Glenna frowned in the shadows.
“And it’s only promising to get worse by the end of the month,” Audrey continued. “Some of the most powerful and influential nobles in all of Scotland will have arrived to hear the king’s decision and see the curious new laird of Roscraig. What if—”
Footsteps echoed on the stairs, drawing both Captain Muir’s and Miss Keane’s attention, and as Tavish Cameron’s head came into the light followed by at least two servants, Glenna took the opportunity to back up the stairs farther. Once she was completely hidden by the curvature of the wall, she gained her feet and fled silently to the uppermost level and slipped into her father’s chamber, closing the door carefully with a sigh of relief at her escape.
“Good evenin’, Lady Glenna,” a deep voice rumbled.
Glenna turned as the large figure stepped out from behind her father’s tall armoire.
“I told you I wasna goin’ anywhere,” Frang Roy said.
* * * *
Tavish wasn’t surprised to find Muir and Audrey Keane on the landing outside the great hall; Tavish knew the captain still doted on Audrey, so of course he would want to present the gift from her father personally.
He turned to the pair of hands waiting behind him and motioned to the trunk similar in appearance to Audrey’s they carried between them. “Take it to my chamber and leave it.” Then he turned back to the man and woman who had stepped away from each other to include Tavish on the landing. He looked at Audrey, who was frowning prettily. “Not enjoying tonight’s feast, Audrey? A shame, since you arranged it.”
“You’d think I was naught more than a servant to these people, Tavish,” she retorted, lifting her rounded chin slightly. “My father likely could buy any man in this Godforsaken wilderness several times over.”
Tavish had to nod in agreement. “The nobility care more for their pedigree than they do for their coffers, ofttimes. Only consider Roscraig as an example.”
“You would make things easier on me by far were you to announce your intentions,” Audrey said pointedly. “Or perhaps you are enjoying the care of the eligible ladies who’ve come to fight over you?”
Tavish ignored the jab. “What of the Misses Haversham and Conner? Certainly the presence of your friends is entertainment for you.”
“They are busied with the attentions of the younger sons of a lesser baron,” she said with bitterness clear in her voice. “It seems everyone here is looking to make a profitable match.”
“Audrey,” Tavish said mildly, “you are my guest and my friend. I would not begrudge you doing the same. My position here is not yet guaranteed, and neither is any agreement between us.”
“Hoping a better match comes along, are you?” Audrey said, her lips thinning. “Someone noble, perhaps? I hear there is a cave at Roscraig, for pilgrims seeking favor. Isn’t that what nobles do? Go on pilgrimages? I shall have to begin at once.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Tavish began.
“You could never hold hope of winning my hand in Edinburgh, Tavish Cameron, and you certainly are not my only option now, no matter what my father thinks.” She turned away from him to face Muir. “Thank you, John, for troubling yourself so for me. I—I would like very much to know that you are to stay on at Roscraig for a while—a loyal friend close at hand means so much.”
Muir gave the woman a short bow. “As always, Miss Keane.”
Audrey’s skirts swept across the landing as she reentered the hall.
Tavish huffed a laugh. “Well, I reckon she told me.” He looked to Muir for commiseration, but the older man was looking through the doorway with an expression of chagrin.
He did not lose it as he faced Tavish. “I’m speaking to you as a friend and not as your captain, Tav, when I say that perhaps it’s best not to string Audrey along.”
Now Tavish did chuckle outright. “What are you going on about, John?”
“Like she said, if you intend to wed her, the honorable thing would be to make your intentions clear. I have thought much of taking a wife of my own, of late. Waited too long to properly go about it, I reckon. You have the opportunity beneath your very nose.”
“I’ve never proposed to Audrey Keane,” Tavish protested.
“You invited her to Roscraig straightaway.”
“I invited her father.”
“You accepted a gift of lands from Master Keane.”
“Lands he won while gambling and that are useless to him without a title. He is hoping to use my recent elevation to his own business advantage.”
