Mischief Afoot
Ewan left David to take care of the horses in the stable and hurried in the direction of the laird’s chamber, perturbed not to find Mungo among the men gathered in the hall. He toyed with the notion of inquiring about the giant’s whereabouts, but that might lead to an argument and he sensed there was no time to waste.
His fleeting presence caused a lull in the conversation, but no one followed him into the passageway.
Irritated to discover no guards keeping watch, he rapped on Kendric’s door. The oversight would have to be remedied.
Adjusting his plaid and hoping he didn’t look too much like a man who’d ridden hard for several miles, he smiled as the door opened, looking forward to some teasing and mayhap a wee flash of anger from Lady Shona’s green eyes.
Jeannie quickly detected his disappointment. “My niece is nay here, my lord. But dinna look so crestfallen. She’s gone to find ye.”
Evidently, everyone’s true identities had been revealed.
To his relief, Kendric lay propped up on pillows, Ruadh beside him on the bed. His eyes opened a crack when Ewan approached and cleared his throat. “Laird MacCarron,” he said with a respectful bow, “I’m Ewan Mackinloch, yer niece’s betrothed. I fear there’s mischief afoot in the castle and I intend to root it out.”
“Aye,” Kendric rasped. “The buzzards are nay doot gathering. I kent ye’d be a strong mon. I thank ye.”
Ruadh woofed as the laird drifted back into sleep.
Ewan spoke to Fynn. “How long since Lady Shona left?”
Jeannie frowned. “A fair while.” She turned to look at Fynn who quickly put his arm around her waist. She leaned into him, clearly finding comfort in his support. It appeared things had progressed in a very short time.
“David and I were out riding,” Ewan explained, suddenly feeling optimistic that Shona had decided to search for him. “Mayhap she didna think to look in the stables.”
Fynn shook his head. “Nay, I told her ye’d followed Mungo.”
The color drained from Jeannie’s face. “It canna be true that Ailig has returned.”
“Thin, dark-haired man, with a wicked scar down his cheek?” Ewan asked.
Jeannie closed her eyes. “Aye,” she breathed. “A result of the fight with my older brother.”
Fynn clenched his jaw. “I dinna ken what he did to ye,” he declared, “but rest assured he’ll nay live long.”
“I’m of the opinion the Morleys intend to claim the lairdship,” Ewan said. “I want a guard on this door at all times. Men ye trust, my lady.”
Jeannie nodded, forcing a smile. “We perhaps shouldna worry too much. Knowing my niece, she likely went to her chamber to arrange her hair. She was afraid ye might be a wee bit aggravated and wanted to look her best.”
Foreboding knotted Ewan’s gut. “Lead the way there,” he said.
*
Shona hoped the desperation in her eyes would alert David as he came towards them in the stables. The blow from behind took him by surprise and dropped him like a felled tree. Moira wailed, but stopped when the dagger was pressed to her throat.
Shona had thought the man who’d struck David on the head was trustworthy. Watching him grasp the youth’s ankles and drag him into an empty stall, she worried about the strength of Morley’s support among the clan.
“Tie him up with the maid,” Mungo hissed.
Relief threatened to buckle her knees. At least Moira would be safe.
“Simpler just to kill them both,” his henchman said.
Shona clenched the hairpin tightly, wishing she held something more lethal than a hair adornment. Banking on Mungo’s reputation as a superstitious dullard, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Best watch yer back if ye murder them. I’ll haunt ye even after I’m dead.”
He gnawed his lip. “Bind them,” he repeated.
While his man bound and gagged Moira and David, Mungo hoisted Shona onto his saddle, then mounted behind her. “We’ll meet at Conger’s Rock,” he declared, spurring his horse out of the stables and through the open gates.
He held her fast as they galloped away. The hairpin dug into her flesh. She relished the discomfort lest she scream out her terror.
*
The disarray in Shona’s chamber added to Ewan’s fear she’d not gone willingly.
Jeannie confirmed his suspicions. “Moira would ne’er have left a chamber in such a mess. Look at all the lovely gowns strewn about.”
Fynn emerged from the boudoir. “Empty. Just a hairbrush and a few pins.”
Jeannie gasped. “I was right. She took down her hair.”
Despite the uncertainty, Ewan felt a small surge of satisfaction. She had wanted to look her best—for him. The turmoil in his innards was a clear sign Shona meant more to him than just a young woman who might need his help. They’d shared only the briefest of kisses, but his heart knew.
He muttered an oath, filled with guilt that his stubborn determination to avoid the marriage had led to her abduction.
Be brave. I’ll nay let ye down again.
He hoped Jeannie was strong enough to deal with the dire possibilities. “Mungo will try to force her into wedlock. Where will they take her?” he asked.
Fynn stroked her back as she sobbed into his chest. “I dinna ken, and if Ailig…”
Ewan raked a hand through his hair, frustrated he was in unfamiliar territory. “Think, my lady. A chapel. A priest who’s nay too particular about the rules.”
Jeannie looked up, tears rendering her strange eye even more peculiar. “The Morleys hail from Glen Nevis. Ailig may have been hiding there after his banishment. It’s remote.”
Ewan weighed his options. “A foray into a hostile village with only three of us doesna stand much chance of success, especially since we dinna ken the lay of the land.”
“Aye,” Fynn agreed. “And we canna leave the laird unguarded.”
Ewan paced. “Seems to me there were a number of men in the hall who didna support Mungo.”
Jeannie sat on the edge of Shona’s bed. “No surprise. He isna well-liked.”
“Do they champion another as the next laird?”
Jeannie dabbed her eyes with a kerchief Fynn produced from who knew where. “After my older brother died, Kendric took over, though reluctantly. As far as I ken, there’s been only distant rumblings about Shona’s husband succeeding to the chieftaincy when it became known she was to wed a Mackinloch.”
“That’s what Mungo’s afraid of,” Fynn said.
His words conjured an ugly suspicion. “This recent accident. How did it happen?”
“I dinna rightly ken. The men were out hunting deer to fill the larder for yer visit. My brother’s horse threw him. Kendric might be able to tell us, though sometimes these things happen so fast.”
“Was Mungo part of the hunt?”
The lazy eye was suddenly perfectly still as she stared at Ewan. “Nay, but he came soon after. Too soon mayhap. And there were likely other Morleys in the hunting party.”
“Fynn, get back across the hall and bar the door of the laird’s chamber. Stay there until Lady Jeannie returns with armed guards, then find me. I’ll be looking for men willing to help me search for Shona.”