Highlander Betrayed (Guardians of the Targe)

by Wittig, Laurin

  Just as he began to wonder where Rowan was, she came out of the tower. She looked tired, or maybe it was concern that laid the shadows under her eyes. She whispered something to Jeanette and Lady Elspet. Jeanette looked at her mother, but the Lady shook her head and nodded at the pony. Rowan squared her shoulders, her eyes snapped with anger but her chin quivered—perhaps with sadness, or perhaps with pique, he could not tell, but it made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss away whatever bothered her. The passion that had started with their kiss in the tower and then built in his dreams slammed into him and he fought the need go to her and kindle that fire again. His body rebelled, but this wasn’t the time.

  There might never be a time.

  He was surprised by a deep sadness that threatened to swamp him at that realization. There might never be a time, and it would be his fault, his responsibility, his treachery that made that true.

  As he watched the women clearly preparing for an outing, he pushed away the distracting feelings seeing Rowan raised in him and focused on what the other women were doing.

  He could not fathom where Lady Elspet would be going in her state of illness. She had clearly been overwhelmed from performing the blessing and had not left her solar since. He leaped off his rocky perch and strode over to the women, carefully not looking at Rowan lest his desire outwit his need for information.

  As he arrived, the stable lad set a step next to the pony, and Jeanette and Scotia helped Lady Elspet to mount. Her cloak snagged on the back of the saddle long enough to reveal a quick glimpse of the ermine sack. Black-tipped white tails that hung from the mouth of the pouch flashed in the bright sunlight, a detail he had not noticed at the blessing. Jeanette quickly arranged the cloak around her mother, tucking it about her legs. Whether she did so to keep her mother warm or to keep him from getting a closer look at the pouch, he couldn’t say, but she accomplished both.

  “Off so early in the morn?” he asked.

  “We are off to visit Mum’s cousin,” Jeanette said, but she didn’t look him in the eye and Rowan busied herself with the plaid she carried, shaking it out before she and Jeanette settled it around Elspet. The three young women positioned themselves protectively around the Lady’s mount and moved slowly toward the gate.

  The urge to reach out and touch Rowan’s hand, to hear her voice again, confounded him. He was no lovesick boy, but a man well used to the wooing of women without the trouble that came with having true feelings for them. But he could not shake the desire that threaded through every thought he had, every dream he’d had of Rowan.

  Against his better judgment, he stepped forward to follow the women just as Rowan glanced back over her shoulder at him, her auburn brows drawn down into a deep vee over her pale leaf-green eyes. She shook her head slightly, but the message was clear. Where they went, he was not to follow.

  Nicholas stood in the middle of the bailey, frustration drumming through him as the women and the ermine pouch headed through the gate. He took a step to follow them, then stopped, taking a deep breath to calm his thoughts. He could not act without a plan no matter how torn he was between the itch to follow them and perhaps get his hands on that pouch, and the need to invest in Duncan’s trust by staying put.

  He looked once more at the gate, then at the tower, then back at the gate. The urge to follow was strong, but the women were moving slowly and would not be hard to track if he could find a way to leave the castle without causing himself trouble. He turned away from the gate, his mind quickly running through ideas and just as quickly discarding them as unworkable.

  He was moving toward the steps to the rampart, thinking at least to determine which direction the women were going, when the tower door opened and a buxom brown-haired woman of indeterminate age stepped into his path lugging a heavy bucket of ashes. Not one to miss an opportunity to ingratiate himself to someone who might have information he needed, he postponed his trip to the wall and gave her his most winning smile.

  “May I help you with that, mistress…?” He lifted the bucket from her hand before she could decide.

  “Helen,” she said, deep dimples appearing in her round cheeks. “You would be the new man working with Uilliam and Duncan.”

  “I am. Nicholas of Achnamara, at your service.” He carefully did not accompany the familiar words with the equally familiar flamboyant court bow. “Where shall I take this for you?”

