by Diana Cosby
Cailin caught her wrist; awareness surged through him. Irritated, he shoved the unwanted draw aside. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”
Her eyes narrowed with defiance.
The stubborn lass. “If we learn your stepbrother is alive and his life is at risk, I will try to save him. But if I discover you have lied to me, regardless in how trivial a way, I will abandon you to your fate.”
The tension in her body eased. “I thank you and swear you willna regret trusting me.”
Though she seemed sincere, he was far from convinced. After her mistruths since they met, he’d be a fool to believe her without proof.
Cailin released her hand. “Where is Father Lamond?”
She tugged the blanket tighter around her, edged closer to the fire. “He lives in a small crofter’s hut on the edge of Dalkirk land.”
Cailin was stunned his uncle would allow the priest’s presence after he’d stolen Cailin’s father’s sword, an act he knew from his discussion with the king that had led to the earl banishing the cleric. Only fear of the church’s power had forced the earl to spare the priest’s life.
“The earl consents to his presence?”
She shook her head. “Lord Dalkirk doesna know he is here. Father Lamond changed his appearance, and the earl believes he is Finnean Howe, an ailing man with a malady that is highly contagious.”
“Which explains why he is left alone.”
“Indeed. He keeps to himself, except for those who covertly visit. When outside, he wears a hooded cloak to shield his face.”
Brilliant, and the reason why the priest had seemed to disappear. Even King Robert was unsure of his whereabouts, hence the instructions for Cailin to find Sir Angus McReynolds.
Though this far from explained one critical matter. “Why do you know where the priest lives?”
“’Twas by accident I learned,” she admitted. “One night last summer, when I couldna sleep. As ʼtwas a full moon, I went outside for a walk. When returning, I heard a soft whinny from outside the stable. Worried that intruders may be about, I crept close. In the moonlight, I saw my stepfather saddling one of our horses. After he rode off, I followed him on one of our mares.”
“He never saw you?”
A blush swept her cheeks and she shook her head. “Not until after I had arrived at the priest’s home. Though upset, my stepfather grudgingly introduced us. It is incredible, but when I met Father Lamond, ’twas as if I had known him my whole life. ’Tis why, after, my stepfather allowed me to join him on his visits to the cleric. But that first night, after my stepfather and I departed, he made me swear never to disclose that we’d met.”
“Yet you told me?”
“Because you are the true heir to Dalkirk.” She paused. “I have sworn my fealty to you, and though you dinna know me, once my word is given, ’tis not done lightly.”
He stared at Kenzie, confused and impressed by the complex passions that defined her. “I regret that I will never meet your stepfather.”
“As am I. We were so close, and,” she said, her voice growing rough with emotion, “he would have liked you.”
Cailin found himself believing that however odd the circumstance came about, he would have liked her stepfather as well. “Mayhap we met during my youth. What is his full title?”
She hesitated. “If you had been introduced, I doubt you would have remembered him, as neither he, nor I, are of nobility.”
A muscle worked in his jaw as he stared at her, unsure if he was irritated by her deceptions or impressed by her nerve. He threw another stick into the fire. “Yet you allowed me to believe such.”
“I did, but that was when we first met. Then, you were never to find out who I was. When you tried to locate me, which given your determination I discovered during the short time we were together, I knew you would do. Your thinking that I was of nobility, would help ensure that you failed.”
“It would, but I know your name.” He paused with a shake of his head at her cleverness and understood, impressed further. “Kenzie isna your name.”
A smile touched her lips, faded. “Nay, ’tis Elspet.”
“Your surname?”
“McReynolds.”
A chill trickled down his neck. No, it couldn’t be. Though ʼtwould explain why Father Lamond had trusted her stepfather.
Cailin fought for calm. Look at him, getting ahead of himself. He wasn’t sure if there was a connection. Her surname being the same as that of the man King Robert had sent him to find could be naught but a coincidence.
“Who is your stepfather?” he asked with indifference, as if the information wasn’t of critical importance.
“Sir Angus McReynolds.”
“God’s blade,” Cailin rasped.
She gasped. “You knew my stepfather?”
“We have met.” Regardless of her tie, before he would have kept his word. But her stepfather being Sir Angus McReynolds, a trusted confidant of King Robert, changed everything. He must send word to the Bruce of Sir Angus’s death. Bile curdled in Cailin’s gut as a darker thought creased his mind. “You said your stepfather was killed by the earl. Why?”
Grief filled her eyes. “He was accused of stealing hart on the earl’s land, but I swear, ’tis a lie. My stepfather was an honorable man and would never do such!”
“He wouldna,” he agreed. Aware now of her stepfather’s secret life, Cailin suspected the earl’s motive had little to do with any game Sir Angus may have illegally caught, and prayed he was wrong. “Do you remember there being anything odd or out of the ordinary in your stepfather’s days over the past few weeks?”
She frowned. “Odd?”
At the pallor of her face, he gentled his voice, understanding the grief of loss, more so when she’d battled the death of her family days before.
“I know this is difficult, but ’tis important. Did you notice that your stepfather traveled more, had visitors who were strangers, or was doing something around your home you had never seen him do before? Or acting in a secretive manner?”
