"I'm sure he's not still annoyed with you," Carissa said slyly, her gray eyes full of mischief. "Maybe you should go and talk to him." Carissa, it had become clear, was a hopeless romantic. It hadn't taken her long to reveal that she was determined to find Sarah a match among the MacLeod men. For Sarah, who was interested in just about anything else more than she was interested in romance, this determination was a little grating… though if it had to be anyone, she didn't mind it being Kieran. He was easy on the eye, at least… even if he was insufferably stubborn and short-sighted…
"I'll see him tomorrow, when he's rested," Sarah said with a shrug. That was an old trick she'd learned long ago – never confront someone with an apology when they were tired. They were a hundred times more likely to hold onto the grudge if they weren't well-rested. And from the looks of him, Kieran would need about a week's worth of sleep before he was back to normal.
Still, when she headed back to her room at the end of the night, she couldn't help but feel a prickle of anticipation when she thought about talking to him the next day. Undressing, she found her mind straying back to their last conversation. This one would be more useful, she decided. She'd take him a peace offering of some baked goods, explain that she knew more now about what he was facing, that she was even willing to help him out… some advice and insight from her, in exchange for a promise to help her track down DeBeers as soon as it was safe and convenient to do so…
She was so immersed in rehearsing this conversation that she barely heard the sounds of shouting from the castle courtyard, dismissing it as part of the dream she was slipping into. It wasn't until she sat bolt upright in bed that she realized that the sounds she was hearing were no dream – that the room was lit not by the fireplace at the end of the room, but by flames that were licking under her doorway.
Chapter 11
Calm in a crisis. She put it on all her resumes and job applications – because it was true. Ever since she'd been little, Sarah had been taught to keep her head when things got chaotic around her. And that calm was the only thing that saved her now, as she realized with a lurch that the thick smell of smoke had been in her nostrils for quite some time. What time was it? How late was it? And how had the castle caught on fire, exactly? All of these questions crowded her mind, but she pushed them back, keeping her focus clear and calm. Step one – get some protective layers on. She dressed quickly, including wrapping a piece of cloth over her mouth and nose, winding it around her head. She kept her eyes on the flames, which were still small but getting bigger. Step two – open the window to help with the smoke. She pushed open the shutters to her window – and something caught her eye outside. Torchlight, down below, on the water… little flames in the distance, flickering through the darkness. For a moment, she didn't understand how that could be possible… until her eyes adjusted, and she realized, with brief irritation with her own shortsightedness, that there were boats down there.
Boats? In the middle of the night? With torches? No, not all torches – as she watched, wide-eyed, she saw a little point of flame suddenly take off, arcing up through the darkness toward the castle… and striking it from some distance away. Her eyes widened and she turned back to her doorway, suddenly putting the pieces together. Somehow, there were people down in those little boats, firing on the castle with flaming arrows. She hastened over to her door, testing the metal handle quickly to ensure it wasn't superheated – she'd seen more than a few third-degree burns caused by that kind of mistake in situations like this one. Thankfully, the metal was cool, reassuring her that the fire wasn't too bad. Not yet, at any rate.
She pulled the door open to discover the fire. Sure enough, the window in the hallway was open, and her eyes shifted to the flames, discovering a mostly-burned arrow amongst the embers of what had been a thick rug that lay outside her door. It was a good thing she'd woken up when she did – the fire was on its way to threatening a tapestry that hung on the wall, and who knew how much further it could have gotten? Not to mention the dangers of smoke inhalation. She stamped the fire out with the soles of her boots, exhaling with relief when the last of the embers died… then she hastened to close the shutters on the window, aware that the boats were still down there in the water.
Now that she was awake, she could hear the distant sounds of shouting. She headed back into her room and peered through the window, where she could just make out activity down below – guards, many of them holding torches themselves, were headed down to the rocks, pointing and shouting at the little boats that were launching the rather pathetic attack. What was the plan? she wondered, frowning. Would a few flaming arrows really be likely to do much damage to the castle? As she watched, she could see the boats fleeing, the little points of torchlight rapidly moving away down the coast… but she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the hall outside.
The door burst open. Kieran MacLeod himself stood there, breathing hard, his eyes wild and illuminated by the light of the lantern in his hand. Glad that she'd thought to get dressed before fighting the fire, she turned to greet him – but he cut her off with a surprising amount of fear in his voice.
"Sarah! Are you alright? What happened?"
"I'm just fine," she said quickly, unwinding the piece of cloth from her face, surprised by how worried he seemed. "I woke up to the smell of smoke – found a fire chewing on my door." She headed across the room to show him, pushing the door open to gesture to the scorched rug outside her door and the remains of the arrow that had set the blaze. "There it is. Or the remains of it, anyway. Might need a new rug, but at least I saved the tapestry."
Kieran exhaled, lowering the lantern a little. "I was worried."
"I'm fine," she said again, raising an eyebrow with amusement. "It was just a little fire. I've seen worse in my apartment when I get ambitious with my cooking. What are you doing up here?"
