The Renegade's Heart (27 page)

It was the laird Alexander.

And clearly, he was vexed with his sister
Isabella.

Murdoch did not want to imagine what the man
might do to his disobedient sister. He could not even think of it.
There were men who beat the women of their household, men who
thought it fitting to give such women to the men in the employ of
the keep for a night. Murdoch would not call it pleasure, for the
lady would have none. It was true that this laird had not shown any
violent tendencies, but Murdoch did not know him well – and any man
could be pushed too far.

This laird sounded at his wit’s end.

Murdoch feared that in trying to save
Isabella, he had only endangered her. He should never have slapped
her horse and sent her away.

Although if she had remained in the forest,
he could not have guessed what toll the Elphine Queen might have
extracted from her.

He could not think of Isabella being
abused.

No less because it would be his fault if she
was.

And this changed his scheme. He could not
simply ask Isabella to confide the location of the relic that he
might retrieve it alone. Despite her conviction that her brother
would never injure her, he dared not leave her undefended within
these walls. He had to see her freed from Kinfairlie, which meant
he had to take her with him.

Too late, he wondered whether she would
listen to any appeal he made. Was she angry with him? He would not
blame her if so. Or was she as perceptive as Stewart believed?
Murdoch heartily hoped that was the case.

He considered the distance to the window,
concocting a plan to best aid his lady.

Soon.

* * *

In the chamber above, Isabella was unaware of
Murdoch’s presence. There were no Fae, to her relief, but her
brother’s anger would take some effort to dispel. She had to hope
that with time, he would calm down and listen to her side of the
matter. For the moment, it was clear that any word she said would
be turned against her. Isabella folded her arms across her chest
and remained silent, prepared to wait out Alexander’s storm.

“Did you tell him of the contents of
Alexander’s correspondence?” Rhys asked.

Isabella did not reply, seeing no reason to
condemn herself further.

“Father Malachy believed that you had aided
the rogue to escape,” Alexander continued, his voice rising again.
“I insisted to that man that he must be mistaken. I defended you!”
He flung his hands skyward. “I insisted that my sister would never
have allied herself with a criminal!” He eyed her again. “I invite
you to tell me that I spoke aright.”

“Murdoch’s cause is just,” Isabella said.
“His family bought the relic and would see their lawful property
returned. Is that not fair and right?”

“You have not told me that Father Malachy was
wrong.”

“We had no assignation.”

“But you know more of this Murdoch than you
should.” Alexander inhaled. “What of yesterday, when he seized you
and Hermes to flee the village? Would you prefer to tell me what
happened then?”

Isabella felt as if her cheeks were afire. If
she admitted that Murdoch had touched her so intimately, Alexander
would listen to no reason. She chose the tale less likely to
infuriate her brother. “This morning, I went to the chapel to see
if the stolen relics had been hidden there, and Murdoch surprised
me. He wanted to know who Rosamunde was...”

Alexander took a step forward. “Rosamunde?
How did he know of Rosamunde? What does he know of Rosamunde?”

“He interrupted your messenger – “

“Zounds!” Alexander bellowed. “Is there no
end to his treachery?”

“He has been wronged!” Isabella shouted back.
“And he perceives you to be the one responsible!”

“I do not have the relic!”

“I know this and I would defend you to him.
He believes you defend another, not that you are the villain, and
that because of my intervention.”

“And I should thank you for this, I suppose.”
Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will guess that you
have decided that I am wrong and that Murdoch is neither a renegade
nor a brigand, but an honorable man who has been wronged.”

“Do not mock me for thinking as much!”

Alexander continued, his tone relentless.
“And in this, you have decided that he is perfectly justified in
terrorizing those who would travel the road to my holding, to steal
from my family and my guests, to threaten the security of my family
and to risk all the goodness that we savor here at Kinfairlie.”

“I made him vow to halt his attacks.”

Rhys cleared his throat pointedly.