  “Over this way,” she said, leading him around the corner of the tower and to the ashbin.

  He flirted with her as he dumped the dusty ashes on the pile, handed her the bucket back and watched the sway of her hips as she returned to the tower. He mulled over how he might use Helen to gain legitimate access to the tower.

  “You need not leer at the lass, cub.”

  Nicholas wasn’t really surprised to find Uilliam leaning against the base of the curtain wall not far away and was very glad he’d followed his instincts to help Helen, rather than to watch the women leave from the ramparts. It would not do to give away his interest in what they were about this day.

  “I do not think the lass minds me watching her walk away,” he said, raising his eyebrows in a teasing challenge, but Uilliam said nothing. Nicholas looked back in Helen’s direction as she disappeared through the tower door, then back at Uilliam, whose attention was as riveted to the lass’s hips as Nicholas’s had been. Interesting…

  An idea, oft used and nearly always successful in one way or another, presented itself, wrapped up like a present in the guise of Helen. Perhaps, if he played this right, there was a way to follow Rowan and the other women.

  “Is there something you need of me?” Nicholas asked as he moved toward Uilliam.

  “Nay,” the bear said, not taking his eyes off of where Helen had gone.

  “Duncan said ’twas too muddy to move more of the wall today,” Nicholas said. “Is there aught else for me to do?”

  “Nay, not for you.”

  Nicholas nodded, letting the silence spin out between them as they both kept watch on the tower door.

  “Are you here to keep an eye on me in Duncan’s stead then?” Nicholas asked.

  Uilliam grunted in answer. Perhaps Uilliam or Kenneth hadn’t been pleased with Duncan’s decision to allow him to accompany Rowan to the tower last night.

  Nicholas leaned his back against the cool stone wall next to Uilliam. He cast his gaze out over the bailey, watching as the castle came to life and people wandered toward the great hall to break their fast. Nicholas waited for the other man to relax, just slightly, before he spoke again.

  “Do you have a problem with me helping Helen?”

  Uilliam glared over at him. “Should I?”

  Nicholas worked hard to keep from smiling. “If I fancied the lass, you should.”

  “She would not go for the likes of a wandering Sassenach.”

  “Really? Not even a braw Sassenach like me?”

  “Definitely not.” Uilliam said. “And do not try to change her mind, either.”

  “So you have no issue with me helping her, only with me helping myself to her?”

  A low growl rumbled through the man, not unlike the sound of the bear he so resembled. Nicholas held up his hands as if surrendering his position. “She is a bonny, happy lass, Uilliam, but my eye goes more for tall, auburn-haired lasses.”

  Uilliam stared at him for a long moment as if gauging the truth of Nicholas’s words.

  “Which reminds me,” Nicholas added, pushing away from the wall, “do you ken where Rowan has gone?”

  Uilliam shook his head, but Nicholas didn’t think it was in answer to his question.

  “Duncan says you have already caught her eye.” He glared down at Nicholas. “Hurt her in any way and I guarantee you shall regret it.”

  Nicholas’s conscience kicked him but he ignored it. A conscience had no place in a spy’s life.

  “I have no intention of hurting her.” It was the truth, though some things were out of his control—like the passion
that flared every time they kissed, or the reason he was here in the first place.

  “Kenneth cares little what your good intentions are. Actions are what he is looking at. Do not let the chief down by dallying with his niece.”

  Nicholas nodded. Oddly he did not want to promise this man something he could not. “So you do not ken where the lasses and Lady Elspet have gone this morning?”

  “Lady Elspet has left the castle?” He pushed off the wall, rounding on Nicholas.

  “Aye, with her daughters and Rowan. They said they were off to visit a cousin but I thought it very odd, given how frail the Lady seems.”

  Uilliam’s shaggy brows drew so low his eyes disappeared. “ ’Tis not your place to question Elspet. If the lasses are with her, she will be fine. Jeanette would not let her go anywhere if she thought ’twould harm her.”

