At the Highlander's Mercy (10 page)

Her father would be proud.

When she returned to the bedchamber, Lilidh took some of the thicker threads and tied knots to remember all the calculations she’d made. Then she tucked the threads into her sleeve to keep it safe for when she needed it. For that moment, it felt good to be thinking ahead. To be making a plan.

The next interruption to her work came when a tray was delivered to her as sunset approached. Standing and stretching as a servant she’d seen in the kitchens entered with it, Lilidh waited while the girl put it on the bigger table on the other side of the room. Since Rob had left parchments scattered over its surface, she gathered them into a pile and moved them so as not to damage them.

Once alone, the documents proved too much temptation for her and she reached for the one on top of the pile and read it.

Latin was no obstacle for her—she could read in several languages, though not as easily as her cousin Ciara could. Ciara was permitted to work with her father on contracts and such
while Lilidh had only been allowed to watch silently during some sessions.

Watch and learn, lass
, her father and uncle instructed.

So she did, and she had learned much about the workings between clans and about contracts and, more importantly, about men. How they thought. The reasons behind their decisions. Now, looking over this offer of
friendship
from the MacKenzies, Lilidh understood the difficult place Rob was in.

The old laird had been approached and given some indication of willingness to switch his allegiance from the MacLeries to the MacKenzies—a move that had far-reaching implications. An alliance between them would shift the balance of power in the west of Scotland and create instability where her father strived for peace. On his terms, certainly, but peace and stability.

Still, there was nothing except a long-standing relationship to keep the ties strong between the Mathesons and the MacLeries. The old laird’s regard and friendship had resulted in Angus sending his illegitimate son to foster with her family. And that her father accepted Rob spoke of the respect between the two men.
Until he had repudiated their love and humiliated her before all.

And now? How would Rob go? If he had ordered her kidnapping, clearly he was trying to tweak her father’s nose as he left. Worse, he was trying to bring her family into war, for if the MacLeries rose against the Mathesons, the MacKenzies’ offer of support in this letter alone would guarantee their involvement. Had she become the instrument of war to bring down her powerful family and redistribute the power and wealth in the western Highlands?

Perhaps the other letters and documents held the answer to that critical question. It was as she reached for another missive that she heard the footsteps approaching the door. The heavier step and pace told her it was a man. When she heard the voices outside the door, she knew Rob had returned to his chambers.

Lifting the tray and carrying it to the bed, she then scattered the documents across the table, hoping Rob would not notice. Going back to the bed, she slid onto it and brought the tray nearer to make it appear as though she’d eaten there and not gone near to the table. When the door opened, she stuffed a piece of bread in her mouth and tried not to look guilty.

W
hen he’d awoken at dawn’s light, Rob had discovered her tucked against him, but even then, hardly moved from the night before. A man’s presence in her bed did not disturb her rest, even if she did not remember which man it was at her side. Cursing himself for that thought and the resentment it caused within him, Rob carefully peeled himself away from her and climbed from the bed. Certainly she was accustomed to a man at her side—she’d been married for months. At least until Iain died, whenever that was. Glancing back at her, he noticed that Lilidh did not move.

Siusan told him she worked without complaint and with little pause through the day. She’d mentioned that Lilidh had some difficulty
sitting and gave him a glaring look, but he dismissed it and her without understanding it. The expression was matched throughout the day by others, all from women, and all without further comment. Puzzling, but he had little time to think about that when so many other more important matters lay in his lap.

He had dressed quickly and left the chamber, giving the guards new instructions. Although he’d not said so, he knew Lilidh’s leg was the reason for her request to be held nearer to the kitchens. But his reaction to her request told him much about himself and his continuing attraction to this woman.

The day passed quickly for him, but if he tried to convince himself that he gave her no thought, Dougal’s smirk told him otherwise. The man was too observant, though he never said a word.

They rode to the boundaries of their land to check for any sign of intruders. He knew the MacLeries would arrive any day now and wanted as much warning as possible. Rob set more guards along the road to give him that warning. More of the villagers and farmers arrived each day, called in to the keep for safety. Their lands and most livestock would still
be in danger, but there was little he could do about that.

Though he complained all day long, Symon accompanied them, along with several others loyal to Rob. Better to keep him close at hand during these times than discover he’d caused more problems. Symon’s defensive strategies, when Rob finally got him to speak, were good ones, especially for their smaller numbers facing a larger force. His cousin’s surprise when Rob ordered them implemented made him laugh.

Genuine surprise filled Symon’s gaze when Rob shared the news of Iain MacGregor’s recent death. Was the kidnapping an unplanned event after all? But there’d been no explanation about how Symon knew Lilidh was travelling back to Lairig Dubh.

