Seducing the Laird

by Marrero, Lauren

  Jon, who had recently escaped Cairn’s dungeon, ran toward him as if he had not been implicated in an assassination plot. He nimbly approached, leaping over dead animals and dodging the soldiers that tried to detain him.

  "Milord! You must come quickly!"

  "Are you daft, boy?" Fergus asked, trying to grab Jon as he ran past. He missed and fell into a pile of steaming entrails.

  A prickle of unease lodged in Cairn’s throat. He knew Jon was one of Verena’s associates. Why then would he openly seek out his enemy? Whatever Jon was running from must be more frightening than Cairn’s wrath.

  "It is Verena," Jon exclaimed as he skidded to a stop, panting and holding his sides in pain. "She has been kidnapped by Gundy’s men."

  "You are Gundy’s men! All of you have deceived me and now you wish to lead me into another trap? Guards, seize him!"

  "No! Not this time. Verena loves you. Owen would have killed Roselyn if she didn’t come. You know I am fond of Roselyn. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world."

  Something inside Cairn stirred at Jon’s impassioned speech. For days he had tried to push her from his life. As soon as the child was born, he planned to banish her to France. Let Andreu care for her in one of his castles. But no matter how he tried, each moment away from her was torture. Everywhere he looked there were reminders of her presence, from the cook’s improved menu to thoughtful gifts she had distributed to the clan.

  If she was the calculating spy Gundy wanted her to be, she would have let him drink the poison. There was softness to Verena she couldn’t pretend; the way she melted in his arms and hungered for his touch. He couldn’t convince himself that was all pretense.

  "Explain yourself."

  "They are headed to Gundy’s camp across the border. If you leave now, you might catch them."

  "How did she escape?"

  Jon’s fists clenched at his sides. Verena was captured while rescuing him. He brought the unstable Owen to her. If Jon truly believed she was in love with Cairn, perhaps this was his way of making amends.

  During her confinement she told Cairn about her family of spies, how Hadran picked them off the street and taught them how to work together. She insisted they were selected because Hadran glimpsed something special in each of them, but Cairn suspected that special quality had more to do with desperation. They were united in their need to belong. Hadran’s genius was his ability to recognize this need and exploit it for his employer.

  Cairn would never pity Verena’s family because he knew what lengths they would go to in order to protect each other. He had little reason to trust the young spy, but knew he had no choice. She was in trouble.

  "If any of my clan suffers because of you …"

  "I promise, sir. We didn’t hurt anyone."

  "Milord?"

  The soldiers were watching him anxiously. Most of them didn’t know the whole truth, but rumors of her deception had been circulating since her imprisonment. Although they didn’t dare question him, Cairn had seen the heaping plates of food Roselyn brought to her, the sweets, comfortable bedding, warm clothes, candles and cushions. He didn’t understand how they could still care for her. Perhaps they, like Cairn, longed to believe she was Gundy’s victim rather than his accomplice.

  "If this is a trap you will not live to regret it."

  "I know." It was difficult not to marvel at this young lad. He didn’t even blink at the threat. Cairn didn’t know if he was brave or merely resigned to a world of violence. "I will explain everything on the way."

  "You aren’t going anywhere without me," insisted Fergus, climbing to his feet. "Someone needs to keep this little rascal in line."

  "Who else will ride with me?"

  "I will!"

  A chorus of enthusiastic affirmations greeted Cairn’s question. These men were strangers a few months ago, but were now willing to fight and die beside their laird. They accepted Cairn not because he was Angus’ son, but because of the close bonds that had forged as they worked together.

  "We don’t have much time."

  They raced toward Thomas’ cottage, but the spies were long gone by the time they arrived. They found Roselyn, Thomas and the guard, Stephen hidden under a trapdoor in Thomas’ cottage. The rhythmic thumping of Stephen’s foot against the wall alerted Cairn to their presence.

  "Let her go," spat Thomas as soon as his gag was removed. "She is not one of us."

