Kill or Be Kilt (16 page)

“Ye need to talk with Ruairi.”

“I want to talk with you.”

He said the first thought that came to mind to deter her. “We can nae talk in the dining hall. Someone will hear us.”

“Then come to my room later this evening when the servants are asleep.”

He stared at her with rounded eyes, astonished by her suggestion. “I donna think that's a good idea, lass. Remember what happened the last time we were alone in my chamber.”

“As I recall, that was the problem that started this whole bloody mess between us, was it not? I remember perfectly well what occurred in your chamber. On the other hand, you—”

“I donna understand why ye will nae talk to Ruairi. He is your laird.”

“How many times must I tell you that Ruairi is
not
my laird? Furthermore, you know my brother-in-law will not speak to me without Ravenna by his side.”

“And I'm sure for good reason.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I donna think 'tis my place to talk with ye about this. I am nae your family. Mayhap if I talk to Ruairi first, he—”

“For heaven's sake, Laird Munro. Meet me in my chamber later this eve.”

* * *

Ian waited until the darkened hours of the night and still had no clue if he should tell Elizabeth the truth about her family. As another alternative, he could've sought Ruairi and Fagan and asked for their advice, but he didn't, and it was too late now. No matter how much he pondered the matter, even if he had talked to Ruairi, the end result was the same.

Elizabeth wouldn't trust him.

There was no sense delaying the inevitable. Ian stood in the hall and lightly tapped on her door. When she lifted the latch, he turned his head. Not seeing anyone in the hall, he walked into her room and gently closed the door behind him. Even in a simple day dress, the lass looked beautiful by candlelight.

“Did anyone see you?”

“Nay.”

Elizabeth gestured to the chair and sat beside him at the table in the small sitting area. “First, please let me start by offering you an apology.”

Ian lifted a brow. “An apology? For what, may I ask?”

“I know my brothers-in-law are your best friends, and I understand why you wouldn't want to discuss my uncle or Daniel with me. I recognize that I've placed you in a difficult situation, but the truth is…I've always loved you, Ian. I can't deny it. And you say you love me too. I want us to talk with each other like we have in the past—honestly—with no secrets.”

Her words pleased him beyond measure, and he pulled her to her feet. When her eyes froze on his mouth, he slowly lowered his head. Standing on tiptoe, Elizabeth pressed her lips to his, his hands locking against her back. She was soft and warm, and he was very conscious of where the lass's flesh pressed against his.

He made sure his touch was gentle because the last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. When he planted a kiss in the hollow of her neck, he felt her knees weaken, and he tightened his grip.

His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time. When her body arched toward him instinctively, it was almost his undoing. Her innocent response to him was so powerful.

Before his actions got out of hand, he slowly pulled back, and something inexplicable passed between them. Clearing his throat, he whispered, “Elizabeth, we must stop, or soon I will be unable.”

An unwelcome blush crept onto the lass's cheeks. He was perfectly aware that he needed to gain Elizabeth's trust once again, but stealing kisses from her in the carriage or in her room in the middle of the night was not the way he wanted to go about it. He still wanted to woo her and win her love.

Ian gazed into her eyes. There was no other view he'd rather see. “
Tha gaol agam ort.
You need to understand those Gaelic words, lass, because ye'll be hearing them often. I love ye, Elizabeth.” He lifted his hand and brushed her fallen tresses behind her ear.

“Are you trying to distract me, Laird Munro?”

He gave her a roguish grin. “Is it working?”

“Not as much as you'd hoped it would. Why don't we sit for a while?”

Once again he sat at the table and readied himself to face the inquisition. Trying to collect his thoughts, he paused, not even sure where to start.

Elizabeth cast a patient smile and then said, “The Tullibardine sisters overheard their father talking about me having Highlanders as my chaperones. Not only did Lord Tullibardine speak of Ravenna's marriage to Ruairi, but he went on to say that Uncle Walter murdered Daniel.”

He chose his words carefully. “Lass, I still believe this conversation is best held with Ruairi.”

Elizabeth sighed. “You speak words of love, yet, you still don't tell me the truth.”

“I am nae lying to ye now.”

“Perhaps not, but you're not very forthcoming with information that I know you possess. How do you expect me to trust you when you won't talk to me? Tell me, Ian. Did my uncle end Daniel's life?”

There was a heavy silence as Elizabeth cast an unrelenting gaze upon him. Her question was like a double-edged sword. No matter what his answer, he had a pretty good idea what the consequences of his actions would be. His mind wandered, and he asked himself if he was willing to lose the lass by not speaking the truth. And then he realized that he'd answered his own question.