Kieran looked suddenly evasive, but she wasn't letting him get away with barging in on her like this. "We received word of little boats attacking the castle," he explained stiffly, gesturing toward the cliffs.
She nodded. "I saw them from my window. Bandits?"
"Aye, we suspect so. Incredibly bold of them, to launch an attack on the castle like that. Probably hoping to scare us… weren't counting on the watch spotting them and chasing them away." He grinned, his features handsome in the lantern light. "But when I was down there on the rocks, I saw that a fire had caught in this wing of the castle."
"And you came to check on it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or on me?"
"I may have recalled that this was the wing you were stationed in," Kieran said stiffly. It might have been a trick of the lantern, but was he blushing? "I was concerned that you might have been locked in your room. You know, to stop you charging out into danger at the first opportunity –"
"A purely professional interest, of course," she said drily. But part of her couldn't help but feel… something like exhilaration. He'd been worried about her. He'd come charging up here to make sure she was safe. To protect her. It seemed the gruff guard captain had a softer side after all.
"I'm impressed with your handling of the fire," he said gruffly now, almost physically retreating from her as though suddenly realizing that they were alone in her bedroom together in the dead of night.
Would there be gossip about this? she wondered. If it made its way back to Carissa she'd never hear the end of it… and it did seem like the castle was awake, with the distant sound of shouts and voices indicating that people were discovering more evidence of the bandits' attack.
"Some people might have panicked. The whole wing could have gone up."
"I caught it early," she said with a shrug. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell between them… not awkward, exactly, but full of hesitation. They both had things they needed to say to each other, it seemed, and Kieran sighed heavily and took a seat at the little table in her room.
"I owe you an apology," he said abruptly. "For the other morning. I was dismissive of you, of
your concerns. I ought to have heard you out."
She exhaled, suddenly feeling all her lingering frustration with him disappear. That was the thing about her – she may have been stubborn and easily angered, but she was also an absolute pushover when it came to wanting to be on good terms with people. Her anger was so easily extinguished by an apology that it was almost laughable, and she felt a smile spreading across her face as she sat opposite him on her bed. "I was going to apologize, too."
"Oh, aye? For yelling at me?" he asked, an eyebrow quirking.
She suppressed a laugh. "That wasn't yelling," she told him archly. "You'll know when I yell at you." She took a deep breath. "But – no. I didn't give you a chance to explain why you were reluctant to go after DeBeers. And when I spoke to Maria later, she explained about the bandits." She didn't mention that it would have made more sense for him to explain the bandits to her – not to mention saving them a great deal of time. He was a man of few words; that was what she was beginning to learn. And he'd apologized. That went a long way with her.
"Aye, they've been a plague and a pestilence all summer," he said heavily, scrubbing at his forehead. "And the audacity of attacking the castle like this… Laird Cameron was down there," he said, an amused glint in his eyes. "I've never seen him so ropable in all my days. Wouldn't be surprised if he commandeered a vessel and set sail after them."
"You've known the Laird for a while?"
"Aye, all my life. We're kin. Cousins, or our cousins are cousins, or… something." He shrugged, drawing a smile from her. "He's a good man. A fine Laird."
"He thinks the same of you," she said, smiling a little. "And so does his wife." She tilted her head, looking at him closely. "She also thinks the two of us might have a lot in common."
"She does, does she?" He didn't sound convinced.
She grinned. "Well, she said we're both as stubborn as each other…" That drew a laugh from him, and she pressed on a little. "I'd like to get to know you better, Kieran. I think I might have something to offer you."
His gray eyes widened a little in the low light of the room, and she cleared her throat, realizing that what she'd said might be easily misconstrued.
"I mean – professionally, of course. I was a professional detective back in Boston, I traveled the world doing it – I could have some useful insight for you when it comes to these – these bandits." She was rambling, she could feel it, and her cheeks were flushing… thankfully, the low light in the room was hiding the worst of it. "At any rate, it can be useful to talk to someone with an outside perspective, right?"
"Aye, that's true enough," he acknowledged.
What was it about his voice that was so pleasant? It was low and rumbling, textured almost, like bark… she felt a strange need to coax more speech from him, to hear more of that pleasant voice. Not an easy job. He didn't strike her as much of a talker... but she'd never met a challenge she didn't like.
"And I'll admit I'm interested in your life, Sarah Elway. Hunting a jewel thief across the world…"
"Don't forget presumably murderous." She laughed. "It's a lot less glamorous than it sounds. Ninety-nine percent traveling around, hoping to get lucky."
He sighed. "Sounds familiar," he said heavily. "I've spent the last three days on the road trying to find the ringleaders of these bandits, to no avail."
"Let's talk about it," she said firmly. "Let me be – I don't know, a consultant. Someone to brainstorm with. An ally," she said with a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. "Instead of a woman who comes marching into your guardhouse to shout at you."
