Sean lifted the sprite in his arms. “Nay, your momma will awaken soon. I’m afraid Alice will not.”
“Aye, she’s very tired.”
“Aye, she is.” He pressed her close, giving her a quick hug, and then set her on her feet. “Now go with Mistress Ina. She’ll get you some food. And be a good lass.”
“What’s that?” Trudy pointed to something near the bed.
Sean jumped back and plucked Trudy from the floor, when a large spider crawled at the base of the bed. The thing was almost as large as his hand, hairy, and quite gruesome. He passed Trudy to Madam Ina, and took his sword and jabbed it until it moved no more.
“Take her from here. I need to check the chamber.”
“I’ll see to the keep, my lord. I’ll send you a bit of food. You must be ravenous after such a long night.” Mistress Ina carried Trudy, and left the chamber.
But Sean knew he wouldn’t be able to eat, not after such tormented night. He continued to search the chamber for any other dangers and found two other spiders as large as the one he’d killed. After dispatching them, he scooped the vile creatures up with a piece of parchment and put them in the box that lay on the floor. Once he had the box closed, the tossed it out the window.
He banked the fire in the hearth and went to peer outside. As he stood by the window casement, he couldn’t help thinking the banshee was out there somewhere and as he lived and breathed, he would find him.
Sean closed the window casement coverings because the day grew colder. It didn’t appear that it would snow again and the storm they’d had was a mite early for the season.
Frances moaned. Sean hastened to her bedside, and waited with baited breath. She opened her eyes then closed them.
“Frances.”
She breathed deeply, and opened her eyes again. “Jacob.”
“What say you? Jacob? What about Jacob?”
“He … attacked … me.”
Confusion riddled him. He couldn’t believe what she’d told him. “Jacob? Our Jacob? Are you certain?”
She nodded slightly. “Aye,” she said groggily. “He took me to the woods.”
“My love, you’re safe now. Rest and we’ll find him.”
She rolled to her side, and reached out to touch his hand to stop him from moving away. “Another … there’s another. He said someone was coming … who would kill … me.”
“Aye? Worry not. I’ll see to it. How do you feel?” Sean didn’t want her upset.
“Better. My head … is clearing but aches.”
“I must go, love. Rest and I will return. I’ll have Colm and Duff stand guard and protect you, but I have to find him.”
She nodded and closed her eyes.
Sean retreated to the main hall, and found his Gunn clansmen sitting silent and morose. “I know who attacked her.”
Each man stood and joined him at the entrance. After a barrage of questions, he bid Duff and Colm to see to Frances. He ignored their questions, intent only in finding his adversary.
He cared about her.
He loved her.
He wanted to protect her.
Jacob’s words came back to him, and he remembered what he’d said when they found Winifred. Sean realized that he’d been present when each lass was found. Aye, the man knew where they were, because he’d fucking put them there.
Grey followed him out the doorway as did Kenneth and James. They’d snatched their bows from the entrance, and Sean unsheathed his sword. His laird wore that expression, the one he’d only seen a few times, the one he’d worn when he gave him Lord William’s missive.
Sean’s gesture cued them in on his intent. They knew him well, and there was no need to explain. He marched with heavy feet down the steps and into the bailey.
“The entire keep was searched thoroughly, and no one found anyone with a bump on his head. Jacob, your steward, just returned and gave us a report.” Grey almost bumped into him when he stopped walking abruptly.
“He just left? Come, he’s who I am seeking.”
Kenneth matched his formidable stride, and hastened next to him. “Is he the one who harmed Frances?”
Sean only nodded. He headed toward the stables to where Jacob kept an office of sorts. His comrades were just as heated as he, and when they neared, several unsheathed their swords. But as they approached the stables, they saw Jacob running around the side of the building, and taking off toward the back of the keep’s walls.
