Highlander Medieval 06 - Her Highland Hero (27 page)

“I will kill the bastards should I ever see them again,” Marcus growled. “What of Fenton?”

“Lord Fenton would likely wish to see you dead also. But he was not with the other barons in the room that morn, discussing my being so wanton. I do not know what they thought when I told them I was still untried and that if I had to wed Lord Neville, he would have to force himself on me as I would never be his willing wife.”

Marcus was so angry, he could have killed every last one of them.

“But you see, dear husband, it matters not what they believe. All that matters is that you are my husband and none of them will ever have the chance again.”

“I canna believe you spoke thus to them.” Before she could say anything, he added, “Then again, I can. But you shouldna have had to.”

He kissed her tenderly on the mouth, to show her how much he treasured her, and how much he was glad she was his and no other man’s.

A knock on the door had him jumping free of his wife and out of the bed, grabbing up his sword, ready for battle—stark naked.

No one in their right mind would disturb Marcus and his bride unless trouble was brewing. “Aye,” Marcus called out.

“Lord Wynfield wishes to see you,” Gunnolf said. “He is adamant that he see you at once.”

“Is his condition worsening?” Marcus asked, setting his sword aside and grabbing his trewes.

“Mayhap he feels such.”

“Aye. I will be right there.”

“Rob is seeing to him. We were still drinking when the maid came with word. Your cousin asked that I inform you of the matter. I will wait for you.”

Isobel was out of bed in a hurry and slipping her chemise and then her
léine
over her head.

“You dinna need to come with me.” Marcus tugged on the rest of his clothes as she pulled on her shoes.

“Aye, I do. If he doesna make it, I would feel terrible if I had not seen him this eve.”

She slipped her brat over her shoulders and Marcus quickly joined her to fasten her brooch, and then they left the chamber. Marcus escorted her to the one where Lord Wynfield was staying as Gunnolf walked beside them.

“He is feverish and is moaning in pain,” Gunnolf warned.

That did not sound well. “Are you and your family leaving on the morrow?” Even though Gunnolf was not a blood relation, he was very much part of the family as they had raised him from the time he was a lad.

Marcus remembered the first time he’d met him, blue eyes wild, his hair long and unkempt, his expression grim and fierce, even though he was still suffering from a sword wound that would have killed a lesser man. In the beginning, Gunnolf had slept with the dogs. His choice because he was a Viking and not a Highlander and he had felt he did not belong with them. Until Angus’s mother coaxed him into sleeping in the keep with her sons in their chamber. At two and ten, Gunnolf had still been healing from wounds he’d received in battling the English. Some of his family had been killed and those that had survived had believed him dead and left without him. Marcus sometimes wondered if the Viking was even mortal because he seemed to survive every battle no matter how badly injured he was.

“
Ja,
we are leaving after we break our fast, with all haste, before you reclaim your ward and try to match up one of us with the lass. The Chattan brothers are willing, but me?” Gunnolf furrowed his brow at the disagreeable notion. Then he considered Isobel and smiled. “Unless I could find a lass as bonny as your lady, who would turn my world over in a heartbeat.”

Grinning, Marcus shook his head. “You will fall in love, my friend, and then you will wonder why you ever delayed the matter.”

They grew quiet as they reached the chamber housing the baron. Rob was standing outside, waiting for them. “He has been asking for Isobel as well.”

Marcus prayed the man would survive, but feared if he did not, how Isobel would fare. She might not have wished to marry the baron, but he could see she had a deep fondness for him, and Marcus loved her loyalty.

Isobel rushed inside as Rob shook his head at Marcus. Even if it did not look good, men who appeared to be dying could sometimes recover to everyone’s surprise. So Marcus was hopeful that it would be so.

Rob moved a chair close to the bed. Isobel took a seat while Marcus stood behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder, which she so appreciated. Her heart was breaking that the baron would come to give word about her father, to right a wrong with her, and then die from wounds he’d suffered from Laren MacLauchlan’s men.

“I am sorry, Lady Isobel.” Lord Wynfield offered his hand to her.