"That sounds good to me," he said softly, a smile on his face. "Though from what my men have been saying, the last few visits you brought baked goods. I wouldn't have been so grouchy that first day if you'd thought to do that…"
She rolled her eyes. "Get out of my room, Kieran MacLeod."
He obeyed, that grin still playing about his eyes as he bade her a goodnight. They made plans to have lunch together in the dining hall the next day, and when she tucked herself back into bed, she couldn't help feeling giddy… for all the world as though she had a date. But that was ridiculous. She hadn't looked forward to a date in years… not since high school, if not before. It was getting closer to DeBeers that was making her feel good, that was all, she told herself firmly. Befriending Kieran would help her get her man; that was why she was excited. Married to the job. That was all it was.
Still, he really was handsome…
Chapter 12
In the end, she slept through breakfast. It made sense, with her night of disturbed sleep as a result of the fire in the hallway, but when she woke up she felt bleary and irritable. She dressed quickly, interested to find out what had been happening in the night since the attack from the bandits had been discovered… and it wasn't long before she was inundated with castle gossip. Reports varied wildly about how many bandits there had been – some said one boat, others suggested that an entire armada had sailed up the coast to attack them – but in terms of damage to the castle, it was agreed to be minimal. A few windows had had an arrow or two fly through them, but it seemed the biggest fire caused had been the one outside of her room – and the only damage there was a scorched rug and a few burn marks underneath her door.
A souvenir, she decided, grinning a little. A bit of excitement; that was all. But the attack was a little sobering. It brought the reality of the bandits home to her in a way that it just hadn't been by gossip and her own little hand-drawn map of the area. There were men out there – dangerous men, men who were happy to threaten the safety of the castle if it meant they got what they wanted. And frustratingly enough, they were what stood between her and the dangerous man she was determined to capture. But that wasn't going to stop her. She was a detective – a detective who'd always wanted to be a cop. Always wanted to serve and protect, to help people feel safe in their homes, to punish wrongdoing where she could.
She'd just never expected to be doing it in medieval Scotland. But if that was the hand that life was going to deal her, she supposed she'd just have to go ahead and play.
As promised, Kieran met her for lunch, looking a little less bedraggled than he had the night before. It seemed he'd had a chance to get a bit of rest and change his clothes, though the shadows under his eyes were still dark, and she could tell his body was still crying out for a bit more rest. Hopefully, he wouldn't go charging off on another three-day mission, she reflected. Not when she'd finally managed to sort of befriend him. They had things to discuss – and they couldn't exactly talk if he was off riding across the whole length and breadth of the Isle of Skye in search of bandits.
He filled her in, over lunch, on what had been going on with the bandits – this time in much more detail than the brief synopsis she'd received from Maria. It seemed that contrary to Sarah's suspicions, there were multiple groups of bandits, with no central leader. At least half a dozen different groups, maybe more – something to do with a poor harvest in neighboring counties leading to a number of men turning to crime to keep themselves alive.
The group that had attacked the castle, though, Kieran suspected were a specific bunch he'd had encounters with before. Their leader was a man named Mulvaney, and they'd mostly restricted themselves to highway robberies over the last few weeks since Kieran had had a run-in with them.
"I've no idea why they'd attack the castle, though," he said heavily, rubbing his face with his hands. "It's a damn fool move even from someone with twice the manpower – and you saw yourself how little damage it did."
"Is it possible they were trying to distract you?" she asked thoughtfully. "Get your forces spread out thin so they could launch another attack?"
He barked laughter. "Our forces couldn't be spread any more thinly even if I tried," he said, shaking his head heavily. "At this point I'm praying for an early winter just to freeze some of these men off the road."
"It's manpower you're short of?"
"Oh, aye. We've been recruiting lads from th
e village, but there's only so many young men – and I'm reluctant to send unseasoned soldiers out on the road."
"Well, I can help. A little, anyway," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Sign me up."
"As what?"
"As a guard." She narrowed her eyes at the utterly nonplussed expression on his face. "What? I can fight, I've got decades of experience –"
"I don't know how the men would feel about having a woman in their ranks, that's all," he said.
She bit her lip, feeling her temper flare up again and fighting it back down. He hadn't said no – and she knew from experience that if she reacted in a combative way, he was likely to shut down completely. And she wanted them to stay friends. She was very much enjoying this lunch with the quiet captain.
"I think they'd get used to it," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "I can ride a horse, and I'm willing to learn to use a sword, if you'll teach me." His expression was closed, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. "Just think about it, okay?"
"Aye, I can do that," he said, looking up at her with a pleased smile on his face. He, too, had been expecting a fight, there.
She couldn't help but feel smug at having outwitted him. She might have been just as stubborn and bullheaded as he was… but she was clever, too, and she knew how to manipulate situations to her own advantage.
They ended up eating dinner together that night, too, and this time conversation didn't stay strictly on their professional lives. They ended up joined by Carissa and her husband Hugh, and though Sarah made a point of avoiding all of her friend's knowing glances, she had to admit – if only in the privacy of her own mind – that it was rather a pleasant evening. Almost like a double date.
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