  "Quiet, old fool!" Roselyn said. "This is your fault! They took the silver and Lady Verena."

  "The treasure was here?"

  "Aye, hidden in those sacks of grain."

  Cairn swung his shrewd gaze toward Thomas and the old man backed up in fear. All of Gundy’s scheming was for the treasure. Even if Thomas didn’t know of Gundy’s plans, he knew the clan’s state of affairs and how desperately they needed that money. Months of struggle could have been avoided if he had spoken up. Yet Thomas was unrepentant.

  "You were my grandfather’s personal retainer."

  "Aye, and I have done my part to keep this clan safe."

  "More than was wise. I never thought I would see the day when a McPherson put himself before the needs of our clan."

  "I am not a traitor," replied Thomas stubbornly. "I have always put the McPhersons before myself."

  "And now?"

  "Now more than ever. You call me a traitor, but you are a stranger to this clan. You haven’t set foot in Scotland since childhood and now you think you are one of us?"

  Fergus drew his sword, but Cairn waved him down. He listened to Thomas’ rant, curious about his motives.

  "That English woman is like your stepmother, dazzling us all with her beauty. Soon enough you will see what a viper she is. That is why the Old Lord trusted me. He knew I would never let a woman turn my head, particularly a foreign witch."

  Cairn grabbed Thomas’ scrawny neck and pressed him against the wall of his cottage.

  "I didn’t ask to be laird, but I accept the responsibility placed upon me. I have worked from dawn to dusk for my clan. Every day I repaired walls and trained men. Verena has assisted the sick, given aid to the poor and cared for my people as if they were her own. What have you done?"

  Thomas didn’t dare answer. He couldn’t breathe with the pressure of Cairn’s fingers on his throat. No one made a move to stop him, or said anything in Thomas’ defense. The old man would have let his clan starve rather than risk Ivone touching their silver.

  After a tense moment Cairn stepped back, dropping him to the floor.

  "Take him to the dungeon."

  "The Old Lord asked me to keep the treasure safe," shouted Thomas as Stephen pulled him toward the ladder. "I made sure Ivone never found it and she didn’t take it all. There is plenty left for us. We don’t need the paltry sum she stole."

  Cairn turned back to Jon, who had watched the exchange with interest. Jon had taken a considerable risk in trusting Cairn, but it wasn’t until he saw Cairn release Thomas that Jon knew he make the right decision. The old man would be punished, but fairly and not in a fit of rage. Cairn was not like Gundy.

  "We have wasted enough time here. Let’s find Verena."

  Chapter 44

  Verena’s group made swift progress despite the abysmal weather. The land was much different from her last journey, when there was still a bit of green to the countryside. Now the trees were completely barren, the leaves lay strewn on the ground in muddy piles. Where the trail was not slippery with frozen ice, it was churned to thick mud by the hooves of many horses.

  Taking her words to heart, Cairn had instructed his men to vigilantly watch the roads to give his clan as much warning as possible for Gundy’s attack. Several times they had to duck behind a scraggly copse of trees to escape the patrols. Owen and Hadran had nothing to fear, but she was too recognizable after her time in Scotland. If anyone saw her, their group would be detained.

  The blow came before she could flinch, knocking her off her horse and onto the frozen ground. She just managed to break her fall with
her arms so not to jar the baby.

  "Owen stop!" said Hadran, but Owen paid him no mind.

  "Stay out of this, old man."

  Owen dismounted and stalked over to where she lay in the mud holding her injured cheek.

  As they neared the border, Owen had led them off the main road and along an old deer trail. From the dead branches nearly covering the path, she assumed few knew its existence.

  "You are marking a trail for him!" He stood over Verena’s huddled form with clenched fists. She shook her head, but Owen continued angrily. "Don’t lie to me."

  Owen lifted her off the ground, dangling her before him like a rag doll. He had always used his size and strength to intimidate others, but for the first time she was truly frightened for herself.

