Highland Protector (16 page)

“I cannae.” He prayed Ilsabeth would understand why he could not leave even though the net of suspicion was tightening around all of them now. “ ‘Tis my clan.”

“And your blood, your own brother.”

“Nay, Henry isnae any brother to me. He didnae have to banish me for I had ne’er meant to go back there. But there are good people there. Old Bega and MacBean were born there and still have family there. The ones who came before my father and brother were good men and they built something worth saving. I cannae let what Henry does stain the honor they showed all their lives or the honor that was Lochancorrie’s before my father and brother sat in the laird’s chair.”

Peter nodded. “The stain spreads wide when one of a clan dishonors the name and that isnae fair or just, but ‘tis how it is. Especially if ‘tis the laird who spread the stain. So, I am to watch for Henry Innes, laird of Lochancorrie. His looks?”

“Much akin to mine only he is heavier, broader, more muscular and with a thicker neck. I havenever seen him for near to ten years but I dinnae think he will be difficult for ye to spot. He has but one eye and a vicious scar running down the right side of his face. A gift from his first wife. He claims she attacked him in a fit of madness and then hurled herself out the window. He ne’er did explain why she was in the highest of the tower rooms, the one Henry used as his private den so that he could debauch all the maids in peace.

“But I am thinking it will be the way he behaves that will give him away the most. He doesnae act like the laird of a small, remote clan. He acts just like a mon who thinks he has a right to steal a throne.” Which was one reason Simon could not immediately discount the idea that his brother was head of the group of traitors. “He is brutal, uses fists ere he e’en thinks of using words, and he takes to bed whate’er lass catches his eyes whether she wishes to be taken or nay. If ye ken any lasses in this town ye care about, Peter, best get them hidden. Henry sees rape as a mon’s right.”

“Are ye certain ye were bred from the same seed?”

Simon laughed briefly and even he could hear the bitterness in the sound. “Aye, I fear I am certain. My father was a brute as weel, but nothing like Henry. In the end, my father e’en feared him and he may have been right to do so. There is a verra good chance that it was Henry who killed him. Be verra cautious around Henry, Peter. He may act like some brute from a distant past, all brawn and brutality, but he has wit and cunning. He also has skill, fights like one possessed, and prefers to kill all enemies as slowly as he can.”

“There is a monster coming to town then, isnae there?”

“Aye, there may be. I am still hanging on to the hope that Hepbourn is wrong, confused, or has been lied to by someone. The possibility that he is right gives me e’en more reason to find the traitors, prove they are as guilty as sin, and prove that I deserve the reputation I have made for myself. Win the king’s favor all over again, if ye will. If I can do that then I may be able to keep the clan from having to pay for Henry’s idiocy. I may e’en be able to keep the lands.”

“Then ye would be a laird.”

“At best I would be guardian of Henry’s son for I wouldnae wish a child to pay for the sins of his father, either.”

“Does Henry have a son?”

“He has certainly done his best to breed near every woman for miles so I cannae see why he wouldnae. Ere I left he had buried two wives and three of the four daughters they had given him. The other was barely more than a child and he sold her in marriage to a mon who was old enough to be her grandfather. If Henry finally had the son he craved, from his third wife or one of his lovers, ‘tis something I shall deal with when this is done for there are too many things that could go wrong.” Simon stood up and clapped Peter on the back. “Heed me in this. Be verra careful if my brother does come into town. If ye miss him slipping out on ye, ye will pay for it with your life, for he will come up on your back and cut your throat.”

“Do ye have any other family?” Peter asked, his smile a little crooked.

“Three younger brothers and two sisters. My sisters have long been married and I believe they are content. I dinnae ken where my other brothers live, but they left home at a young age just as I did. I pray that means that they havenae been infected by the taint that twisted my father and brother. Take care, Peter. I will meet with ye again, same time and same place, in two days unless something happens that requires we meet sooner.”