Isobel took his hot hand in hers and held tight, fighting the tears filling her eyes. She had seen many men die and no matter how little she knew them, she could not banish the sorrow she always felt—for them, their families, and friends. But she had known the baron since she was a wee bairn.

“I forgive you,” she quickly said, afraid if she didn’t, he would die and she’d never have the chance to tell him one last time that she had forgiven him with all her heart.

“I should never have sent you away.”

“Why did you?”

“I…I knew we had a traitor in our midst.”

Her heart nearly quit beating. “What do you mean? Who?”

He shook his head. “I sent men with you who were completely trustworthy, completely loyal to both your da and to you.”

“And they died.” But then she wondered who he had not trusted. “Who were my other suitors?”

“Lords Neville, Erickson, Hammersfield, me, Sir Halloran—”

“The captain of the guard.”

“Aye. Sir Edward—”

“One of the knights who owns his own manor.”

“Aye. And Sir Travon.”

“Travon,” Isobel said. “Why Sir Travon?”

“Your da knew the knight would love you dearly even though he did not have the social standing that the other men did. He is loyal to his lordship and to you. And he has always been good with dealing with the Scots at the border, so Lord Pembroke thought he might do well in his place.”

“Yet you did not send him with me as part of my escort.”

“I would have had he not become too ill that morning.”

Thinking how convenient that was for the knight, she narrowed her eyes.

“He protested most fiercely, my lady, when I would not permit him to go. He could not hold his food down. He was in the stable saddling his own horse, when he was forced to his knees again, losing everything he had eaten to break his fast. Sir Edward fought with him to make him stay behind. Sir Edward was the only man who survived the onslaught.”

“He was lucky,” Marcus quickly reassured her. “He had been grievously wounded, still fighting, but was the last of the men still left alive when we killed your attackers.”

Isobel agreed and was thankful that at least Sir Edward had been spared. “Did anyone know the men who killed ours?”

“Nay. Mercenaries, we suspect. I asked everyone on our staff if any of them recognized the dead men. But no one did,” the baron said.

“How did my suitors react when I had disappeared?”

“All of them were furious. I could not tell if any of them had anything to do with the despicable act. Sir Travon wanted to find you when Sir Edward was returned half dead. But Sir Travon was still too sick to travel. Sir Edward was clinging to life, though even in his wounded state, he wanted to go after you, fearing for your safety. We knew Laird McEwan would find you and bring you home.” Lord Wynfield cast Marcus an annoyed look.

“You canna blame me for taking Lady Isobel home with me where I knew she would be safe.”

“And you would claim her for your wife.” Lord Wynfield let out a ragged breath. “Nay, I cannot blame you.”

“Why did you have our men escort me to King Henry’s castle?” Isobel asked.

“I did not intend to. Ever. A friend of mine has a castle south of us, only a day’s ride. I planned for you to stay there until I could ferret out the traitor. Only Sir Edward knew where you were truly going. And I told no one to prepare for the journey until that morn. Not even him. Everyone else was told that you would be staying with the king’s court at Westminster. Even everyone who was escorting you, except for Sir Edward.”

“Someone must have known the route I would take.”

“It was the fastest way for you to go in the beginning. If they had not caught up to you so quickly, they would have had a more difficult time locating you. So we believe they had watched the castle until you left. Someone had to have sent word to whoever attacked your escort before you had traveled very far. Which means we still have a traitor in our midst.”

“Why did you not tell me the reason and where I was going? Surely, you did not believe I would tell anyone and the word would reach those who attacked my escort.”

Lord Wynfield looked steadily at her and she thought, though his face was flushed and he must be feeling badly, it did not appear that he would die. Not the way he was responding to her questions. She prayed with all her heart that his condition would not worsen and that he would still live.

When he would not say, she frowned at him. “You thought I would tell someone? Who? If you had sworn me to secrecy for my own safety and that of my escort, why would you think I would tell anyone?”

When he still didn’t say, she gaped at him. “Lord Wynfield, you cannot believe if I had told Mary where I was going, that she could be at the root of all this. Nay, she would never have been.”