  Nicholas thought Uilliam underestimated his Lady’s will, but it was not his place to tell him so. Time to divert the man’s attention again. “Well, since I have naught else to do this day, perhaps I shall see if Helen needs more help. ’Twill keep me out of trouble, aye?”

  “Stay away from Helen, mon.”

  “I only mean to help the lass.”

  “She shall do fine without it.”

  “I do not know. If I cannot find Rowan,” he grinned, “perhaps I shall have to see if I can woo Helen’s attentions away from—”

  “Rowan is gone from the castle. If your interest is so easily turned to another lass you should stay clear of her.”

  Nicholas laughed at the man’s blustering. “I am but teasing you, Uilliam.”

  He humphed, crossing his massive arms over his barrel chest. “Rowan is bound to be gone most of the day, but ’tis sure I am that she shall be back in time for you to test your smile upon her at the evening meal.”

  Nicholas grinned. “So you think she has not gone far, then. Perhaps I could catch up with her?”

  “You probably could, but clearly you were not invited, so do not go where you are not wanted.”

  “Are you saying the lass does not want me?”

  “Aye, ’tis exactly what I’m saying.”

  “I cannot believe it.” He feigned disbelief for he knew otherwise.

  “Rowan has no interest in you, nor does any other lass here, even if you see behavior to the contrary. They only want you to feel welcome, ’tis all.”

  Nicholas decided to stop tormenting the man. Perhaps he was ready to be rid of the annoying Nicholas now.

  “Is the fishing any good in the loch?”

  “Aye.”

  “Unless there is aught I can do here for you… or Helen…” He slanted a sly look at Uilliam. “Would you give me leave to try my hand at it?”

  Helen came out of the tower door again and came toward them, another bucket of ashes in her hand. She smiled at Nicholas as if she was a knowing party to his plan and he made sure Uilliam saw him grin at her.

  “Go fishing, lad.”

  Nicholas forced himself to appear torn between staying and going. “I do not know. Is there gear I can borrow?”

  “You can have mine if you will but leave me be.”

  “Fair trade.”

  “Hmph.”

  Nicholas followed Uilliam to the hut near the damaged wall site where he had sheltered from the rain yesterday. He stood outside making a point to keep Helen in his sight just to poke the man a bit more to insure he wanted Nicholas gone from the castle.

  “You need not watch Helen so intently,” Uilliam growled as he shoved a fishing pole and a basket into Nicholas’s hands. He gave Nicholas a mighty shove toward the gate. “Walk a mile along the lochside that way”—he pointed straight through the castle gate—“and you’ll find a pile of boulders reaching out into the water. ’Tis a good place to spend a long day.”

  Nicholas clapped Uilliam on the back and did as he was bade before the man realized he had sent him without Duncan as chaperone. He quickly covered the distance from the gate to the loch, then continued until he found the place Uilliam had recommended. He checked to make sure he was not followed by anyone, then found a downed log to hide the fishing gear behind. He grinned to himself. Uilliam had given him the perfect alibi for slipping away for the whole day.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT DID NOT take much work to find the pony’s tracks on the path that skirted the edge of the woods, though Nicholas took care to keep within the shadowy verge and out of sight of any who might be watching from the castle wall. Once the trail turned up the ben it was harder to see the tracks on the rocky ground but he could not shake the sense that he was surely following the women.

  It was a silly notion, but he followed the instinct nonetheless and every so often he’d catch sight of a pony track, or the less distinctive print of a soft leather brogue that assured him he was indeed on the trail of the MacAlpin women.

  He began to relax and enjoy the sounds of the birds around him, the distant rough calls of at least three carrion crows, the nearer warble of some small bird high in the treetops. A red squirrel scolded behind him on the trail, drawing his attention. Red squirrels were the clarion of a forest, alerting all and sundry when something was amiss in their territory, yet none had fussed with the women’s passing, not too far ahead of Nicholas’s position, nor at Nicholas’s passing, so why now?

