kill Ilsa. What could that possibly gain her? Ilsa has ne’er wronged her, either.”

  “Except to arrive at the church and ruin a verra good plan,” said Liam, then shrugged when everyone looked at him. “Ye are dealing with someone who isnae quite right in the head, and ye expect to find logic in her actions? Ilsa ruined her plan to marry ye and wed ye. She tried to kill ye with hired fools again, and again failed. So, kill Ilsa and go back to the other plan of marrying ye and then killing ye. Actually, there may weel be a strange logic there.”

  “Do ye think she may have given up her plan of killing me for the moment and fixed her attention upon Ilsa?” asked Diarmot.

  “There is a verra good chance of that. The poison was meant for Ilsa, there was no error there, nay a sad mischance. Ilsa was supposed to die. That would seem to prove that she has returned to her plan of marrying ye and becoming a widow as soon as possible.”

  “We dinnae leave until dawn,” Diarmot said when he caught Sigimor watching him intently. “I ken it. I just pray I will find everything as I left it when I get back to Clachthrom.”

  “Everything will be fine,” said Sigimor. “Ye have good men and women watching o’er Ilsa.”

  “That I do, but kenning that isnae really enough to still all my worry.”

  “I am nay sure anything could do that.”

  “Nay, especially since I doubt ye can assure me that my wife willnae do anything foolish.” He sighed and nodded when none of the Camerons present offered him that assurance.

  Chapter EIGHTEEN

  There was such a dark look upon Nanty’s face as he strode into the garden that Ilsa felt her heart skip with alarm. Diarmot had been gone a sennight. There had been time enough for him to have reached Dubheidland, get into some trouble, and have someone return to Clachthrom with the bad news. She slowly rose from the herb bed she had been weeding, telling herself to be calm, that she could easily be fretting over nothing. It did little to ease her sudden trepidation.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked Nanty as he came to a stop in front of her.

  “I am nay sure,” he replied. “A lad has just come to Clachthrom to say he and his father have found the body of a young woman in a ditch.”

  “Oh, dear, do ye think it the maid who went missing?”

  “I cannae be sure, yet who else could it be? No one else has reported that any other lass has gone missing.”

  “Nay, they havenae. So, ye must ride away and find out what this is all about.”

  “I am supposed to be guarding ye, Ilsa.” He held up his hand to silence her protests. “I ken I have nae been at your side every hour of every day, have e’en left the keep for wee forays outside these walls. Yet it sorely troubles me to do so now. If this is the missing maid, and if she has been murdered that alters a great many of the assumptions we have made since ye were poisoned.”

  “Ah, of course.” She wiped her hands upon her apron. “Her murder could mean she wasnae the one who poisoned me. It could mean that the poor lass was led away and murdered just to make us all believe she was guilty. How sad.”

  Nanty dragged his hand through his hair. “Tis far more than sad, Ilsa. That would mean the one who did poison ye is still within these walls. E’en worse, that person is one who thinks naught of murdering some poor, innocent lass just to hide his own trail.”

  Ilsa grasped him by the arm and started to lead him out of the garden. “Then ye had best find out if that is what has happened, hadnae ye?”

  “I told Diarmot and your brothers I would watch o’er ye.”

  “And ye have. This is also watching o’er me. We need to ken if this is the maid, if she died by accident whilst fleeing from her crime, or if she was naught but a pawn in someone else’s deadly game. Twill tell us if the killer still lurks within these walls and that is verra important.”

  Nanty laughed softly when they reached the part of the bailey near the stables. “And, I cannae disagree with ye because ye have just spoken aloud all I have been thinking. Yet, curse it, Ilsa, if it does mean the killer is still here—”

  “He or she has been here all along. And managed to poison me when Diarmot and my brothers were here to help ye, er, watch o’er me. I dinnae think it will make much difference if ye ride off, for a few hours e’en. The danger is still within the keep. Dinnae forget, I have the women to watch my back.”

  “I could leave young Tom—”

  “Nay, take him. Ye need someone to watch your back. If that trouble at the cave wasnae an accident, our enemy has already revealed an utter lack of concern for anyone who gets in his way. Or, mayhap, a lack of patience. Who kens when he might decide that ye are in the way. Take Tom.”

  “I will return as quickly as possible,” he vowed, then strode away calling for Tom.

  Ilsa smiled faintly as she headed into the keep to clean away the dirt from the garden. Nanty was trying very hard to make sure nothing happened to her or the children while Diarmot was gone. The man’s sense of responsibility ran very deep. It was comforting even though it could cause him to be annoying at times.

  She sighed as she entered her bedchamber. Her instincts told her the maid was no more than a pawn. Considering how long she had been missing, there might not be any way to tell how she had died. That would make this possible murder a successful one, giving the killer the time he sought. That would be beyond irritating, Ilsa decided as she scrubbed her hands and face clean.