James and Kenneth took arrows and set them in their bows. He wanted to get his bare hands on the man’s neck. Sean kept walking with hefty steps toward his enemy. The man continued to look back and knew they were after him.
“Don’t kill him,” he said to his comrades. “I want to be the one who does.”
Arrows flew at the banshee, the hum filling the air. Three arrows struck his shoulder, abdomen, and the third grazed his arm. As the fourth one hit his thigh, he fell to the ground. When Sean reached his body, he stood over him, glaring at the scratches on Jacob’s face.
More ire than he’d ever felt caused him to grip his sword. He badly wanted to thrust it and end the miscreant’s life. But there was something he needed to know before he did so.
“Who is the other?”
Jacob huffed at the pain of his wounds, his blood beginning to darken the snowy patch where he’d fallen. Sean wanted answers, and so he set his foot against the arrow embedded in his shoulder. He pressed it and caused the man to scream in pain.
“Who is the other?” he demanded once more.
“There is no other.” Jacob screamed again when Sean repeated the action on the arrow that stuck from his arm. The torment of the pain ripped through the man and the coward begged for mercy.
“Pray, don’t, please … please. I had no choice. I didn’t want to do it. He forced me.”
“She told me you said someone was coming to kill her. Who is he?” Sean applied pressure to his foot, sending racks of pain through his enemy at the wound on his abdomen. “Tell me now, and I’ll end your pain.”
Jacob’s eyes glazed. His life was fading, and Sean almost panicked because he needed the name before Jacob took the coward’s way out.
“Say it,” he said, gripping his bloody tunic. “Say his name.”
“My brother.” Jacob closed his eyes, his breath ceased. He was now in the hands of the devil who Sean hoped would take retribution on his soul.
Who in the hell was the man’s brother? Sean wasn’t aware he had family, but verily he didn’t know the man that well. How could he have been so trusting of him? Sean couldn’t help his next action. He gripped the arrows and tore them from his foe’s body. When he’d retrieved all four, he handed them back to James.
“He is not worthy of keeping your arrows,” he said to Kenneth and James, “Have him thrown off the nearest cliff so the wolves can ravage him. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” Grey shouted after him.
But Sean kept walking and didn’t offer an answer. It took a while for Sean to calm down. After walking outside the walls and in the adjacent fields, he kept going and ended up walking toward the village.
The lane along the way, covered with tall pines, kept the recent snows from reaching the road. He stepped between the ruts where cart wheels had deepened the ground.
The village should’ve bustled with activity, but he only saw a few women standing near a well. The men must still be hunting, for many of the villagers banded together to make do through the cold season.
Soon the shopkeepers would close for the day as the midday meal passed. He looked around disbelieving that such evil could exist in such a serene and peaceful place. Yet he knew evildoers pried on those they coveted.
And that thought sparked an image in his mind. Who besides Lord Lombard and Sir John coveted his wife? He knew of one man, but it didn’t make sense. Frances never mentioned a threat from him.
Sean got distracted when he turned and saw Alvin standing inside the doorway at the cottage a
t the end of the lane. He stepped toward him.
“I wish to reward you, lad, for aiding my lady.” The tall gangly lad stepped backward. “I’ve no means to harm you. What can I give you as a reward?”
“Nothing.”
“Aye, there’s got to be something.” Sean remembered what James’ said, of the talent the lad had. He pulled a dagger from his boot and held the handle toward Alvin.
“I cannot take it.”
“It’s yours. You can use it to whittle, for James told me of your skill. The dagger is a favorite of mine and is of value. I just replaced the leather on the handle, and it should keep for a while.”
The lad nodded and apprehensively took it from him.
Sean was about to walk away when he turned back. “Where I come from, we have a custom. When a lad reaches a certain age, they’re given a champion. From this day forward I will be yours.”
Alvin’s eyes widened. “My lord? I am … honored.”
“I’d like ye to come to the keep on the morrow. Will you?” He kept his distance from the anxious lad, knowing his aversion from those getting too close. James had related his run-in with him when Frances had gone to the miller’s.