“Aye, Mildmay killed Casterbrook.”

* * *

Perhaps Elizabeth shouldn't have asked a question that she didn't want to know the answer to because Ian's response was a stab in her heart. She tried to keep her fragile control. Uncle Walter, a man who was like a second father to them all, had murdered Grace's former betrothed. Why? How could a man as gentle and caring as Uncle Walter kill another man? In her heart she had always known something had befallen Daniel because Ravenna and Grace had become masters at avoiding Elizabeth's prodding every time she inquired.

She felt as if her breath was cut off. “I want answers, and I seem to be the only member of the family who doesn't have them.” When Ian rubbed his hand over his brow, she added, “Even the Tullibardine sisters knew the truth about Daniel. I suspect now
I'm
the fool for not even knowing what was occurring with my own family. Why is that?”

Ian's face remained closed, as if he was guarding another secret. But she wouldn't have it and refused to give up. “I want the truth.”

“Ye know Mildmay and Casterbrook worked for the king.”

“Yes. My uncle had been in the king's employ for as long as I can remember. He was His Majesty's most trusted advisor, his friend.”

“Aye. Mildmay was the king's friend and advisor, but he was more than that.”

A puzzled expression crossed her face. “What do you mean?”

He reached out and gently touched her arm. “Lass, this may be difficult for ye to hear, but I donna know any other way to say—”

“For heaven's sake, Ian, just tell me.”

“Your uncle was a spy for the Crown.”

Elizabeth was rendered speechless. She had to study Ian to make certain he wasn't jesting. Even though he hadn't spoken another word, his face spoke for him. He was telling her the truth. Uncle Walter had been a spy. Her thoughts raced, wanting to put all the pieces together.

“Ye frighten me when ye donna say anything. I can nae read your thoughts, lass.”

“Apparently, my uncle was not a very good spy if you knew he had worked for the Crown.”

Ian sat forward. “Nay, that's where ye're wrong. Your uncle had been in service to the realm for a verra long time. Ye know he served Queen Elizabeth and then worked for King James as the king's advisor. Mildmay was a skilled man. He also loved ye and your sisters like ye were his own daughters.”

She rubbed her fingers over her eyes. “So if my uncle was a spy for the king, why did he kill Daniel?”

“Casterbrook had ambitions of his own. Grace was only one of his pawns in a grander scheme.”

“If he did use Grace for a purpose, I can understand my uncle being cross, but to
kill
Daniel over his ambitions? That's not like Uncle Walter at all. The man that I'd known all my life was a gentle soul. I can't fathom he'd end anyone's life, let alone one betrothed to my sister.” Her head was puzzled by new thoughts, and she wanted answers faster than she could comprehend them. “Do my sisters know of Daniel's treachery? Do they know our uncle murdered him?”

“This is why I wanted ye to talk with Ruairi, lass.”

“It doesn't matter who tells me. I need to know the truth.”

Ian's face clouded with uneasiness. “Grace was going to break off her betrothal before all this happened. Casterbrook harmed your sister, and for that, he was killed. If ye must know, it was Fagan and Mildmay's swords that sent the bastard to his maker. 'Tis naught I would nae have done myself if someone had harmed ye, Elizabeth.”

“Grace never said a word about any of this.”

“Ravenna and Grace decided nae to tell ye and Kat. Ye are…er, were young and innocent. Your sisters wanted to protect ye.”

Elizabeth didn't even attempt to wipe away the look of disgust that crossed her face. “Of course Ravenna would've known too. I can't believe the gall of the two of them. They didn't think it was necessary to tell me anything, just let me hear the truth from a stranger at court.” Something clicked in her mind. “I wonder if Mother and Father knew of Uncle Walter's craft. You know my father was Queen Elizabeth's principal secretary until his death.”

When there remained a certain tension in Ian's behavior, her eyes narrowed. “I will have the entire truth, Laird Munro, not just a part.”

“Your father…” When he paused mid-sentence, she stirred in the chair, and her fingers tensed on her lap. “Your father was also a spy, lass.”

“Bloody hell.” Elizabeth couldn't stop the words that escaped her. “This conversation keeps getting better and better. Is there no end to this sordid tale?”

“Ye wanted to know the truth. I am giving it to ye.”

She shook her head to clear the cobwebs. “Yes, I'm sorry. I just can't believe…my father too?”

Ian stood and pulled her to her feet. He brushed his thumb lightly across her cheek. “Ye've heard more than enough for one eve. The sun will be up in a few hours, and ye need to rest.”

