by B. J. Scott
Servants scurried about preparing the evening meal. “Get those trays into the great hall,” the cook shouted. “The laird has guests and will tear a strip off my hide if we dinna deliver the meal promptly.”
“Are you going to just stand there, or are you planning to help?” a woman asked Ian. “There is much to do and Laird Morgan doesna like to be kept waiting.”
Ian nodded. “So I’ve heard.”
The woman huffed, then handed Ian a jug of wine. “Take this to the laird at once, and be quick about it.”
Ian hadn’t planned to face Roderick Morgan so soon, if at all, but the woman left him no choice. If he had any hope of maintaining the deception and finding Quinn, he’d have to do her bidding.
Uncertain where to go, Ian followed another servant who was carrying a tray of cheese and bread. When they reached the great hall, he sucked in a deep breath for courage, then stepped into the room.
Chapter 3
Ian quickly glanced around the great hall, looking for Quinn, but his search turned up empty.
“You’d best deliver the wine before the laird becomes angry,” a woman said as she came up from behind Ian, then nudged him with the tray she carried. “He can be quite a tyrant when it comes to spirits.”
Ian spun around, coming face-to-face with a short, stout maid with flaming red hair and more freckles than he could count.
“Are you new to Castle Morgan?” She moved a little closer, grinning. “My name is Jenna. And you are?”
He had to think fast. “I’m Ian F-Forbes.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. If the maid noticed he was new, would the laird? He’d hoped to blend in and go unnoticed.
“I dinna recall seeing you around the keep before.” Jenna grinned, revealing a set of uneven teeth.
“I arrived from Aberdeenshire well over a fortnight ago. I’m surprised you havena noticed me before now,” Ian said, then winked at her. “I’ve noticed you, more than once.”
Jenna’s face flushed a deep crimson red, then she scurried off, obviously flustered by his flirtation. He hated to lead her on, but his comment had the desired effect. She left without badgering him further about who he was or where he came from. Ian chuckled to himself. He could be as silver-tongued with the ladies as his cousin Bryce when the need arose.
Ian proceeded to the dais and placed the jug of wine on the table in front of the man he assumed was Roderick Morgan. He’d never met him, but Connor’s description of the laird was quite accurate.
“About time you brought the wine,” Roderick growled. “Any longer and I’d have you flogged.”
Despite the urge to leap across the table, grab the bastard by the throat, and demand Quinn’s release, Ian bowed. “I’m sorry for the delay, m’lord. It willna happen again.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“See that it does na. Be off with you.” Roderick dismissed him with a flick of his hand before resuming his conversation with a man seated to his left. “You just canna find good servants these days, Gordon. You have to keep on them or they run amuck.” Roderick filled two pewter goblets with wine, then offered one to his guest. “Sláinte mhath!”
Gordon raised his drink. “You’re right. Spare the lash and you lose control. Sláinte.”
Ian slowly backed away, but as he prepared to leave, he caught a glimpse of a striking young woman with flaxen hair and emerald eyes a man could get lost in. She was seated two chairs down, on the laird’s right. He had no idea who she was, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. By far the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, Ian suddenly felt as if his feet were locked in place. His heart raced and his breath lodged in his throat.
“What are you staring at?” Roderick snapped. “If you’ve nothing better to do, fetch us another jug of wine.”
Ian gave his head a rough shake and cursed beneath his breath. He was not here to find a lass. For all he knew, she could be Morgan’s wife. But when a tall, slender woman, with sharp, angular features approached the laird, he soon had an answer to that question.
“Did you tend to that matter we discussed, husband?” the woman asked. “I insist we settle this problem as soon as possible.”
Roderick grunted, then glared up at his wife. “I’ll na discuss this with you here, Jean. We have guests.” He gestured to Gordon, then to the empty chair on his right. “Sit down, woman, eat your meal, and leave me be.”
Jean scowled back at her husband, then faced their guest and bobbed a curtsy. “Welcome to our home, Lord Sinclair. I trust you had a pleasant journey and hope your chamber is to your liking.”