Her knuckles squeezed the blanket. “Why?”
“Tell me. I swear ’tis important or I wouldna have asked.”
“I… A man came to the house about a sennight ago. I thought little of it as we often had strangers stay with us who were passing through. My stepfather was kind that way; he never turned away a traveler.”
Because the men who were given shelter weren’t strangers, but contacts in league with King Robert, no doubt at times carrying missives to and from Father Lamond. “Do you know the man’s name?”
“Nay. Though he bore nay signs of his being a nobleman, his bearing commanded respect. After their meeting, my stepfather seemed on edge, or…”
“Or?”
She frowned and rubbed her forehead. “This will sound strange, but I caught my stepfather looking at the man with a mixture of apprehension and pride.” She shrugged. “I know ’tis little.”
“Did the man leave anything, say anything you remember as noteworthy?”
“Nay, he…wait. A day after the man left, I noticed that my stepfather was troubled. When I asked him, he wouldna explain. Never had I seen him this anxious. He rode out soon after, when my mother and stepbrother were working in the fields. Worried, I searched through his things in hopes of discovering the reason. I found—” She closed her eyes.
“Steady, lass.”
Red-rimmed eyes met his. “I found a map of Tiran Castle, with entries of improvements recently made. At the bottom, along with a brief note, ’twas signed, Yours in faith, Father Lamond.” She sniffed. “’Twas the day after that my stepfather was charged with poaching and killed.”
Cailin stilled. God’s blade. Sir Angus’s death was far from serving justice from theft.
“What is it?” Elspet asked, her voice trembling.
Cailin met he
r gaze, damned what he would reveal. “Your stepfather wasna killed because of false charges of stealing hart but because my uncle discovered his loyalty to King Robert.”
Chapter 4
“My stepfather was loyal to King Robert?” Firelight wavered against the cave walls as Elspet fought the grief, the anger surging through her at Cailin’s assertion. “You are wrong. His fealty was to Lord Comyn, and he was often called upon and involved with planning significant battles for our liege lord.”
Cailin slowly shook his head. “His supposed loyalty was a cover, proven by Father Lamond’s name on the document in Sir Angus’s possession, a man my uncle knows is loyal to King Robert. Your stepfather gathered information valuable to King Robert, aiding him in his rightful claim of Scotland.”
A slow throbbing built in her head as she stared at Cailin, struggled to accept his words. Elspet stilled, finally understanding. “A fact you know because your allegiance is to King Robert as well.”
He nodded. “I swore my fealty over a year ago.”
“And my stepfather?”
“I first met Sir Angus during a meeting with the Bruce this past summer.”
Merciful saints. The time when her stepfather had traveled to take care of important business. She could barely breathe at the enormity of the disclosure. The news shattered the beliefs of the life she’d known. “I never thought, never imagined that…”
“Sir Angus McReynolds was a man trusted by Scotland’s king,” Cailin continued, his voice filled with respect. “A knight who worked alongside others faithful to the Bruce to quell any who fought to deny him his rightful crown.”
She rubbed her brow. “’Tis much to accept. But my stepfather secretly working for King Robert would explain why the Earl of Dalkirk, a loyal Comyn supporter, would want him dead.”
“Elspet…”
Questions flooded her mind. “Did my mother know? Was she a supporter of King Robert as well?” Had she died because of the politics of men? Livid, Elspet held up her hand. “Even if you knew, it matters little. Both are dead, murdered by the Earl of Dalkirk.”
“Nor,” Cailin said through clenched teeth, “will he escape his crimes. That I swear.”
The raw violence in Cailin’s voice matched that raging through her blood. And why wouldn’t he loath his uncle? The Earl of Dalkirk had also killed Cailin’s parents during his youth. “How did the earl discover my stepfather’s ties to King Robert?”
“As your family lived unharmed until recently, I suspect something raised my uncle’s suspicions and so ordered your home watched. His knights must have captured a recent visitor of consequence to Sir Angus, mayhap the knight you spoke of or another, and the information was pried from him.”
Bile again crawled up her throat. “You think whoever it was, they were tortured?”
“If he is loyal to King Robert, aye.”
The thought of such brutal actions made her want to retch. “Nor should I be surprised,” she whispered. “Lord Dalkirk is known for his cruelty, for making people suffer.”
She swallowed hard. The crackle of the flames and the scent of smoke within the cave carried on as if everything was normal when ’twas anything but.
“Elspet, ’tis imperative that you help me,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “Nor, for your safety, except for Father Lamond, can you tell anyone what I shared with you.”
“I willna, I swear it.” She hesitated. “You believe my mother knew?”
“I would think she was aware of Sir Angus’s involvement. It may be the reason why she was hanged. And,” Cailin said, “I seek your allegiance to King Robert.”
“If my family’s loyalty was given to the Bruce, the decision is simple. I only wished they had told me. Only wished that…” She shoved aside the rush of sorrow. Now wasn’t the time for regrets but action. “I give my fealty to King Robert Bruce.”
Cailin nodded.
She gasped. “You think my stepbrother is ignorant of his father’s true loyalty?”