Alvin agreed and he walked away. Sean wanted Alvin to reside at the Hume castle. The lad couldn’t be more than ten or eleven in age. He’d heard that he lived by himself and had no family. That would change on the morrow for they’d be his family.
When James told him about the lad, it reminded Sean of his own plight – when his mother and father died and he was alone. He’d been fortunate to have the Gunns take him as their own. Laird Michael treated him akin to a son and he’d never lacked attention or care. Sean meant to do that for Alvin. He’d give him a place of honor within the clan.
Sean wasn’t nearly as enraged when he returned to the keep. He knew somebody had to know who Jacob’s brother was. He reached the stables and did a thorough search of Jacob’s quarters. Nothing indicated who his family was. If he was a Hume, he had to be related to someone within the clan. Sean left the quarters and ran into Angus, the lad he’d taken as his own attendant.
“My lord, I just returned to give ye a report. Lombard and his steward are still traveling. I heard tell he went to England on a mission for the king and won’t return for more than a fortnight. Do ye want me to stay there and await their return?”
Sean had completely forgotten that he’d sent the lad to keep watch on Bantrum. “Nay, nay. Thanks, Angus.”
With his distraction, he’d dismissed the lad, and then realized Angus knew all within the Hume clan. “Angus, halt. I’ve some questions for you.”
He set down the bucket of oats he’d hefted and stood erect. “Aye, my lord?”
“Tell me about the steward, Jacob. Who is his family? Do they live here within the walls?”
“Don’t know. He came nigh on five years ago. I remember it well, because I’d just entered training and he had the garrison leader ban me from the field. He said it was because I was too scrawny. I was bid to the stables ever since. There was no position for him then for my lady’s husband, Lord Robert, was the steward. My lord trusted no one to see to the accounts but he.”
“What did he do?” Sean fisted his hands, as he’d put two and two together. “How’d he become the steward?”
The lad continued to ramble, “He did nothing. I recall he helped the garrison leader, old Joseph, who died that harsh winter. When my lady’s husband died, he took the role of steward. Lord William wasn’t around much, for he’d been in Edinburgh.”
Sean’s lips firmed at his conjecture. Aye, Robert was removed from his position by being tossed from the barbican. Why would Jacob want the position as steward so badly? Did he covet coin, wealth, prestige?
None of that made sense, for Sean had a look at the accounts many times and nothing was out of order. He wanted access to Frances, and the only way to do that was to become ensconced in Lord William’s employ.
“If that’s all, I want to check your horse, my lord, and ensure he’s been taken care of.” Angus took the bucket of oats and disappeared inside the stables.
Sean left the lad, and entered the keep. After checking on Frances, who continued to rest, he went to the main hall where Mistress Ina was just setting supper on the table.
It had grown dark and a howling wind blew against the stones of the fortification. This night would be dangerous for the cold would take its toll on all within the clan.
Though he hadn’t eaten much in the past few days, Sean found himself with no appetite. He listened to his comrades, and then watched Mistress Ina stoke the great hearth at the end of the room. Watching her from afar, he tried to reason who Jacob’s brother was.
“Mistress? A moment please. Does Lord Lombard have any brothers?” He knew the woman had the uncanny ability to find out gossip. She’d know.
“Nay, my lord. He had two but they perished from plague when they were but lads.”
He dejected at that, certain that Lord Lombard was involved in this somehow. But that was one less suspect. “What about Sir John? Has he family close by?”
She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Oh nay, don’t rightly know. For he’s new to these parts, and comes from the south. We don’t know much about him, never heard such as family. He’s English and we tend to stay away from them.”
No wonder he liked the old woman. Sean had someone in mind, but he’d have to look into the man’s dealings before he’d accuse him outright. “Who the hell is Jacob’s brother?”