  He erred on the side of caution and slipped off the trail into the dense undergrowth, crouching low in the deep shadow of a large bush. Moments later a hooded man came up the trail and stopped just where Nicholas had stepped into the wood. He looked left, then right. He studied the ground for a moment, then stepped into the woods. Nicholas struggled not to grind his teeth, not wanting to give himself away with any sound.

  After a long moment the man dropped the hood of his cloak back on his shoulders, revealing close-cropped hair the color of dull copper. Archie.

  “I know you are here, Nicholas. Show yourself.”

  Nicholas rose slowly, grinning. “I am off my game if you found me so easily.”

  “I know all your tricks.” Archie grinned back at him. “How fares Nicholas of Achnamara? Have you found the prize yet?”

  Had he? Nicholas knew he should report the possibility that the sack Lady Elspet carried might be important to them, but the bloody echoes of his dream and the unexpected feelings for Rowan kept him silent. “I have found nothing of worth yet.”

  Archie watched him, the grin replaced with a scowl. “Time grows short. I have sent word to the king where we are, and that the castle wall is breached. He will be expecting the successful completion of our mission soon.”

  “It has only been a sennight. I am being watched carefully.”

  Archie’s face blanched. “I saw no one following you.”

  “Not at this moment, but this is the first time I have been unsupervised since the wall fell.”

  “And how exactly did rescuing those wenches help our cause? We had a plan, yet you acted rashly, suddenly. It was not what we had agreed to.”

  Even though what Archie said was true, Nicholas found his ire rising. “I could not watch Rowan and Scotia be crushed when it could be helped.”

  “Rowan and Scotia? You speak of them as if they are friends already.”

  “Nay, not friends, but useful.” He told Archie who they were and how his deed had gotten him the grant of hospitality, even if it was cautious hospitality.

  Archie nodded his head slowly, but his face didn’t agree.

  “Which one have you tupped so far?”

  Nicholas once more worked to keep from gritting his teeth. It was not as if they hadn’t both used such methods many times in the past to get information or access to someplace they couldn’t otherwise get to. Many a mission had been won thanks to pillow talk. But the idea of using Rowan so… it did not sit well. There was something about that woman that awoke his long-dormant conscience, but Archie need not know of Nicholas’s sudden weakness where Rowan was concerned.

  “I have not singled one out as of yet, and a
s I said, I have been kept on a short leash until not an hour past.”

  Archie nodded again. “And where were you headed, now that you have been released?”

  There was something in his voice that set alarms off in Nicholas’s gut. Surely Archie had seen the women heading up the mountain. It was almost as if he was fishing for a lie. The unexpected anger that had been simmering cooled abruptly as suspicion replaced it. Nicholas didn’t know what had changed with Archie but he must keep his wits about him until he could figure it out, for they had learned their trade together and no one could read Nicholas better than this man.

  “I was following the Lady of the castle and her daughters up the mountain. It seemed odd that they would leave when the Lady is ill,” and without a proper escort, nor even the knowledge of Uilliam that she had left the castle, he thought but did not say. “So I thought to discover what they were about. Plus, it seemed a good opportunity to rendezvous with you, if you were back.” That last hadn’t even crossed his mind, though he knew it should have been a priority.

  “Well, this is done. Let’s find the women and see what they are up to,” Archie said, the tiniest hint of a challenge in his attitude.

  Nicholas quickly sorted through his options and found he had none. “Aye, let’s, but you must not be seen. I can explain away my following them, especially if I take no pains to keep my presence secret from them, but it would be suspicious if I showed up with you.”

  “Fine. For now I’ll keep out of sight, but I’ll not spend the rest of this mission huddled in this God-forsaken wood.” He rubbed his hands together in a familiar gesture of excitement. “Let us hope the wenches lead us to this Highland Targe and we can be away with the prize this very day.”