“Mayhap, ’twould explain why his life was spared, but”—his red brows drew together—“something still feels out of kilter.”
“Regardless,” she said on a relieved breath, “’tis a reason for which I am thankful. More, it makes sense that my stepfather wouldna want me or his son involved.”
“It does. Nor will we have our answers until we speak with him.” Cailin sounded distracted. As if he was thinking things out as he spoke.
“Then you will save Blar?”
He gave a curt nod. “I will try.”
“I thank you.” She wanted to throw her arms around him. He would never know how much this meant to her.
“What of the map to Tiran Castle? Do you know if ’tis still there?”
“Nay. When the guards stormed inside, two grabbed my stepfather. Under the direction of Lord Dalkirk, three others tore apart our belongings until one found the map and handed it to the earl.”
“Which makes sense if it was one of the men who visited recently who exposed Sir Angus’s loyalty to the Bruce.” He grimaced. “And after the search?”
“I saw nay more. The earl ordered his men to haul me to Tiran Castle. When I was dragged into the noble’s chamber in the stronghold, he didna have the map, and I…” A tremor shook her and she closed her eyes against the violent memories, her terror, the fear for her life.
“Elspet.”
Fisting her hands against the rush of emotion, she turned away, feeling too fragile to combat another memory, afraid if he touched her now, she’d fall apart. “I am tired,” she said, damning the tremor in her voice.
The shuffle of clothes was her only warning, then Cailin’s strong arms drew her against him. “’Tis all right, let the tears come.”
“Release me,” she breathed, the swell of tears building in her throat.
Instead, he lay her head against his chest.
A sob tore free, then another. Any semblance of control shattered as great, heart-wrenching sobs poured out, each shaking her body until she was exhausted. In a combination of pain and grief, she collapsed against him. Cailin held her close, the steady rise and fall of his chest like an anchor of goodness against the horrific memories of her family destroyed.
How long she leaned against him, she wasn’t sure, but when no more tears would come, she remained still. Shame had her wanting to pull away without looking at him, but pride had her raising her head and meeting his gaze.
* * * *
In the soft waver of firelight, her eyes, red with tears and dark with grief, lifted to Cailin’s, and at that moment he couldn’t look away. Though she hurt and suffered greatly, she had an innate strength he’d rarely seen. The intensity reminded him of three other special women he’d met: his friend Stephan’s wife, Katherine; Thomas’s wife, Alesone; Aiden’s wife, Gwendolyn.
Yet, however exceptional, Elspet would never have a place in his life. He was a man of war. Though he sought to reclaim Tiran Castle, once it was secure, he would rejoin King Robert. Many years lay ahead before he would return to his home or consider an heir. When time came to seek a wife, no doubt King Robert would dictate who he would wed.
Nor would he allow himself to ponder the point further. Well he knew how war severed a man’s dreams. No doubt a woman of such beauty would have many men interested in her, if not one who had spoken for her.
A trickle of possessiveness slid through him that another man would touch her. Cailin dismissed the unsettling thought. They had known each other but a few days, their first meeting far from inspiring trust.
His empathy came from anguish for her loss, a despair he well understood. After having witnessed her family murdered and a stepbrother seized but days before, she was heartbroken.
Understandably so.
A shudder rippled through her, then another. After a slow exhale, she nodded. “You may release me.”
With care, Cailin set her away from him. To give her time to gather her thoughts, he tended to the fire, adding several sticks until the flames grew and warmth spilled around him in a slow wash.
“I thank you,” she said. “I didna mean to fall apart.”
“That you were able to hold in your grief this long is a testament to your strength. Few women would have been so strong-willed.”
A fragile smile touched her lips, then faded. “I tend to be a bit more stubborn than most.”
He grunted, pleased that her voice had steadied. “A trait I have noticed.”
“How did you deal with losing your parents so young?”
Memories of his youth rolled through him, the old, familiar ache. “Years have passed, allowing the heartache to ease.”
“Mayhap,” she said, “but you remember, and however unwanted, are there not times your grief haunts you?”
“Aye, more than I wish.” He picked up a stick and drew a line in the dirt. “When I learned my parents had died in a hunting accident, outwardly I handled the loss, but inside I was inconsolable. Each day was a blur, my grief so strong that I didna live but existed. Every day, everywhere I looked—” he struggled for calm, “there was something I would see that was a reminder of my parents. A reminder of what I had lost.”
When he looked up, tormented eyes met his, the eyes of a woman who’d suffered, eyes that understood strife, and he found himself wanting to reveal more.
“Gaufrid assumed the duties of earl until I was of age to claim the title. Months later, when he advised me that he’d made arrangements for my education in Rome, I jumped at the opportunity to escape Tiran Castle, where around every corner ʼtwould be another memory, another reminder of the loss.”
She touched the braided leather hanging around her neck. “I would give anything to have a place to return to, to have at least memories of our time together, but there is naught.” Elspet lowered her hand. “As one of Lord Dalkirk’s men hauled me onto his horse, they torched our home.”
The bastard. Another sinful act to lay at his uncle’s feet. “A wrong I will right once I have reclaimed my title.”