Chapter Ten
“Has he said anything?” Torr entered the lower tower room.
Douglas rose from his chair. “Nay.”
He stepped over the hole. Bending down, he lifted the grate from the opening. “Graham! Are ye ready to tell me who sent ye?”
Silence greeted him. He looked at Douglas. “Is he still alive?”
“Aye. Look.” The man grabbed the torch off the stone wall and stuck it into the blackness that was the pit. The flames reflected off Graham’s watery eyes as he squinted at the light.
He shook his head. “I understand loyalty, man, but ye may well die in there if ye don’t tell me which clan sent ye.”
Graham lowered his head and remained silent.
God’s blood, the man was stubborn. He motioned for Douglas to remove the torch and he replaced the grate. “Dump the water on him. I can’t be waiting for him to starve to death.”
“I doubt that will happen with Diana sneaking the man bread.”
He froze. “What?”
Douglas shrugged, but it was clear he couldn’t wait to tell what he’d discovered. “I saw her come down here with a loaf of bread two days ago. Braigh came up with half, but she came up with none.”
Anger and something else tightened his gut. The woman was a traitor, and he’d let her into his bed? He studied Douglas. The man was too happy to impart his news. Maybe he wanted her for himself and if he couldn’t have her, he wanted her in this very room? “Graham, is this true? Did a woman come down here and give you bread?”
There was no sound from the man below. He fisted his hands. He would find the truth of this. “Stay with the prisoner. I will send down water.”
Taking the steps two at a time, he made the Great Hall in seconds. His brother came in from the side entrance.
“Kerr! I need ye now!”
His brother raised a brow but met him at the high table where he took his chair.
“I was looking for ye. The men are waiting on ye for the hunt.”
He worked his jaw in an effort not to grind his teeth. The fire in his gut threatened to come up. “Tell Fergus to lead it today. I need ye to find Braigh and have a private conversation with him. He should be on the wall.”
Kerr sat opposite him, his elbows resting on the table. “This be something serious then. What would ye like me to talk to him about? Has he done something wrong?”
“Nay. Aye. I do not know yet.” He sat back and crossed his arms. He needed to control his emotions or he wouldn’t be able to think rationally. He took a deep breath and forced his voice to remain normal despite the need to growl. “I need ye to find out everything about Diana’s visit to Graham.”
Kerr’s brows lowered. “What? Why would she go to the pit? Who said she did? If he lies—”
“Douglas.”
Kerr shook his head. “And Braigh was guarding Graham at the time?”
He nodded, his jaw so tight he couldn’t respond any other way.
His brother stood, his doubt as to the truth of Diana’s actions clear. “I will talk to Braigh. He is completely trustworthy. I doubt she meant any harm by it.”
He dropped his arms and leaned forward. “I don’t care what she meant. I want to know what she did.” He scowled, his body tense as his mind settled on one concept—betrayal.
“I will talk to Braigh, but do not do anything until I return.”
He raised his brow at the command in Kerr’s voice. “And who made ye the laird?”
Kerr leaned over, his palms flat on the table, his gaze direct. “I know ye cannot be objective about this now that ye’ve taken the lass to yer bed. Ye need me to give her a fair hearing. Will ye wait?”
He met his brother’s gaze, noticing a strength of character he’d not seen before. He truly had a right-hand man for his clan. When had that happened? He broke eye contact and sat back. “Aye, I’ll wait for ye.”
Kerr’s stride was determined as he left the hall. If they housed another traitor, and he had been taken in by her charms, he had only himself to blame. He’d broken his own rule as she’d tried to point out and bedded her two nights in a row. Kerr was right. He could not be objective, but he didn’t care.
Every fiber of his being wanted to lash out at something, but logically nothing deserved his physical anger, not even Diana. Yet his mouth grew dry as he remembered her riding him, holding onto him, pleasuring him first.
“Beth! Beth, I need ale, woman!”
The plump lady came in from the kitchen, a wet cloth in her hands. “What ye be yelling about?”
“I need ale, now!”
“Humph. Very well, but don’t blame me if the pheasant I have aroasting burns.”
When Beth returned with the ale, grumbling to herself about men and their needs, he drank half a tankard before setting it on the table. He could wait no longer. He would find the pretty traitor and—
“I have sent Evan to fetch Diana from the bakery.” Kerr entered, scowling at him. “If ye keep that face, ye’ll make her too scairt to talk. Do ye want me to question her?”