“How can I possibly sleep now?”

He took her hand and guided her to the bed. “Lie down.”

She was in no mood to argue. Heaven help her because she was completely numb. He leaned over her, covering her with a blanket and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Try to sleep, lass. I know my words come as a surprise, but everything always looks brighter in the morn. Trust me. We can talk later when your thoughts are clear.” He blew out the candles and left the one beside the bed lit.

When he reached for the latch on the door, she called out, “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“I'd do anything for ye, lass.”

“Uncle Walter did not have a carriage accident, Ian. Someone is trying to kill all the members of the king's Privy Council.”

* * *

Ian hadn't slept at all. Although his room was currently a safe haven, he'd have to leave it and face Ruairi sooner or later. He only prayed that he'd reach his friend before Elizabeth. Not being able to delay the inevitable any longer, he walked into the hall and knocked on Ruairi's door. When Ruairi greeted him with a smile, Ian couldn't stay the trace of guilt he felt for telling Elizabeth her family's secrets.

“
Ciamar a tha thu?
” asked Ruairi.
How are you?

Ian entered his friend's chamber and closed the door behind him. “
Tha gu math.
”
I am fine.

“How was the theatre? I did nae receive word that anyone was killed. Am I to assume that Condell still lives?”

“For the moment…but I need to talk with ye about something else. Lady Elizabeth met two sisters at court—”

“The twins?” Ruairi sat on the bed to put his boots on.

“Aye. The lasses overheard their father discussing Ravenna, Grace, and Casterbrook. More than likely, the man did nae know his daughters were listening to his every word. One sister asked Elizabeth if the rumors were true.”

Ruairi squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I'm afraid to ask, but which rumors would those be?”

“If Mildmay killed Casterbrook…”

“Damn.”

“Aye.”

“And what did Elizabeth say in response?”

Ian shrugged. “What could she say? She did nae know anything about her uncle and Casterbrook.”

Ruairi stood. “Good. Let's make sure that she does nae find out. If the lass asks ye any questions, send her to me.”

Ian turned away and ran his hand through his shortened hair. “'Tis too late.”

“
Dè thuirt thu?
”
What did you say?

He spun around and faced Ruairi. “
Tha mi duilich.
”
I am sorry.

“Munro! What the hell did ye say to her? Why did ye nae tell her to ask me?”

Ian let out a heavy sigh. “'Twas nae for lack of trying, believe me. I lied to the lass about something else when I should nae have; therefore, she did nae trust my words when I told her that I loved her. Ye're my best friend, Ruairi, and Elizabeth knows that. Of course I would've known a piece of the tale. Furthermore, if the lass is one day going to be my wife, she needs to trust me. Ye, of all people, should know how difficult a task 'tis to deny a Walsingham. Ye live with four of them. The lasses are tenacious.”

“What exactly did ye tell her?”

“She knows Mildmay and her father were spies for the Crown. And I told her that Casterbrook had ambitions of his own and used Grace as a pawn. She knows Fagan and Mildmay killed him for his treachery.”

“And what of Ravenna?”

“I did nae tell her of your wife's involvement with the Crown.”

“Well, I'm sure as hell nae going to be the one to tell her. Whatever ye do, donna answer any more of her questions. Ravenna will be the one to talk with her when we return from court.”

Ian sighed. “There is more.”

“And what is that?” Ruairi stretched his neck from side to side.

“Elizabeth is a smart lass. She knows her uncle was nae killed in a carriage accident.”

“There is nay proof to believe otherwise.”

“She's a Walsingham. The lass is nae going to leave well enough alone. Ye know that.”

“Then 'tis up to us to make sure that she does.”

* * *

Elizabeth opened her chamber door, and Ruairi was standing in the hall with a fist raised in midair.

“I was just going to knock. I wanted to talk with ye before ye broke your fast.”

She gestured him in, and he closed the door behind him. “Munro told me what happened last eve.”

“Of course he did,” she said dryly.

“Donna be cross with him. Do ye have any other questions? Ask them now because ye can nae be prodding anyone at court, lass.”

“I'm having a difficult time understanding why my sisters never told me anything about Uncle Walter, Daniel, or my own father. I had to find out at court—of all places.”

“We all have reasons to protect those we love, lass. 'Tis why your family has always kept ye shielded from the aristocracy. I would nae be too angry with your sisters. I'm certain Ravenna and Grace will talk with ye when we return from court.”

She studied her brother-in-law intently and didn't want to miss his reaction when she asked the next question. “You are an intelligent man, Ruairi. My uncle's death was no accident.” She didn't miss his hesitation.