When he thought about it, he really did not want to find out that Symon was involved with his father’s death. They’d abided each other as children and young men and Symon had qualities that would make him an effective counsellor—if he could get past his anger and accept Rob as laird and chief. With Dougal overseeing the keep and lands and Symon as the commander of his warriors, Rob could see the Mathesons as a clan to be reckoned with.

They had many hurdles and obstacles to clear before any of that could happen. Indeed, there was every possibility that he and Dougal and Symon would be dead when all this played out and his clan torn apart and spread across the Highlands.

Connor had taught him that behind anger was usually fear and that was something few men could admit to having. Was this the basis for Symon’s anger—fear that he would have no place or be forsaken and unnecessary if Rob was chief? Or that his sister would be cast aside?

Rob had been so eager not to appear the fool, he might have ignored Symon’s suggestions or advice, believing that he must be in charge and come up with the best plans. Now, removed from most of his cronies, Symon spoke more openly and less aggressively than with them. Rob decided to involve his cousin in planning how to deal with the MacLeries.

By the time they returned to the keep, there was a tentative peace between them and Rob hoped he was wrong about Symon’s connection to what had happened to his father and Ailean.

Any rapport between them evaporated as they took dinner in the hall. Any steps to reconciling
were lost as Symon’s men and supporters pulled Symon back into the anger. Tyra, whose demeanour had changed as soon as Lilidh arrived, reacted to every mention of her name even though Rob refused to discuss Lilidh with anyone.

Not that he did not understand how his actions—claiming Lilidh as his before the entire hall—caused her ill temperedness. He did. And if his or her feelings were one bit engaged, he would care. But their betrothal would be one of convenience and for political reasons and not based on personal regard for each other. He knew it. She knew it. And, for now, he could not allow anyone to contradict or overrule him this matter regardless of any arrangements made for the future.

Dinner had become a battleground once more with brother and sister picking at each other and him with pointed barbs and implied insults. Finally, exercising his power once more, he had ended it by sending Tyra to her chambers before the last food was served.

Symon had remained only because he had arrangements to discuss with him. After a promising beginning to the day, it had gone to hell faster than he believed possible, leaving him with the nearly irresistible urge to throw
both of his cousins from the battlements with millstones, very large millstones, tied around their necks! He would think about the matter of Symon and how to find out his truths later.

Now, as he approached his chambers, he wondered how Lilidh would be. Was she pleased at the reprieve from the kitchen, or rather the steps, that he ordered this morn? Were his garments in worse shape than before?

But the biggest question was whether or not she would admit to reading the documents he’d left and would she speak about them?

‘Did she eat?’ he asked Tomas.

‘Aye, just now.’

‘Did she walk?’

‘Some. Earlier in the day,’ Tomas replied. ‘She’s been quiet since Beathas and Siusan left her.’

‘No questions from her? No requests?’ Her sense of curiosity had amazed him when they were young. ‘Why?’ or ‘how?’ were her most commonly spoken words. If she was feeling better, if her injuries were healing, she would begin asking soon. He hoped she had not lost that trait as she’d grown up and left Lairig Dubh.

When they shook their heads at him, he dismissed them and lifted the latch on his door.
Lilidh slid off the bed and stood, chewing something from the tray of food as she did.

‘You look well. How is your head?’ he asked as he dropped his leather sack by the bed and glanced around the room.

‘Better,’ she said after she swallowed.

She looked better—some colour back in her cheeks, not limping or wincing as much as last night. The fire was low and the room growing cool, so he put fresh wood in the hearth and got it back aflame.

‘Rob,’ she said softly and his body burned hotter than the hearth did at the sound of it. He stood quickly and turned to find her staring at him.

‘Yes?’ he forced out.

All she needed to do was utter his name in that voice and he lost his mind and almost let loose his self-control. She had haunted his dreams for so long before he finally banished the memories of their times together. And yet, every moment with her, brought them back in ways he could hear and taste and feel.

‘I am grateful to you for allowing me to stay here this day,’ she began, twisting her fingers in the fabric of her gown. ‘I know you changed your orders about me in front of your
people and how difficult that may make things for you.’

‘It is safer this way,’ he answered, trying to keep his tone light and resist the urge to take her in his arms and kiss the very breath from her. ‘You might escape through the kitchens.’

He watched the corners of her mouth lift and held his breath as her green eyes brightened, releasing the tension in her face and making her look as she did when she was ten-and-six years to his ten-and-eight. They would steal minutes or hours when they could, exploring new feelings and boundaries, until in one, brief, catastrophic moment he had ruined everything and lost her for ever.

‘I finished fixing your clothes,’ she said, pointing to a large basket of folded garments by the chair. ‘Since apparently your betrothed does not see to such things for you.’

Damn! Unable yet to think of Tyra as his betrothed, he’d also failed to mention it to Lilidh. Word travelled quickly, though, and now …

‘The elders requested the match, Lilidh. Surely you of all people can understand a political marriage.’