  As she patted her face dry with a soft linen cloth, Ilsa moved to look out the window at her ever improving garden. From here she could see the progress she was making. She could also see Geordie. The man looked around several times as he made his way toward the high walls that bordered the garden on two sides. Since no one could get up onto the walls from the garden, Ilsa was immediately suspicious. She gasped as Geordie walked to the far corner, then seemed to just disappear.

  Lacing up her gown as she ran, Ilsa made her way down the stairs and out into the garden as quickly as she could. It was not until she was in the same place she had last seen Geordie that she saw how he had managed to slip from view so completely. Hidden by a gnarled apple tree was a thick door set in the wall. It was a lovely old door with intricate carvings upon it, but it was also a deadly weakness in Diarmot’s wall. She had to wonder how Diarmot had missed it or, if he did know about it, why he had allowed it to remain.

  Ilsa took a deep breath, eased open the door, and found herself facing a stone wall. It took her a moment to see that she had to move sideways, that an attempt had been made to hide the door with an irregularity in the wall. Once at the edge of the wall, she peered around it and looked for Geordie. The man was just disappearing down the far side of the rise upon which Clachthrom was set.

  A dozen thoughts raced through
her mind. She should find someone to go with her as she followed Geordie. Geordie could be the traitor. The man could be dangerous. If he was meeting the one who was trying to kill Diarmot, both men could be dangerous. If she did not hurry, he would be impossible to follow, and whatever answer to their mystery he might provide would be lost.

  Lifting up her skirts slightly, Ilsa hurried after him. Once he was on the far side of the rise, he made no attempt to watch out for anyone following him. Nonetheless, Ilsa did her best to stay out of sight, but she had to wonder if his behavior was a sign of arrogance or of innocence. When he stopped at a small, roughly built shelter and brought out a sturdy pony, she cursed. Although the pony would not be able to go very fast with such a large man upon its back, it would still require her to move a lot faster to keep up with him.

  Geordie looked around once, mounted the pony, and trotted away. She waited only a moment before hurrying after him. She was just beginning to think she would have to give up the chase when he reined in before a small cottage. A beautiful black mare waited there and, as Ilsa slumped against a tree to catch her breath, she knew whoever Geordie was about to meet had to have a comfortably full purse. Such a horse was not a poor man’s mount.

  A woman shrouded in a cloak answered Geordie’s rap at the door. When Geordie pulled the woman into his arms, kissing her even as he pushed her back inside the cottage and shut the door behind them, Ilsa cursed. She had exhausted herself to discover a tryst. Just to be certain that really was all it was, Ilsa sat down and leaned against the trunk of the tree to watch the cottage. No one else came or went and, at what Ilsa decided was about an hour, Geordie came back outside.

  The woman was heavily cloaked yet again, which Ilsa found a little odd. Geordie’s leave-taking was not affectionate, either. No kisses, no lingering glances, no touching. Either the lovers had had an argument or the love affair was growing cold. Geordie rode back toward Clachthrom and, after watching him for a while, the woman walked back inside the cottage and slammed the door. As Ilsa started on the long journey home she did not rush, and tried to convince herself that it had not been an utter waste of her time. She had discovered a door that, although cleverly disguised, was a serious breach in Diarmot’s protective walls. Ilsa hoped Nanty had a great deal more luck than she had had.

  Nanty held a cloth over his nose and tried desperately not to disgrace himself by becoming ill. The maid had obviously died shortly after she had disappeared. A shallow grave had not been quite enough to protect her from all the carrion, small and large. It was impossible to tell at a glance how she might have died. A closer inspection might tell him more, but Nanty was not sure he could stomach it.

  “Tis the lass ye have been looking for?” asked the father of the boy who had fetched Nanty.

  “Aye,” replied Nanty. “The hair and the gown match what the women all told me to look for. She is also missing the third finger on her right hand, the result of a rather nasty childhood accident.”

  “We can wrap the poor lass in a blanket, put her in the cart, and take her to be buried. Unless she has people who will be wanting her body.”

  “Nay, no people, Duncan. We shall do as ye suggest in a few moments. I must see if there is any sign of how she died.” He grimaced and started to kneel down only to have the older man grab him by the arm and pull him back up onto his feet.

  “I will do it, lad,” said Duncan.

  “Tis my duty,” began Nanty.

  “By the look upon your face, ye willnae do much looking ere ye empty your belly all o’er the lass’s body. I have a strong stomach and nay much sense of smell. What are ye looking for?” he asked even as he knelt by the maid’s body.

  “Some sign that she didnae die of natural causes, of a fall or the like.”

  “Och, aye, there is a sign, right enough. Throat was cut.”

  “Are ye certain?”

  “Verra certain. A big, deep cut from ear to ear, poor lass. Whoever wielded the knife had a strong hand. Didnae need such a vicious cut to kill such a wee lass with her having such a wee throat.” Duncan stood up and brushed himself off. “Was that what ye were looking for?”

  “Aye.” Nanty sighed. “I wish we hadnae found it, but, aye, tis what I was looking for.”