Peter held his tankard up in a silent toast and Simon headed for home. He realized he had a need to be with Ilsabeth and the children. He was feeling sick to his soul over the chance that his own blood would be a traitor. Despise Henry as he did, he still found it hard to believe that the man would turn against his own king. As far as Simon knew, there was no real reason for Henry to do so. Henry had been banished from the court but he suffered no other ill, and he had well deserved to be banished.

What would he do if the leader of the traitors were Henry? Simon cursed softly. He knew what he would do. He would hand his own brother over to the king for punishment. It would be hard, and not because he had any care for the man, but because he was blood, his own laird despite throwing him out of Lochancorrie.

As he stepped into the house and heard Elen laughing, there was a lightening of his heavy mood. This was what he needed, Simon thought as the little girl appeared in the doorway to the great hall and smiled at him. He caught her up in his arms when she ran toward him, her little arms outstretched and bellowing his name in a surprisingly loud voice. The sight of Reid and Ilsabeth standing inside the door to his hall only added to the easing of his spirit. As he moved to join them he decided there was no harm in losing himself in the sweet honesty and laughter of Ilsabeth and the children. The troubles he had to deal with would still be there on the morrow and he needed this reprieve.

Ilsabeth awoke with an uneasy feeling flowing through her veins. She was not sure where it had come from. Her cheek was warmed by the heat of Simon’s broad chest. His strong, slender arms were wrapped around her, holding her close to him. Nearly all was perfect in her world for the moment. So why did the bitter taste of fear sting her tongue? She clung to Simon a little more tightly as she struggled to recall the dream she suspected was the cause of her uneasiness. Just as she began to grasp a thread of it, Simon pushed her onto her back and kissed her, wiping all other thought from her mind except for the taste of him and how much she craved the pleasure he gave her.

Simon nuzzled Ilsabeth’s neck as he struggled to regain his breath after a greedy bout of love-making. Ilsabeth was still sprawled beneath him, her own breathing still fast and uneven. Her passion was a gift. He just wished he had more time to enjoy it, but he needed to leave the warmth of their bed.

“Good morn, sweet,” he said, kissed her lightly, and then sat on the edge of the bed to stretch. “I wish I could linger here with ye for a few hours, mayhap e’en all day, but I must meet with Tormand in the wood north of town soon.” He gave in to the urge to kiss her again before finally getting up.

“I pray he has more news, useful news,” she said as she sat up, tucking the linen sheet around her. “I do like to hear that none of my family has yet fallen into the hands of the king’s soldiers, but that isnae truly helpful.”

She smiled when all she got in reply was a grunt as Simon slipped into the small room attached to his bedchamber where he could relieve himself and wash in some privacy. Even though he showed no qualms about striding around the bedchamber naked, he clearly preferred some moments of privacy. Ilsabeth admitted that she appreciated that small room as well.

“The message Tormand sent me implied that he had discovered something of importance,” said Simon, answering the question she had asked before he had left the room as he stepped back into the bedchamber and began to get dressed. “He also said that Morainn had seen something.”

“Tormand would have said if she had given him a name or the like, aye?”

“Aye, but in her visions she doesnae often see things like names. What she does see, however, can ofttimes show me a verra clear path to follow to what I need.”

“I hope that is true this time.” Ilsabeth grimaced when she realized she had not kept all of her growing frustration out of her voice.

Simon sat on the edge of the bed and caressed her cheek. He could understand her frustration; he shared it. He was not the one accused of crimes that could lead to a very unpleasant execution, however. Nor was his beloved family forced to hide in the hills. Each day had to be a torture of waiting for her.

“Dinnae lose hope, Ilsabeth.”

“Nay, I willnae. I but grow so verra weary of it all.” She placed her hands on his newly shaven cheeks and stared at him, idly wondering how she had ever thought that his eyes were cold. “I woke uneasy, Simon. I dinnae have dreams or visions as Morainn does, but ye ken that many of my kin have gifts. Some have nay more than a verra strong instinct, some have much, much more. I am nay sure what I have but something troubles me about today, something concerning ye. Be verra careful today. That is all I ask. Watch your back.”

“I always do, love,” he said, and kissed her before he stood up and left, warmed by her concern.