  She was marking a trail, but not for Cairn. He wouldn’t trouble himself over her disappearance. She carried his child, but what would he want with a traitor’s bastard? Though it hurt more than she thought possible, she had to resign herself to a life without him. There was no place in her world for love. She needed to be practical.

  So she lowered her traitorous eyes, taking comfort in the old habits of the past. Adapt and survive, that was what Hadran taught her. "Do not lose yourself in futile emotion. Rise above it." Verena needed that advice now. She took comfort in the cold words. She would adapt and survive because much more than her life was at stake. She must think of her child.

  "Are you that desperate to return to your lover? You are pathetic."

  Owen raised his arm to hit her again, but was stopped by Hadran’s restraining hand.

  "That’s enough!" he said with some of his old authority. Owen flicked a contemptuous glance at his former mentor before pushing him away.

  "I told you to stay out of this, old man."

  "No! I raised you, clothed you, fed you, taught you everything you know and now you will listen to me.

  "What you are doing now is beyond reckless, it is stupid. Stealing the treasure, betraying Gundy, and now your behavior … You are out of control and I should have said something long ago."

  "I thought you were with me."

  "I love you like a son, but think about what you are doing. If we follow this path we will be running for the rest of our lives."

  "I will no longer live as a slave."

  "Go back to Scotland," she suggested. "Cairn will listen to me. This silver means the survival of his clan. No matter what we have done, he will be lenient."

  "I can’t do that. I was meant for more than to spend my life as some nobleman’s lackey. With this silver I won’t have to be. Don’t you see I am doing this so that we can live the lives we deserve? The finest houses in England will bow before us; they will tremble at our knowledge and power."

  "I will ask you for the last time," Owen’s eyes burned into Verena’s. She was frightened of what he might do in anger, terrified that his unrestrained violence might cause her to lose her baby. "Are you with me?"

  She choked back her natural response as she remembered Hadran’s words in the dungeon: "Give him what he wants." Owen was dangerous, ready to murder anyone who dared to stand in his way. She couldn’t risk his wrath. For the sake of her unborn child she had to find a way to pacify him.

  "You are right," she announced demurely. Both men stilled at her words. "The McPherson was so kind, I wanted to believe it was love."

  She sighed, allowing a tear to carefully fall from one eye.

  "I was willing to give up my life for a lie. Hadran taught me better than that. He is not my family, you are. I’m sorry."

  She slowly climbed to her feet, awkwardly brushing off her muddy skirt. She forced herself not to wince as Owen roughly grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eye.

  "If this is a trick …" he warned.

  "You would know. I never could lie to you."

  Owen stared at her for a long time, trying to gauge the truth of Verena’s words. He wanted to believe her, but was afraid. If he felt so strongly perhaps she could still influence him.

  "Are you with me?" he repeated softly. This time there was no threat in his voice, no anger, just the earnest pleading from his heart. Verena swallowed the guilt that threatened to choke her. This was Owen, the man who had been like a brother to her. She wished they could return to the way things were when she had idolized his gruff competence and he had diligently taught and protected her.

  "You know I am."

  Owen lowered his lips to hers and though she initially froze, she forced herself to respond. She opened her mouth to Owen when all she wanted to do was run away. Her body was acutely aware that it was not Cairn that held her in his arms. His taste, his smell, the very feel of Owen was wrong. Yet somehow she endured his alien touch.

  After what seemed like an eternity Hadran cleared his throat, reminding them of the danger they still faced.

  She gazed sheepishly at Owen. In his eyes was a promise she had no intention of fulfilling. She wanted to wipe her hands across her lips and erase the taste of him. Owen believed her, but that didn’t ease the sick feeling in her stomach. Why was it so difficult to pretend now? Her entire life was built upon lies.

  "We can rest once we’ve crossed the border," said Hadran. His censorious gaze raked Owen as if he were still an oversexed teenager.