“Audrey is no business advantage.”
“I never said she was; I wouldn’t marry her only for her connections through her father.”
“Perhaps you wouldn’t now, as laird of Tower Roscraig; but you would have broken both your own legs to get to the chapel to wed her when you were only Tav Cameron of Market Street.”
Tavish looked at his friend for a moment, taken aback at the sudden chastisement. “Are you in need of a drink, Muir? Or a woman? I’m certain I can find—”
“Nay,” Muir cut in. “I don’t need a woman guaranteed in my bed and a score more following me around like heated sows to feel I’ve succeeded.”
Now Tavish felt the first stirrings of anger. “I take offense to that, Muir.”
“Good,” the captain said with a single nod, meeting Tavish’s gaze steadily. “Perhaps it will aid you in pulling that thick head out of your own arse before the king arrives and you make an even bigger idiot of yourself.”
“I’m surprised you wish to captain the Stygian for such a man.”
“I already said I was speaking as your friend and not your captain. But perhaps I will find another ship sooner than later,” the man retorted, but his words were calm and thoughtful, as if the idea was one he had already long considered. “Will there be anything else? Laird Cameron?”
Tavish shook his head. “Nay, Captain.” His stinging pride couldn’t help but add, “You’re dismissed.”
Muir stepped around Tavish and left the landing with his graceful, rolling gait.
“What the bloody hell?” Tavish murmured to himself, shaking his head and already feeling remorse at the words the two had exchanged. Muir was only looking out for him, and he was likely right.
Tavish looked into the hall at the revelry continuing without him and then glanced up the stairs. He’d not caught sight of Glenna Douglas since this afternoon, when he’d reiterated her banishment from the feast. He knew his decision had hurt and angered her, but he’d wager that she would soon forgive him. She wondered if she would be bold enough to look inside the trunk in his absence…
Another glance into the hall showed that everyone in attendance seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely—even Audrey had found a clutch of people to join, and one young fop in particular seemed to be paying her appropriate attention. She even peeked over her shoulder and smirked, having caught Tavish watching her.
He smiled to himself. She’d be fine for a few more moments.
Tavish took the steps two at a time to gain the upper landing, but once outside the door, he paused, suddenly a bit unsure. He raised his hand to rap upon the wood but hesitated.
Whether Muir—or Audrey or Glenna Douglas—liked it or nay, Tavish was laird here. This was his chamber. His door. He could enter it anytime he liked without announcing his intention to anyone. Tavish seized the handle and pushed inside.
The chamber glowed with the soft light of the hearth flames; the furs on the bed were smooth and neat. A tray of foodstuffs and a pitcher rested on Tavish’s table. The trunk sat in the middle of the floor, undisturbed.
Glenna wasn’t here.
Tavish frowned; she was likely sitting with the old man, in the chamber above. Tavish put his hands on his hips and looked around the room with a frustrated sigh, as if he expected her to suddenly materialize at
his wish.
He would not chase the girl. Tavish had a feast and guests to attend to, and the trunk could wait.
He turned and left his chamber, walking back down the stairs toward the great hall and his guests, and telling himself that feeling at the base of his skull was not shadowy uncertainty. He was just off center from his friend’s odd behavior toward him, nothing more. He certainly had no cause to be worried for Glenna Douglas while she sat with her invalid father, in the home she’d known all her life.
In fact, he thought to himself as he took a chalice offered to him by a passing servant, he had no cause to be worried for Glenna Douglas, ever. She meant nothing to him.
He raised his cup in salute to the portrait above the blazing hearth and then crossed the floor to join the group of richly dressed nobles who were hailing him.
* * * *
“I wouldna do that, were I you,” Frang warned Glenna as her palm skimmed downward over the wood. “The idea that you didna stand up for me to your lover has put me in a mite of a foul humor.”
“I could scream,” Glenna said, pressing her back against the door now, praying silently for someone—anyone—to interrupt them.