Though Isobel was quickly thinking about how Mary had been so tearful when she had left. But that had all to do with her leaving her behind. Naught more.

“She told me the direction to go to rescue Isobel,” Marcus said. “She wanted me to rescue her.”

Lord Wynfield narrowed his eyes. “How did she know?”

“I dinna know. Maybe it was as you said. They would have gone in the one direction at the beginning. But it was her telling me that ensured I arrived in time to rescue Isobel and save Sir Edward. Mary told me that as soon as I brought Isobel safely home, she wished me to bring her to Lochaven to join Isobel. She is like a mother to her,” Marcus said.

“Aye, she is.” Isobel shook her head. “She would never have betrayed our men.” Then she frowned. “She is who you are thinking of, aye?” When Lord Wynfield still didn’t say, Isobel couldn’t believe the baron would think Jane would have been behind any of this. “Jane? You do not believe she would have had anything to do with it.”

“You know she has wished to wed one of your father’s knights, aye?” Lord Wynfield asked.

Isobel’s eyes filled with tears. Jane had been like a sister to her. A friend. Not just a companion. “Aye, she has oft mentioned it.”

“Do you know which she prefers among them?”

Isobel’s heart was nearly bursting with upset. “Nay,” she said softly, not wishing to hear it was one of her suitors. “Sir Edward? Nay, Sir Travon, who had suddenly become ill and could not travel with us?”

“She could have been hidden, listening in when I spoke privately to Sir Edward. Everyone knew several knights were getting ready to leave before we broke our fast. Just not where they were going or for what purpose.”

“A maid had to pack some of my things, and so Jane would have realized I was leaving.”

“Aye.”

“But she cared about the knights. Her father is one.”

“He was not tasked to go with you. If he had been, would things have turned out differently? I do not know. But she is the one who tended to Sir Travon when he was so ill, making much more of a fuss over him than Sir Edward, who was in a bad way for several days.”

Feeling sick to her stomach, Isobel couldn’t believe it. “When Jane learned my father was alive, how did she react?”

“She was not happy about it like everyone else was. I had been watching her for her reaction, already suspecting her complicity.”

“But there is more to what you suspect, is there not?”

“Aye. I was concerned that Sir Travon could not go with you. At first, I suspected he had poisoned himself so it looked as though he had accidentally eaten something that had disagreed with him. But he was so adamant about going after you, that we had to keep a guard posted at all times. Then I questioned Cook and her staff about the food that morning. No one had gotten sick. Sir Travon said he had not eaten anything other than what everyone else had to break their fast. He was talking to Sir Edward concerning where they were going that morn in the great hall, and Sir Edward could not tell him. But Jane was seated on the other side of Sir Travon.”

“She knows very well what can aid a man’s digestion and what can make him sick.” Isobel still could not believe the woman could have been so calculating and aid in the killing of their knights. “When…when you came here and Sir Travon accompanied you—”

“She was not happy. But this time, he did not sit beside her when we broke our fast.”

“And he did not get sick.”

“Nay.” Lord Wynfield squeezed her hand.

“You have questioned her?”

“Aye, but she swears she had naught to do with it. That she knows naught.”

“What does Sir Travon believe?”

“That she poisoned him, but he does not believe she did so for any other reason than ensuring he did not go with your escort. She would not say so, but I believe she thought with you leaving, she would have a better chance to encourage a relationship with Sir Travon. But she needed him to remain behind. She seemed as distraught as anyone did when we learned your escort had been massacred. It is the only thing that has saved her from a hanging.”

Isobel bit her lip. “Then who is the traitor?”

“I believe he had something to do with both Laird McEwan’s attack and the slaughter of your escort,” Lord Wynfield said.

“Aye. We both think so, too. Most likely my suitor had already planned to have his men in place no matter how late it was before Marcus left. But he departed much earlier than they had planned because Father only decided to send him away right before you were given word, aye?”

“True.” Lord Wynfield shifted his attention to Marcus. “Did you notice anyone following you when you left?”

“Aye, half a dozen servants and a couple more of the guards, curious as to what was going on,” Marcus said.