  She nodded and allowed Owen to help her remount. If Jon was following the trail she marked, he would be careful crossing the English border. She knew he could take care of himself, but that didn’t stop her from worrying.

  She had found a way to make Owen lower his guard, but in doing so she had created a new danger for herself. Once they reached safety, she didn’t know how long she could keep Owen away.

  Chapter 45

  Owen called a halt not long after they crossed the border. They had ridden through the night and Verena’s muscles were aching with fatigue. She gingerly swung her leg over the saddle and Owen was immediately by her side to help her dismount. She silently cursed the weak muscles that forced her to cling to him to keep from falling into the mud.

  "Gundy’s army is through those trees," Owen explained. "He put us uncomfortably close to the center."

  The nobles liked to stay in the middle of their army camps where it was safer and everyone could see their importance. Hadran would never have chosen such a spot for the spies. They would be constantly on display, giving them little chance to sneak around.

  "He wants his precious treasure as close as possible."

  Though this conflict was close to home, there were many families in Gundy’s camp. One of her first assignments had been to sneak into an enemy’s encampment disguised as a camp follower and assess their strength and numbers. Did Cairn have men hidden in the English army? She didn’t recognize anyone.

  Perhaps because of their proximity to the noble’s area or pleasure at their success, Gundy decided to furnish the spies with a much grander tent than expected. Fabric flaps divided the space into three rooms. Beautifully carved furniture graced rooms hung with colorful tapestries. Mountains of thick furs and blankets were gracefully draped across comfortable beds and chairs.

  Weary from traveling through the frigid night, she wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the giant bed. Unfortunately before she had time to remove her cloak, a lad of about fifteen summoned them to Gundy.

  "I’ll go," offered Hadran, smothering a yawn. He had always been the one to deal with Gundy and had years of practice soothing his easily offended pride.

  "He wants the woman," said the lad, gesturing to Verena with his chin. He no doubt thought she was a new leman being summoned for his lord’s pleasure. He opened one of the chests to reveal a wine-colored dress of flimsy silk. She shivered just looking at the fabric. The fine cloth would be as warm as gauze in this weather.

  "He can’t be serious."

  "My lord has also generously provided a fur cloak for your comfort," continued the messenger in the same bored tone. The tent flap opened behind him to reveal a group of servants carrying a large woode
n tub, buckets of steaming hot water and platters of assorted meats, breads, cheeses, and wines. He directed them to set up in one of the smaller rooms. "I suggest using plenty of soap."

  "Lady Verena thanks his lordship for this generosity," spoke up Hadran before Verena could box the impertinent boy’s ears. After a fortnight in a dungeon making do with occasional sponge baths, She knew her smell was offensive, but he didn’t have to point that out.

  Deft hands washed, combed and braided her hair into an elaborate circlet while fragrant herbs from the bath perfumed the air. She would have liked to linger in this small respite, but Gundy was probably anxious to hear her report. She didn’t know why Hadran couldn’t deliver it like usual, but long ago gave up trying to understand Gundy’s whims.

  She forced herself to climb out of the cozy tub and munched on a crust of bread while the ladies dressed her. When they were finished, she grimaced at her reflection in the small mirror.

  The ladies were experts at showing the female figure to the best advantage and transformed her into an expensive courtesan. Her bosom was proudly displayed in an indecently low bodice, tightly laced underneath to accentuate her still tiny waist. The voluminous skirt was parted in the center to reveal a saucy red underdress. Five small puffs decorated the sleeves which were fashionably slashed to show the red fabric beneath.

  The effect was just short of decadent. The soft fabrics begged to be touched, the fashionable slashes clearly showed her undergarments. When she left the bathing room, the look Owen gave her made Verena want to cover herself with a blanket.

  "You are radiant," he said, scrambling to his feet. The silver had been unloaded and stacked beside the table where Owen and Hadran were busy devouring the rest of her meal.