“Nay!” He sighed. “Nay, I will do it. It is my duty.”
Kerr sat next to him. “Aye, but if ye need help, ye know I’m here.”
He nodded, too taken aback by his brother’s authority and support.
Diana entered the hall with Evan trailing behind her. “You needed to see me, Torr? Is everything all right?”
“Evan, you may return to practice.”
When he didn’t address her, she stopped at the table and clasped her hands in front of her. She glanced at Kerr then back at him.
Did she look to Kerr for support? After what they shared? He was her… He couldn’t hold back any longer. “Did ye talk to the prisoner?”
Her stance relaxed. “Yes, I did.”
How could she be so calm when he was discussing treason? “Did ye give him bread?”
She shrugged. “Yes, a little.”
His hand came down on the table hard as he stood. “What were ye thinking? Why did ye give him the bread?”
She’d stepped back and looked at Kerr.
“Ye will not find any help from my brother. He is not a traitor.”
At Diana’s gasp, he stiffened. “Do ye admit ye are a traitor?”
“No!” Diana stepped forward and propped her hands on her hips. “How could ye think me a traitor? I have done nothing wrong, done no spying on you. How dare you?”
He widened his eyes. “How dare I?”
Kerr’s hand on his arm made him look down at his brother, who shook his head. Kerr’s voice was reasonable. “Perhaps we need to gather all the information before we pass judgment?”
He took a deep breath. Kerr was right. He forced himself to sit back down.
Kerr motioned to the chair opposite them. “Diana, would you please sit and tell us everything about your visit to Graham?”
She glanced between them both and finally moved into the chair. “What do you want to know?”
Kerr smiled. “Braigh said you gave him half a loaf of bread and then stayed with the prisoner while he went to the kitchen to get ale. He wasn’t gone that long. What did you do?”
“I talked to Graham. I wanted to know why he had done what he did and what he thought…” she scanned the Great Hall before returning her attention to them, “…about the future of Scotland and this clan.”
He frowned. “Why would you ask him that?”
“I thought if I got him to talk that he would slip and say something he shouldn’t.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t think so.”
Kerr grasped her hand as it lay on the table and made her look into his eyes.
He fisted his palms to keep from tearing his brother’s hand from hers. What the hell was wrong with him?
Kerr squeezed Diana’s hand. “Why did ye give the man some bread?”
“It is what I bribed him with to talk with me.”
He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. It was as if someone had stabbed him through with a sword. He realized he had held out hope, but her confession of guilt was irrefutable. He opened his eyes to see Kerr pulling his hand back. “Did ye know the prisoner was allowed no food?”
Her eyes widened as her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She shook her head. “No, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I was trying to help.”
She was trying to help? He couldn’t stand the emotional riot she caused in him. “Damn it, Diana! Are ye saying ye didn’t know that by giving the man bread you would be betraying me, the clan, and the king?”
Her shoulders slumped. “No, I didn’t.”
He wasn’t sure if he was elated or he wanted to strangle her.
Kerr kept a steadier head. “What did Graham tell ye?”
She was silent for a long moment. “He told me that King Edward would be king of Scotland. He also told me he had betrayed this clan because of duty.”
He sat forward. “Anything else?”
Diana lowered her brows as she cocked her head. “Yes. When I asked if you would still be alive years hence, he said if you kept doing what you were doing, it wouldn’t be the arrow that killed you. But I have no idea what he meant.”
He reached across the table and grabbed her hands. “Are ye sure? If I keep doing what I am then it won’t be the Arrow that kills me?”
…
Startled, she pulled out of his grasp. “Yes. What does it mean?”
Torr stood abruptly, his chair toppling over. He was around the table and had her in his arms before she could take a breath. Picking her up, he spun her around until she thought she would vomit, but his laughter filled the hall, and she swallowed down her dizziness.
Kerr’s voice broke through. “Brother. Put the poor lass down. Ye are making her sick.”
Torr did stop, but he didn’t let her go. “Don’t ye see, ye have discovered who Graham was spying for.”
She put her hand to her head. Her brain must still be spinning because she didn’t have a clue what he referred to. “What?”
Torr gazed into her eyes, his own twinkling with triumph. “There are only two clans this far north who may support King Edward, Clan Comyn and Clan Cameron. Clan Comyn is known as the Lion and Clan Cameron is known as the Arrow. If my demise will not be by the Arrow then it means Clan Comyn is the one who sent Graham.”