“Everything is lovely,” Sinclair replied.
Roderick stared at Ian and pointed toward the door. “Wine! Now.”
“Aye, m’lord.” Ian didn’t wait to hear any more. He turned on his heel and raced out of the room, then down the hallway, not stopping until he’d reached the stairs leading to the above floors of the castle. He slammed his fist against the wall, furious with himself for being distracted by the lass and remaining long enough for Roderick to demand he bring more wine. At this rate, he’d never locate Quinn.
“You there!” Ian called to a passing servant. “The laird wishes another jug of wine. He told me to have someone bring one to him at once.”
The man whipped around. “Take it to him yourself. I have other duties to perform.”
“I would,” Ian replied, “but Laird Morgan ordered me to do something else for him as well. But he willna be pleased if he is kept waiting for the wine.”
“I’m supposed to deliver a tray of food to a room at the top of the south tower,” the man said. “He’ll na be happy if that is delayed either.”
“If you fetch the wine, I’ll take the tray. I must go to the above floor to do the laird’s bidding anyway.” Ian chewed on the inside of his lip, waiting for the man to answer. He was not certain, but there was a chance the tray he mentioned was for Quinn. And if not, it gave him an excuse to avoid the laird and begin his search of the castle.
The man stroked his chin, then grinned. “You are aware that the tower is five stories high and at the opposite end of the keep?”
“Of course, I know where it is,” Ian lied, again. He actually had no clue, but most castles were built in a similar way, and was sure he could find it. “I noticed you have a slight limp, so if I take the tray, it would save you climbing all those stairs.”
The man rubbed his leg, then smiled at Ian. “Very well. Go to the kitchen and Martha will prepare the tray.”
Ian nodded. “You might want to bring two jugs of wine. The laird appears to be thirsty tonight. It will save you another trip.”
“Good idea. He has guests, so I am sure there will be festivities after the meal,” the man replied, before disappearing down the hall.
Ian hoped the man was correct. And the more the laird and his guests had to drink, the less likely they’d be prowling around the castle, freeing him to search for Quinn.
Roslyn cast a sideways glance at Gordon Sinclair, her stomach twisting in knots. He was handsome enough and from a prestigious clan, but neither of those things made him a good husband. Most women would be proud to become his wife, but she did not consider herself like most women. He had all but ignored her since his arrival, and while she didn’t know him well enough to pass judgement, her gut told her he was very much like her arrogant, womanizing brother. She’d rather go to a convent and take the vows than spend her life with a man she dinna like, let alone love. However, right now, her concern was for Quinn.
“Is everything to your liking, m’lady?” a servant asked when she stared down at Roslyn’s still-full plate.
“Aye. Tell Cook he has outdone himself,” she replied.
“But you havena eaten more than a mouthful,” the servant pointed out.
“I will. Thank you for your concern.” Roslyn speared a piece of mutton with her knife, then popped it into her mouth. She had no appetite, but her brother insisted she attend the evening meal and not insult he
r betrothed. While the thought of her upcoming nuptials soured her stomach, she had other things on her mind as well.
A couple of hours had passed since she’d seen Quinn and she could not forget his angelic face or the tears of despair in his eyes. She knew from experience what it felt like to be frightened, alone, and at the mercy of her ruthless brother. Despite Roderick’s warning to stay clear of the south tower, she could not bring herself to abandon the lad.
Once she was certain Roderick was well in his cups and engrossed in a discussion with Gordon Sinclair, she seized the opportunity to slip out of the great hall.
“M’lady.” The castle steward stopped her in the corridor, blocking her path. “I’m surprised to see you leaving so early this evening. Are you not staying for the music and dancing?”
“Nay. I’m feeling weary and have decided to retire.” Roslyn brought a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn.
“But this feast is in honor of your betrothed, Lord Sinclair. Should you na stay and get to know him better? You are to be married in a fortnight,” the steward reminded her.