Ilsabeth stared at the door for a long time after it closed behind Simon. She wished she could recall her dream more clearly but she trusted how it had left her feeling. That uneasiness and touch of fear the dream had left behind were warnings. She could only wait and pray that Simon heeded them.

Simon reached the meeting place Tormand had indicated early but did not mind. He sat on a log and enjoyed the warmth of the sun, something he rarely had the time to do. There was a peace within him that he had not experienced for longer than he cared to recall, a peace that Ilsabeth had given him.

He wished he could ease her growing frustration but finding the truth took time. She worried about her family while he worried about her. All the frustration he suffered was born of his intense need to see that Ilsabeth was safe and that could not happen until the true killer of poor Ogilvie was found and the real traitors caught. He was certain now that Hepbourn was one of them but proof of that was elusive. No matter how deep his conviction was that the man was guilty, he refused to send the man to a certain death without proof. Vague overheard conversations were not enough and, even though Ilsabeth had heard condemning words from the man’s own mouth, he could not use her as a witness.

“Am I late or were ye early?”

Simon shook free of his thoughts and smiled at Tormand. “I was a wee bit early. I was just enjoying a rare sight of the sun. So tell me, what has our Morainn seen then?”

“My
Morainn,” Tormand said as he sat down on the log next to Simon. “Eager, are ye?”

“This game grows verra tiresome. I find I lack the patience I usually have.”

“Because ye worry over Ilsabeth?”

The way Tormand looked at Simon told him that the man suspected something was going on between Simon and his cousin. Simon had no intention of admitting to anything, however. If Ilsabeth wanted any of her family to know they had become lovers, she would tell them herself.

“She needs to be free of this burden, as does her family,” he finally said, and scowled when Tormand just grinned. “What was it that ye thought I needed to hear about?”

“Morainn is certain that ye hunt the right men–Hepbourn and his cousin. She cannae see how to trap them though. She said that could be because it needs to be done with no warning, that ye can and will do it without any help. Vanity and cowardice. That is what her vision revealed as their weaknesses. I believe I can easily guess which goes with whom.”

“As can I. We had already guessed most of that but ‘tis good to have it all confirmed in one of her visions. And, I now ken where David is and that he is definitely part of Hepbourn’s plans. Ilsabeth told me so but I needed to hear it for myself as I cannae use her word for it, can I? I heard enough to tell me that they plot all this together although David is already showing signs of unease about the plans being made. I but wait to grab him for I think it may help if I let that unease brew for a wee while.”

“How did that piece of good fortune happen?”

“Quite by accident. I stumbled across him and Hepbourn meeting in the woods.”

“Lucky. Morainn did say something else was shown to her. She said that one of your own is the head of the snake.”

“One of my men? Nay, I cannae believe that. I would trust them with my life and dinnae question their loyalty to our liege. Morainn must have mistaken what she saw.”

“I dinnae think so.” Tormand sighed. “She didnae mean one of your men. She meant one of your blood. She says it is one who already has a lot of blood on his hands. Morainn also said that included yours, but that makes no sense for ye are still here. So, mayhap she has misread what she has seen.”

“Nay, she hasnae. I nearly wasnae here,” Simon whispered, shock stealing the strength from his voice. Morainn’s vision only confirmed what he had overheard David and Hepbourn say, that Henry was involved in the plot to kill the king.

“What do ye mean, ye nearly were not here?”

Unable to sit still as he revealed what he saw as his idiocy and his humiliation, Simon stood up and began to pace in front of the still-sitting Tormand. “I ken that I once told ye that the last time I went home was to see my father buried, but that wasnae the truth. I was drawn back to Lochancorrie one more time. Ten years ago to be precise. By a woman.”

“Ah. And this woman is the reason ye havenae been back or even spoken of your kin since then?”

“Aye. Her name was Mary. She was my brother Henry’s third wife. Henry brought her to the court with him once, when he was allowed to still show his face there. I was there as weel, with my foster father, and acting as his squire. Part of my training. It wasnae easy, but I did my best to stay out of Henry’s sight and reach. Mary found me instead.”

“This tale doesnae end weel, does it?” muttered Tormand.