His confidence was too strong. She didn’t want him to make a mistake because of something she said, especially when his days were numbered. “But aren’t there other clans nearby?”
He hugged her to him. “Aye, a number of them, but they support King Robert.”
She pushed away and stepped back, still not convinced. “But what if Graham was not here about the king but for another reason?”
Torr stopped smiling, but Kerr stood. “Only those embroiled in the war for kingship would use a spy. Clan raids and battles are fought openly and for obvious reasons such as food, horses, and women.” Kerr punctuated the last with a wink.
Oh, Shakespeare, she’d meddled again! What if it changed history? What if Torr was prepared for the Comyn and didn’t die? Her heart leaped at the thought. Ruthlessly, she ignored it. “So may I go back to the bakery now?”
Torr stepped closer. “Aye lass, ye may. But first I owe ye an apology for doubting ye. I’m sorry.” He didn’t give her a chance to accept his apology, but instead kissed her gently, causing both her knees and heart to melt. She grasped his shoulders to stay standing as his tongue breached her lips.
Kerr sighed loudly. “Ach, Torr. It’s the middle of the day in the Great Hall. Can ye not wait for that?”
She pulled away to see Torr’s apologetic smile and Kerr roll his eyes. Hastily, she stepped away. “I…I… ” There was nothing she could say, her mind was in turmoil, her feelings for Torr too confused. Spinning around, she strode from the hall, determined not to run.
She made it back to the safety of the bakery on wobbly legs. She wasn’t sure if it was the kiss, being called a traitor, or the fear of having changed history and being happy about it that had her so shaky, but the minute she stepped inside, Nessa made her sit down. Even now, the woman was fetching her water.
She needed to talk to Go-Lucky. Her time was almost over, so he should be appearing soon, but since Torr kept finding her in the middle of the night, that made it complicated. Maybe her best bet was to go to the garderobe like the first time. Torr wouldn’t look for her there, and Go-Lucky would. The only problem was it stunk so bad it almost made her sick.
Nessa came in and plopped down next to her, two cups of water in her hands. She was flushed herself.
She gratefully took the cup but shook her head at the other. “No, I think you need it more than me.”
Nessa grew redder if possible and silently drank.
The silence was her clue something larger than fetching water had occurred. “What is it, Nessa?”
Her friend’s eyes widened. “What do ye mean?”
She sat straighter and stared at her friend. The woman blushed from her cheeks to her chest. “You spoke to Evan.”
Nessa swallowed. “A little.”
“What did he say?”
Nessa twisted her hands together.
“Wait, he didn’t say much because he was doing something, wasn’t he?”
Nessa lowered her eyes, but finally spoke. “Aye, he found me by the well and no one was about. He walked me behind the blacksmith forge and…”
“He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”
“Nay!” Nessa’s head snapped up. “Nay, but he brought me to pleasure right there against the wall.”
She grinned. “And it felt wonderful, didn’t it?”
“Aye. It did. He said he wanted to bring us both pleasure, but I told him no. I would only allow that with my husband. And he actually smiled. Then he walked away whistling.”
She grabbed Nessa’s hands. “I think he’s going to ask you.”
“Truly?” The hope in her friend’s eyes was heartbreaking.
She squeezed. “Yes. He is planning something special. I’m so happy for you. You are going to say yes, right?”
Nessa rolled her eyes. “Oh aye. I’ve been waiting long enough.”
“Yes, you have. Do you think he’ll ask you tonight? The moon is almost full. That would be very romantic.”
“Well, if he thinks just asking will be enough to bed me, he will be very surprised. I’m not saying I’ll wait for a priest or anything, but at least until we do the ceremony in front of witnesses.”
She nodded. From old Arthur’s information, she was aware that priests didn’t travel to the northern Highland clans often. “Yes, you need to be firm about that.”
“I plan—” Nessa’s eyes went wide as a shadow came into the room.
She turned to find Torr filling the doorway of the bakery. He wore a deep brown brat over his leine, which made him appear even larger than he already was.
“Diana. I would like to speak to ye.”
She couldn’t see his expression as the light behind him left his face shadowed. She looked back at Nessa who elbowed her in the side, pushing her away.
When she turned back to Torr, he had his hand out to assist her to stand. Swallowing her own nervousness, she clasped it and followed him outside.