“I can nae deny that other men of the council have been…targeted.”

Her voice raised a notch. “Targeted? Don't you mean murdered?” When he attempted to grasp her shoulders, she pulled away.

“Lass, there is nay proof Mildmay was killed.”

“Then we need to find it.”

A chuckle escaped him. “And where would ye think to look, lass?”

“I don't know, but we can't let someone get away with murdering my uncle, spy or not. We have to do something. Perhaps when you meet with the king you can talk to him about—or maybe I can speak with the king.”

“Elizabeth, how was the theatre?”

From her brother-in-law's abrupt redirection and the stern expression he held on his face, he was telling her that this particular conversation was over. “Are you truly going to ask me about the theatre right now?” When he gave her a dismissing look, she added, “
Henry VIII
was a lovely play. All the actors were superb.”

“Condell?”

“Yes. He was a believable King Henry. I'm going to meet him at noon. He's going to show me Anne Boleyn's apartments above the gates.”

Ruairi gave her a measured gaze. “I assume Munro is accompanying ye?”

“Yes.”

“Elizabeth, ye are my sister-by-marriage, and Munro is like my brother. I know he told ye that he loves ye, and he said that ye told him the same.”

“That's not exactly a secret, Ruairi.”

“I'm pleased that he finally realizes how he feels about ye too, but mayhap 'tis nae the best of ideas to keep Condell close at hand. Both men are trying to woo ye, which can only end in disaster.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ye are the first lass who has ever seen Munro for the man he truly is. He thinks because he is nae fair of face that nay lass would ever desire him.”

She was tired of having the same conversation. “Why does everyone keep saying that he is not fair of face? I think Laird Munro is very handsome.”

“Be that as it may, some may say Condell is nae lacking in looks.”

She laughed to cover her annoyance. “Ruairi, just because Mister Condell has been blessed with a handsome visage does not make him any better of a man than Ian…er, Laird Munro.”

“I'm only saying to be careful with Munro. In truth, I donna want to see either of ye hurt—or Condell.”

* * *

“My only hope is when Elizabeth finds out Ravenna was a spy for the king that she does nae have my wife's same reaction. Grace was relentless in trying to learn spy craft from Ravenna,” said Fagan.

Ian swallowed what was left of his biscuit. “Aye, we know.”

“Let's hope Ruairi curtails the lass's questions until we get back to Scadbury Manor. Ravenna and Grace will need to talk with her.”

“Aye.”

Fagan gave Ian a knowing grin. “Did ye manage to stay awake for the play?”

“'Twas a wee bit difficult, but I managed.”

“And how was everything between ye and Elizabeth?”

“I donna know.”

Fagan placed his cup down on the table. “What do ye mean ye donna know? Ye were there, were ye nae?”

“The lass did nae want to talk about me or Condell. She said she wanted time where naught else came to mind.”

“Dinna fash yourself over that. Even though Elizabeth did nae want to talk, at least she still wanted to be with ye. Grace tells me to leave her the hell alone. God, I miss my wife. 'Tis nice nae to guess what a lass is thinking.”

“Och, aye. Nay one ever has to render a guess with your wife.”

“I do love that about her.”

Elizabeth and Ruairi entered the dining hall, and Ian rose, pulling out the lass's chair.

“Thank you.” She glanced at him as she sat, giving him a small smile.

“I heard Munro did nae snore too loudly at the play,” said Fagan.

“He did well.” Her eyes met Ian's, and then she lifted her hand and touched the ends of his cut locks. “This is the first time I've seen you with your hair down since you've cut it. It looks very becoming on you.”

When her hand rested on his shoulder a moment too long, Ian heard himself swallow. He also realized everyone at the table was dead silent. He cast a quick look at Fagan, who stared at him with widened eyes, and Ruairi sat frozen with a biscuit at his lips. The moment was lost when Elizabeth pulled her hand away.

After everyone broke their fast and Elizabeth dressed for court, Ian managed to steal a private moment with her before she stepped into the waiting carriage. Gray clouds loomed overhead, and when a rumble of thunder echoed through the sky, he knew their moment would be just that.

“How are ye feeling this morn?”

“Weary, especially since I didn't sleep much after our talk.”

He gave her a tender smile. “I want to make certain that ye know nae to ask questions at court about anything we've discussed, lass. Ye donna want your words falling on the wrong ears, and I donna want to see ye hurt.”

“Yes, Ruairi lectured me about the same. Unlike Grace, I can keep my mouth closed.” She looked up at the sky. “We probably want to make haste before the rain is upon us.”