“I told you what the truth of it was!”
Isabella continued. “You are determined to see him convicted, and
equally determined to ignore the evidence I could present...”

“Nay!” Rhys roared. “Are you mad, Isabella,
to endorse this man’s nature? He is reckless and arrogant. He shows
a blithe disrespect for law and order, not to mention
courtesy...”

“He did not injure you,” Isabella
protested.

“I might argue that,” Rhys retorted.

“He did not steal from you.”

“My dignity is beyond price.”

Isabella gritted her teeth at the
stubbornness of these two men. “He did not
kill
you,
then.”

“And I am to extend my gratitude to him for
that?” Rhys demanded. “He terrorized my party and frightened both
my lady wife and son.” There was such fury in Rhys’ gaze that
Isabella took a step back.

“They did not know that you were kin.”

“And how would that have changed events? Not
for the better, I would expect. Indeed, he might well have spilled
my blood if he had known of my kinship to Alexander.” Rhys raised
his voice again before Isabella could protest. “He is a rogue and a
villain, Isabella, and you would have to be far more witless than I
know you to be to think him a man of any merit at all.”

“You do not know him.”

“And who would wish to know him, given what
we have learned thus far?” Rhys flung out his hands.

“Why do you think so well of him?” Alexander
asked quietly.

“Because I know the Fae are responsible for
the theft of the relics.”

Instead of being relieved, Alexander buried
his head in his hands. “First Elizabeth and now you. Is there no
end to the whimsy of women?” Then he fixed her with an intent look.
“There are no Fae, Isabella.”

Isabella swallowed. “Yet I see them.”

Alexander inhaled sharply. “You have spun a
tale, Isabella, and while it might be an entertaining one told by
the fire, I fear that you have mingled your wishes with the truth.
This man is not who you believe him to be, and you must trust me in
this assessment.”

“You must trust me!” Isabella protested.
“
I
am the one who has spoken with him.
I
am the one
who has heard his side.
I
am the one who can better assess
the manner of man Murdoch Seton is!”

“You are the one who has brought him
information from within these walls,” Alexander countered. “You
must face the hard truth, Isabella, that your allure to him might
lie solely in your usefulness.”

Isabella folded her arms across her chest.
Although she had once wondered as much herself, she now believed
otherwise. “Murdoch is not like that.”

“We shall disagree in our conclusions. Should
he wish to surrender himself to my court of justice and confess to
his crimes, perhaps apologize to those affected by his choices in
my household, I should be glad of his gesture and reconsider my
judgment. But he will not do so, Isabella. Do not yearn for
him.”

“The sooner you cannot provide him with
information, the sooner his passion for you will fade,” Rhys
said.

“That is not so!” Isabella protested.

Alexander’s voice dropped low. “Where are the
chalice and platter, Isabella?”

“I do not know. It was gone...”

Alexander did not let her finish. “Did this
rogue convince you to give it to him? Is that why you met him in
the chapel? Did he vow to you that this was the best way to prompt
my memory, to ensure that I had something to gain in exchange for
his family relic
which I do not possess
?”

“No! Of course not. I would not do any such
thing.”

Alexander lifted one dark brow and Rhys
cleared his throat.

They could not believe her capable of such
deceit!

No, they thought her beguiled.

“No one has been injured,” Isabella insisted.
“He ensured that the horse was shoed and returned. The coin has
been given to the villagers in Kinfairlie. The messenger for
Newcastle proceeded, only having had his message read. Rhys is
bruised but otherwise well enough. Murdoch does not ensure his own
gain, only that you are challenged.”

“But Isabella, it is the right of
no
man to challenge my suzerainty upon my own land, unless he wishes
to make war.” There was a hard light in Alexander’s eyes and he
spoke with a low heat that frightened Isabella. “Murdoch Seton has
found his war. I shall hunt him, no matter how far he might flee. I
shall see him imprisoned here at Kinfairlie and I will see him
stand in my court and confess to his crimes. I will judge him for
his crimes and justice will be served.”