“Lord Sinclair is deep in conversation with my brother, and has been since he arrived. They are busy discussing my future, I have no doubt.” Roslyn didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in her tone. “There will be plenty of time to get acquainted during his visit.” She studied the floor, avoiding eye contact with the steward. If he thinks me rude and decides to leave without marrying me, I would be most pleased. Her inner thoughts she kept to herself.
“Are you na worried your betrothed might take offense if you leave?” the steward asked.
“I’m sure I’ll na be missed. If you’d excuse me, I’d like to be on my way.” Roslyn tried to edge past the steward, hoping he’d not ask her any more questions, but he didn’t budge.
“I’ll send your lady’s maid up to assist you. Would you like me to have Cook prepare a tray and send it to your chamber as well?” he inquired.
“That willna be necessary. I’m na hungry. And I’m capable of taking care of myself,” Roslyn said. “A good night sleep is all I need.”
“Very well.” The steward bowed, then stepped aside, allowing her to pass. “Shall I inform Lord Sinclair that you will join him for the morning meal?”
“If you wish,” Roslyn called over her shoulder as she hastened down the hallway, then bolted up the stairs to the above floor. But she did not return to her room. Instead she bypassed her chamber and headed for the opposite end of the castle.
After making certain no one was around to see her, she climbed the staircase leading to the fifth floor of the tower, pausing at the top to catch her breath. If her brother found out she’d gone against his orders, he’d be furious, and might even make good on his threat to punish her. But she was willing to take that chance. She intended to do what she could to ease Quinn’s fear and if possible, help him return to his mother.
Roslyn hastened down a short corridor, grabbed a key from a hook on the wall, unlocked the door to Quinn’s chamber, granting her entrance. Aside from a fire blazing on the hearth, the chamber was cloaked in darkness. After taking a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light, she moved into the room, following the sound of lad’s muffled sobs.
Her heart clenched when she found the bairn laying atop a raised pallet with his face buried in the bed covering, crying. She sat beside him and gently stroked his back.
Quinn shot up with a start. He scrubbed his fist across his damp cheeks and glared up at her. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry if I startled you.” Roslyn used the pad of her thumb to catch a stray tear. “Dinna cry. I mean you no harm. I was concerned about you and came to see how you were doing.”
“Only babes cry and I’m na afraid of anything.” Quinn sniffled, then dragged the sleeve of his tunic across his nose.
Roslyn smiled. “I’m sure you’re a very brave lad. Has anyone brought you something to eat?” She glanced around the room, but saw no sign of food or drink.
Quinn raised his chin and shook his head. “I’m na hungry. I want to go home.”
“That may be, but Roderick should have had something sent up to you by now. I’ll go see what I can do.” She rose to depart, but he clutched her forearm.
“Dinna leave me alone.” Quinn peered up at her, tears welling in his eyes.
“There is naught to fear, Quinn. I promise to come back.”
“I’m na afraid, but dinna want you to go. The laird said he would have a servant bring my dinner and some water. He just hasna shown up yet.”
“Very well.” Roslyn smiled and sat on the pallet. “I’ll stay for a bit, but if the servant doesna come soon, I’ll have to go see what is keeping him. We dinna want you going to bed hungry.”
The idea that someone could show up at any minute unnerved her. If she was discovered in Quinn’s room and Roderick found out, there would be hell to pay. But she could not find it in her heart to leave the lad when he begged her to stay.
“I heard you tell my brother that you’re almost nine summers old,” Roslyn said. “Why, you’re almost a man.”
Quinn bobbed his head, but remained quiet.
“I can hardly remember when I was your age. It seems so long ago. Do you have much longer to wait?” Roslyn asked.
Quinn puffed out his chest. “I’ll be nine summers in a little over a fortnight. Lazarus told me he would get me my very own mount on my Saint’s Day.”
“Who is Lazarus?”
Quinn scratched his head. “Since he is married to my sister Sheena, I guess you could say he’s my da. Lazarus is from a fierce Clan. The Frasers. Their stronghold is in Beauly, not far from Inverness. My Uncle Connor is laird, and he has one of the biggest armies in all the Highlands.”