“Not long enough to be heard over that din,” he said with a jerk of his head toward the shuttered window, where the noise of the feast rose on the thin night air. “I’d reach you first.”
Glenna swallowed.
“But I didna come here to harm you, even after your poor treatment of me,” Frang said pointedly. “I only want you to hear the whole of what I’ve to say; what I’ve tried to tell you for a fortnight. I’ve come once again to offer my help to you, Lady Glenna. Though you’ve shown me naught but contempt each time before.”
“Tavish Cameron has banished you from Roscraig,” Glenna said, pausing to press her lips together and take slow breaths through her nose, although Frang Roy’s odor was nearly overwhelming. It smelled as though he had spent the days since his exile out of doors. “If he finds you here, he’ll kill you.”
Frang gave her his crooked, grotesque grin. “Nae if I kill him first.” He began walking toward her. “You see, Lady Glenna, I’ve come to tell you some things about yer da. Yer mam, as well. Things the old man hoped none would ever know.”
Glenna lifted her chin. “What things?”
His grin grew sly, sliding across his flat, wide lips and stretching them smooth. “He’s nae paid Roscraig’s debts.”
“That’s no secret,” Glenna scoffed, although her knees were watery with the man’s continued approach. “There’s not been enough crops, and…and we’ve no help. Then the sickness…”
Frang Roy shook his head. “He’s never paid the debts. Because he’s nae laird.”
“What? That’s ridiculous, Frang. Don’t come any closer,” Glenna warned. “You assume too much.”
“Once the king arrives, it’ll be too late,” Frang continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Tavish Cameron is entitled to the Tower—aye, I believe ’tis true. And he will soon have the king’s blessing to toss you out on your skinny arse. If yer da yet lives, he’ll be thrown into prison.” He stood right before her now and leaned down slightly to speak into her face. “As a traitor to the crown.”
“That’s…that’s simply not true,” Glenna whispered, though she trembled through the soles of her slippers. “My father grew up at Roscraig, just as I have done. He is a loyal servant to James. He—”
Frang Roy shook his head and placed his wide, crusty finger over her lips, cutting off her argument. The smell of the digit caused Glenna’s stomach to rise into her throat.
“You think spreading your legs for Cameron will save you, make ’im marry you. But he willna.”
Against her will, Captain Muir’s words bloomed in Glenna’s memory: He had it commissioned some time ago…he hopes you will wear it as your wedding costume.
“You’re poorer than a vicarage mouse, and your da’s a fraud.”
Glenna shook her head free of his touch. “He’s not.”
“And a murderer,” Frang whispered.
“Nay,” Glenna rasped. “You lie.”
His face was so close to hers now that Glenna could see the fissures of broken capillaries across his nose, in the yellow of his eyes.
“He killed your mother.”
She raised her hands into fists then, flailing at his hateful face, but Frang Roy quickly overpowered her, grasping her wrists in one huge hand and then pinning her to the door.
“If you will only think upon what I tell ye, you’ll understand ’tis true,” he said mildly, as if he had no concern for her abhorrence of him. “Once the king arrives with his court, your time at Roscraig is over. None will help you. You might be sold to the highest bidder, eh? I know of one who intends to visit Roscraig who will give a handsome coin for you. You wouldna care for his attentions.”
“Dubhán will speak for me,” Glenna rasped. “And for Da.”
Frang Roy kept his simple smile. “The only thing Dubhán’s word would do for you is bring your fall harder and faster. Nay, nay—we must be rid of Tavish Cameron and prevent the king from coming. Rid ourselves of Dubhán, as well, for good measure; warrant both our hides.”
Glenna said nothing, and so Frang continued. “Your lover has a cache on the cliff—I saw him take it there with my own eyes.” He raised his hand to stroke her cheek. “Tonight, I fetch it. For us,” he emphasized. His breaths were coming heavy now, and he leaned closer toward her face…
The insistent rap at the door vibrated into Glenna’s rib cage, and she gasped before Frang’s palm covered her mouth.