Her green eyes flashed and then went blank. She understood. Believing there was nothing
else to say on the matter and unable to wait, he asked the question he most wanted to know. ‘How long did you hesitate before reading them?’

A myriad of emotions and reactions passed quickly across her lovely face as she decided what to say. Her expression went to one of innocence. He’d known her too well and for too long to believe her attempt to avoid answering. ‘Did you wait until after you’d walked?’ She spun away from him, placing herself between him and the table. Reaching over, she selected one of the documents and held it out to him. ‘I was so busy with my chores that I only just noticed this.’

Rob took the letter and read it quickly, identifying exactly what she’d read—the MacKenzies’ final offer of ‘friendship’ to his father before his death. Some of it puzzled him. Some of the reasons to switch allegiances made no sense as though only half the conversation was being heard. What he wanted most right now, after the woman herself, was her reaction to the offer.

‘And?’ he prodded.

She stared at him for a second or two before laughing. The glorious sound of that laughter, in the midst of such a time and place and situation,
gladdened his soul that she was here. Regardless of the strange and dangerous circumstances of her being in Keppoch, he was glad of it.

‘You did it on purpose, did you not?’ she asked as she continued to watch him intently. ‘You left them all over the table because you wanted me to see these.’ Lilidh crossed her arms over her chest and stared once more.

‘Maybe I had no objections to your seeing them?’ He mimicked her stance and raised his brow.

She released a breath and looked at the documents on the table. Shrugging, she pointed at the one he yet held.

‘This was addressed to your father? Before his death?’ He nodded. ‘And it is the first exchange? The first contact?’

‘Something is missing, is it not?’ He asked her the question that had bothered him the most.

Before she could give her answer, the sound of feet shuffling by stopped her. Rob looked towards the door, expecting it to open. When it did not, he strode to it and lifted the latch. No one was there.

He’d dismissed the guards, so it was no surprise that they’d left. Glancing down the corridor
in both directions, towards the stairs and the other end, he saw and heard no one. None of the doors to the other chambers seemed disturbed, but he knew they’d heard someone outside his chambers. Turning to her, he put his finger over his lips. She nodded understanding. He closed the door and walked to her.

‘Would you be able to manage one flight of steps without difficulty or pain?’ he asked, looking for a cloak or something to protect her from the night’s chill.

‘Yes,’ she said as puzzlement filled her gaze. ‘Come then,’ he directed her as he grabbed a thick blanket and tucked it under his arm.

Rob guided her out of his chambers and to the left, away from the stairs. At the end of the corridor, he turned right into a small alcove in front of a door. Lifting the latch and pushing the door open, he held it for Lilidh to enter.

This stairway was one of two that led to the battlements and the ruined tower above. Though guards were always on duty there, they were less likely to be overheard as he was sure had happened in his chambers. He took the steps slowly, allowing Lilidh to set the pace and supporting her as she climbed. Soon, they reached the doorway at the top and he opened it. The wild winds pushed and pulled the door,
so he held it firmly until she climbed the last step and walked through. Then the winds took her, buffeting her and tossing her hair around her like an impenetrable cloud. She laughed as she gathered it all in her hands and tied it with some leather strips she pulled from around her wrist. The thick tresses under control, she accepted the blanket he’d brought and pulled it around her shoulders.

‘Walk a bit, but stay away from the edge,’ he said. Then, as she began to take a few strides in the direction he’d indicated, he went to give the guards new orders. Lilidh had slowed her pace when he reached her and they walked silently to the other side of the keep’s battlements from where they’d entered.

The sun’s warmth was long gone and the moon had begun its rise in the east. There was enough light provided by that and the torches around the perimeter to see their path. Once they’d reached the place he had in mind, just next to the entrance to the ruined tower, he stopped.

‘Who would spy on you in your chambers, Rob?’ she asked before he could.

He’d been thinking the same thing. The guards said no one had entered from that door and they’d seen no one until Rob. No servants
were expected on that floor until morning. His business with anyone in the clan was complete, so unless it was a gravely important matter, no one would seek him in his chambers. That only left nefarious reasons behind the presence and disappearance of an unknown soul.

‘I can think of no one, save Symon,’ he replied. Though after today, he wondered about his cousin. ‘But I do not think it was him.’

At her puzzled expression, he explained more about his discussions with Symon this day and the change or difference Rob noticed in him when he took his cousin’s opinion into consideration.

‘What was it about that letter that gave you pause? You had suspicions before I mentioned mine.’ She nodded and gathered the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Leaning her head lower to keep the wind from carrying her voice, she gave him the answer he was hoping for.

‘It felt as though I was stepping in when a conversation was already going on between them. This letter referred to subjects and questions that clearly had been opened before this one was written. Is there an earlier one?’