“You will not catch him!”

“He hides in my woods. I shall burn
Kinfairlie forest to the ground, if necessary, to see him
apprehended.”

“And I shall strike the flint,” Rhys added
from behind Isabella.

Isabella looked between the two of them in
dismay. From their expressions, she doubted that Murdoch would
survive his capture. “But this is unjust! You cannot do as
much.”

“I can and I will.” Alexander pointed a
finger at her. “And you will have no chance to warn your champion
that the wind has turned against him. You will remain within this
chamber until this matter is resolved.”

“You cannot imprison me!” Isabella shouted as
Alexander walked past her.

Her brother paused and looked her in the eye.
“Aye, I can and I will. Indeed, it is my duty to do as much and you
cannot halt me. You have but to watch.”

“Alexander!” Isabella cried in frustration,
but her brother strode out of the chamber and did not look back.
Isabella lunged for the door, but found Rhys in her path, and he
was a formidable obstacle. He held her shoulders in his hands and
looked into her eyes.

“’Tis for your own good, Isabella,” he said
gruffly. “You cannot see the truth of it now, but in month or two,
you will thank Alexander for his good care.” Rhys backed Isabella
into the middle of the room. “Should you remember the location of
the chalice and platter, that detail might well turn the tide in
your favor.”

“But I do not have them! They were already
gone. The spriggans have them!”

Rhys shook his head. He turned to leave and
Isabella leapt after him, too late to keep the door from closing.
Isabella grabbed for the latch, but she heard the key turn in the
lock.

She was trapped! Isabella raced to the window
and leaned over the sill, the drop to the bailey making her dizzy.
She would never survive a jump from this window. She pivoted to
survey her prison and saw that there was nothing she could use to
aid herself, undoubtedly by Alexander’s design. There was only a
pallet in the middle of the empty chamber. She heard shouts in the
bailey and saw the ostler hurry toward the stables. The horses that
had only just returned were being saddled again.

Alexander did not mean to delay over this
business.

And there was nothing she could do about it.
The only way to save the situation was to tell Murdoch of the Fae’s
actions and intercept them before they reached Ravensmuir, but she
had no means to do that. Isabella never would have imagined that
she would be imprisoned in Kinfairlie keep, but she surely was.

Worse, she would be confined here until
Murdoch was dead.

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Stewart had never been so vexed with a squire
as he was with Gavin. The boy delayed over every detail and lagged
so far behind Stewart and Hamish that there could be no doubt that
he did as much on purpose. Stewart’s ire rose steadily as they rode
west from Kinfairlie forest, but he was determined to not grant the
lad the attention he evidently sought.

That resolve lasted until Stewart heard the
whistle from Queensferry, when they were yet far from the dock.

“For the love of God,” Stewart declared.
“What ails you, lad, that you would be so determined to earn a
lashing?”

“’Tis not for the love of God, but for the
love of my lord Murdoch,” the boy snapped in reply, his defiance
making Stewart yearn to cuff him. “My lord Murdoch is a man
unafraid to fight for what he desires, a man unafraid to stand for
what he knows to be true, regardless of the risk to himself.” Gavin
pointed back toward Kinfairlie, his face contorted with anger.
Hamish looked even more like a frightened hare than was his custom.
“Yet you, you who speak always of duty and honor, you abandon him
when he faces his greatest challenge.”

“I leave him because he commanded as
much...”

“To see us safe, no more than that,” Gavin
snapped, interrupting Stewart. “But he is the one who has need of
our aid. He put our welfare above his own.”

“Murdoch has no need of our assistance to
court a lady already smitten with his charms,” he said with care.
“This is a delicate matter best left to Murdoch alone. I doubt the
lady has such harsh plans for him as you believe and her kin will
heed his apology.”

“Nay, I know that there is other peril before
him! You are wrong to leave him.”

Gavin’s insolence should have earned him a
beating, but his conviction made Stewart wonder what he did not
know. “What have you seen?”