  “Do ye ken who would have killed the poor lass?”

  “I fear I dinnae, but I do mean to find out. My brother, the laird, will, too.”

  Nanty managed to gain control of his uneasy stomach long enough to help Duncan and Tom get the maid’s body into the cart. He and Tom then followed Duncan and his son to the church. It eased Nanty’s embarrassment over his own weak stomach when Father Goudie had the same trouble. After burying the maid, Nanty joined Father Goudie in his rooms at the rear of the small stone church.

  “I would have thought ye weel accustomed to death,” Nanty said after watching Father Goudie take a very hearty drink of wine.

  “Death from illness,” Father Goudie said. “Death from old age, from an accident, and a rare hanging or two. I have been blessed by peace for near all my life. Few battle deaths. This, this slaughter of a young lass? Nay, this isnae something I have dealt with before.” He shivered. “And most of the bodies I see are, weel, fresh.”

  “Ah, aye, that was most unpleasant.”

  “This has to do with your brother’s troubles, aye?”

  “I believe so. This was the young maid who went missing on the day Ilsa was poisoned. Either she was taken away and murdered simply to make us turn our attention on her or she had some part in the poisoning and was killed so that she wouldnae chance to reveal anything. This is all so devious, with twists and turns and unknowns. I am nay good at this. Give me an enemy who spits right in my eye and faces me sword in hand and I ken what to do. This? In this, I stumble at every turn.” He shook his head. “If I e’er find the one behind all of this, I swear I will gut him simply for being so cursed troublesome.”

  “Or her.”

  “Ah, of course. Although, a woman didnae do this. Of that much, at least, I am certain. As Duncan said, the hand that made that cut was a strong one.” He finished his wine and stood up. “Tis best I return to the keep now,”

  “Aye, ye shouldnae leave her ladyship alone, unguarded, for too long, and the sun is setting. Twill be dark ere long,” said Father Goudie as he walked Nanty to the front of the church.

  “Weel, I wouldnae say she was unguarded, nay with Gay, Glenda, Jenny, and Fraser all watching out for her.”

  “But they are women.”

  Nanty grinned. “Aye, they are. Weel, two of them are nay much more than girls. But they watch her verra weel. Tisnae their ability to guard Ilsa that worries me for I ken they will do as weel as any mon.”

  “Then what does worry ye?”

  “My brother’s wife isnae verra good at staying where she is put.”

  Ilsa slipped back into the garden and breathed a sigh of relief. Getting back inside Clachthrom unseen was not as easy as getting out. The men upon the walls were watching all approaches very carefully, as they should. Since she did not wish to be caught outside alone, she had had to be very careful. The dread of enduring another lecture from Nanty had been very inspiring.

  As she walked through the gardens, something drew her attention. She frowned slightly as she picked up a small wooden horse from beneath a rose bush. It was Alice’s favorite toy, one carved for her by young Tom. The girl never went anywhere without it. Ilsa tucked it into the small leather bag she wore at her waist and hurried toward the keep. It could be that Alice had dropped the toy and had simply not yet noticed it was missing, but it made Ilsa uneasy.

  She stepped into the nursery, smiled absently at Fraser and Glenda and looked around. Odo, Aulay, Ivy, Gregor, and Ewart were all present, quietly playing with their toys. The twins, Alice, and Gay were the only ones missing. Ilsa sternly told herself that that was not unusual as she sat down on a padded stool near Glenda and Fraser. As she touched the little bag holding Alice’s horse, she felt an odd increasing chill
, however.

  “And where have ye been?” asked Fraser, frowning with a hint of severity. “Gay was looking for ye.”

  “Why? Was something troubling the twins?” Ilsa asked, reluctant to tell Fraser what she had been doing. Fraser was as fond of lecturing her as Nanty and she did it far better than he did.

  “Nay. She wanted to take the bairns into the garden. She got that maid Lucy to help her take them outside. Alice went along as weel. Gay was hoping that ye might join them there later.”

  “Fraser, I was just in the garden and didnae see any of them.”

  “Ye would have had to see them or meet them as they returned here.”

  “I did neither,” Ilsa said as she stood up and headed toward the door.

  Fraser rose to follow. “Odo, Ivy, watch the young ones,” she ordered when Glenda moved to join her.

  Ilsa did not wait for the two older women, but raced down to the gardens. It did not surprise her, however, when they were only a few steps behind her as she entered the garden. In silent agreement, they began to search the garden, although Ilsa suspected they were as uncertain about what they looked for as she was.

  “O’er here,” called Glenda.

  Fraser fell into step beside her as Ilsa hurried toward Glenda. The woman was crouched down on the far side of the raised herb garden, bending over something on the ground. Ilsa gasped when she saw that it was a bound and gagged Gay. She fell to her knees beside Gay even as Glenda removed the gag on Gay’s mouth and Fraser untied the ropes binding her thin wrists together behind her back, then her ankles.