“I’ve heard tales about the Fraser stronghold, but canna say I have ever been there.” Roslyn hoped to ease the bairn’s fears by engaging him on conversations about things he clearly loved. But she also figured the more she learned about where Quinn lived would prove beneficial when it came to getting him home to his family.
“Lazarus is the bravest man I’ve ever known,” Quinn continued. “He was once a Templar Knight who fought in the Holy Land, so Laird Morgan had better watch out. When he and my uncles comes for me, your brother is gonna be sorry he ever took me.”
Roslyn could only imagine the anguish a mother and father would feel if their bairn was stolen. “You’re right. Roderick should never have taken you from you home, and I hope we can find a way to get you back to your sister, without any fighting.”
“I’d like that. I’m sure my sister is very worried about me,” Quinn said. “She’s going to have a babe and shouldna get upset.”
“You obviously care about your sister a great deal.”
“Aye. I love her very much. After our parents died, it was just the two us. We lived alone and moved around a lot.” Quinn hung his head. “People dinna treat us very nicely. They said my sister lifted her skirt for coin, but that wasna true.”
“I’m sorry she was treated unfairly, and that you lost your parents, Quinn. Mine died too. But at least I had a chance to get to know them before they passed,” Roslyn explained. “I’m sure they would have liked to meet you. My mother loved bairns.” If Quinn was truly Roderick’s son, Roslyn knew her mother would have adored being his grandmother.
“Do you have other brothers and sisters, aside from Laird Morgan?” Quinn asked.
“Nay. Sadly my mam only had two babes,” Roslyn answered. “When I was a wee lass, I used to pretend we had a castle full of brothers and sisters. But alas, there was just my brother and me.”
Quinn smiled. “I used to wonder what it would be like to come from a large family, but na anymore. Now that Sheena is married, I have a da, aunts, uncles, and a lot of cousins. And when Sheena has her babe, I’ll be an uncle and a big brother at the same time.”
“I guess you will be.” Roslyn laughed. “I’m glad you now have so many people who care about you.”
&
nbsp; Quinn frowned. “Aye. I dinna understand why Laird Morgan keeps saying I’m his son. He’s a very mean man, and I dinna like him. But I do like you.”
Roslyn found herself at a loss for words. The more she talked to Quinn, the more convinced she was that Roderick could in fact be the lad’s father, and the more it broke her heart. This was not where he belonged, and she was more determined than ever to thwart her brother’s plan to claim the lad and to help him escape. But how? It was not her place to explain that Sheena was Quinn’s mother and not his sister. Or to tell him that his sire was a ruthless swine who stole his mother’s virtue, then tossed her aside and boasted about the conquest.
“I wonder what’s keeping the servant with your meal.” Rather than answer Quinn’s question, Roslyn changed the topic of their conversation. “I’d best go and see about it.” She rose.
Quin clutched the sleeve of her gown and peered up at her. “Will you come back?”
“Aye.” Roslyn stroked his cheek and smiled.
“When?” Quinn asked.
“As soon as I can,” she replied. “But as I am sure you have noticed, I dinna get along with my brother as well as you do your sister.” Roslyn lowered her voice to a whisper. “Roderick has a bad temper and he forbid me to see you. Hence, we must keep our visits a secret. Do you understand?”
Quinn bobbed his head. “Aye. I am very good at keeping secrets.”
“I’m glad to hear it. If Roderick finds out I have gone against his wishes, it willna bode well for either of us.” Roslyn patted the lad’s arm. “I will do what I can to help you, but Roderick mustna know. Right now, my brother is busy entertaining his guests, so I can go down to the kitchen and find you something to eat without him being the wiser.”
“Please hurry back, m’lady.”
“I’ll do my best.” Roslyn scurried to the door. She needed to complete the task as quickly as possible, while trying not to draw any unnecessary attention to herself. She reached for the latch, then swung the door open.