“Shh,” he warned, his sparse, coarse eyebrows drawing together. He whispered his hot breath into her ear. “Answer easy, ken?”
Glenna nodded, and Frang slowly removed his hand from her mouth just as another insistent knock sounded. Glenna couldn’t help the whimper that squeaked out of her.
“Miss Douglas?” a servant girl queried from beyond the door.
Glenna tried to answer but had to clear her throat before any sound would come. “What is it?”
“Laird Cameron wishes to inquire of you. Are you well, miss?”
Frang Roy sent her a meaningful look.
“My father is resting. I don’t wish to be disturbed.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, miss, but he wants you right away. In his chambers, miss.”
She met Frang Roy’s gaze as he nodded.
“I’ll be along when I’ve finished here.”
“Aye, miss.”
The echo of footsteps retreated in the corridor.
“I am nae the only one who knows the truth,” Frang warned her quietly. “And once it has been brought out into the open, I canna help you.”
“Frang, this is madness,” she choked. “Am I to believe such horrid accusations about my own father on naught but your word?”
“That brooch of your da’s,” he said. “Look closely at the portrait in the hall and you’ll see it. You’ve been lied to all your life.” His callused thumb stroked her jaw for one gruesome moment, and then he released her and stepped back, his wide grin revealing the decaying gaps in his teeth as he reached inside the neck of his filthy shirt, withdrawing a small leather pouch on a thong around his neck.
“Look here what I’ve managed to lay hand to. Steep half o’ this in a drink before your lover comes to you tonight, and give it to him.” He ducked his head and then pressed the pouch into her chest, where Glenna raised her hands to take it, if only to keep his fingers from brushing against her skin. He continued. “After all in the hold are abed, unbar the door for me. I’ll cut his throat while he sleeps. We have nae need to worry anymore about him after that.”
Time seemed to stop then, and Glenna felt an icy chill race up her spine. In that moment, she saw Tavish Cameron’s blue eyes in her mind, heard the rich timbre of his voice echoing in he
r memory. Harriet’s son, the man who had brought Roscraig back to life…
Glenna shook her head. “Nay. Nay, you can’t do that. I…I will be suspect. Of course. After all, it is my home he thinks to steal. And…and my bed he sleeps in. There are guards…”
“Then give him all of it,” Frang said pointedly. “It’ll take longer that way, mayhap a pair of days. I’ll wait nae longer than that for a sign that I have your cooperation, you ken?”
Glenna shook her head slightly, the roar in her head making his words and their meaning foreign.
“I’ll already have all the coin I could ever want. If you refuse my help, you’re free to stay behind and fend off the king,” he said. “I’ll find another woman, aye. Mayhap even the mouthy Miss Keane might be persuaded to comfort me in my new wealth.” He raised his hand and cupped her breast. “Although ’twill be your face I see with each stroke.” Glenna’s nostrils burned as he stepped away. “Go, lest he send another maid after you and discover me here.”
She turned and grasped the door handle and then looked back over her shoulder at her father. She glanced up at Frang Roy but could not bring herself to hold his gaze.
“You swear you won’t harm him after I am gone?”
“Aye, I swear it,” he answered. “He’s the only one who’ll be able to convince you what I say is true.”
It took every ounce of strength in her arms to open the door and step into the corridor, leaving her father with that beast of a man.
But Frang Roy had opened another door in Glenna’s mind that night. And she was infinitely more fearful of walking through that figurative portal than the one she exited now.
She closed the door behind her.
Chapter 12
It seemed to Tavish that the maid had been gone for more than an hour, and it became increasingly difficult to concentrate on the conversation with the two barons before him. He felt more than a pinch of chagrin that he’d allowed himself to send the maid to locate Miss Douglas in the first place, but now that he was waiting for an answer, he could barely pay heed to the old noblemen who were quite openly curious about his plans for Roscraig.
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