Mistress Ina, who stepped away after his dismissal, turned back to him. “Jacob, the steward here?”
“Aye, the one and the same.”
“His family lives in Liddesdale, not too afar. He was raised by his eldest brother, but has a few others, they’re younger than he. He’s the second in line to his brother’s succession. I heard tell he killed a man a few years back and was acquitted of the charges. I deem his brother had the sheriff in his service.” She shook her head. “Nay, I got it wrong, mayhap it was the other brother, the one older than he, who killed the man and was acquitted.”
“Mistress, what is the family name?” Sean realized his supposition was astute but he wanted the confirmation.
“Armstrong.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The barbican was a lonely place and Frances wasn’t sure why she’d gone out to sit there. A fortnight had passed since Sean and Alvin saved her from the horrifying evildoer in the woods. She was fully recovered and was grateful she’d been spared what had been planned for her.
As she looked out on the snowy fields, its serenity should comfort her and the fact that she’d been spared such gruesome torture. Yet she couldn’t help thinking about Winifred, Sabine, Reina, and Alice.
As angry as she was, there was nothing to do but wait for justice. Still, Frances wasn’t sure Adam Armstrong’s death would appease her.
“There you are.”
She looked at the doorway and found her fetching husband standing there. His handsome face appeared sedate, and she couldn’t for the life of her understand how he could be so patient.
“Aye, I wanted some air.”
“Come inside. It’s too cold out here for you. You’ll catch a chill.”
“Why must we wait? Cannot we go and confront him? Sir John would not condemn us for taking revenge.”
Sean came closer and leaned against the wall. “But the king would. You know that I’d be on my horse right now chasing the banshee if not for Alexander.”
“Surely the king would understand.” Frances realized how much Sean wanted to take to his horse and ride out. “He’s hiding now and likely you’ll never find him.”
He touched her shoulder, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “There’s always a way to rummage out a snake. Besides, I didn’t want to leave until I knew you were well. You scared me, Frances. I’ve come to care …”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Are you saying you love me?” When he didn’t answer right aw
ay, she clasped his hand. “I shall say it first. I love you, Sean Gunn.”
He chuckled and leaned close. “Aye? Come inside and I’ll show you how much I revere you.”
Frances shot to her feet. In the past week, how she wished he would give in and realize she was well enough to join him in bed. Actually, for him to join her in bed for she’d offered time and again. She’d gone unclothed and not once did he try anything. She adored him for his concern though.
Hastily, she made her way to their chamber. Without saying a word, she began removing her heavy cloak and garments. Sean went to the hearth and began adding wood and peat to it, and then stoked it until the flames were bright.
The warmth began to penetrate the chamber but she still had smattering of goose bumps on her skin. She shook, and wasn’t sure if it was the chilly air or the way his dark passionate eyes pierced her from across the chamber.
“You look bonny this day, aye, and have a sparkle in your eyes.” Sean traversed the chamber and as he did so, he removed his tunic and upper tartan. His chest bared and his flesh chilled with goose bumps too. He looked invincible and she couldn’t believe he was hers.
“Do I?” She teased. Frances tugged at his waist and he helped her to remove the leather belt holding his tartan on his hips. She couldn’t tear her eyes away for he stood before her naked as the day he was born. A girlish giggle escaped her for she’d never get used to seeing a man made so well unclothed in front of her.
“Touch me, lass, I need to feel you …”
Frances lightly grazed her fingers over his chest and abdomen until she reached his midsection and then continued downward. His erection felt hard and heated, and wondrously wicked. Her eyes widened when he gently thrust in her palm.
Sean pulled her close, their bodies touching, and Frances moaned at the pleasure of it. There were so many emotions swarming her, being held by him: security, desire, love. He did love her even though he wouldn’t admit it. And she grinned at the thought that a hardened warrior might likely never submit or admit such feelings. None of that mattered to her, for he belonged to her.
A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman) Page 26