The Thief (7 page)

With a mental list of cheese, loaves and larger-sized clothes for the children stored in her mind, Kenzie tucked Kelsey in her bed and kissed Martha’s weathered cheek. She accepted the cloak the older woman offered, promising to return it as soon as she could. As much as she longed to stay, she couldn’t risk the harm she’d bring to these innocent people if she were discovered among them.

Her footfalls as heavy as the leaden weight in her heart, Kenzie left the only sense of family she’d ever known; her destination was the cold walls of Irvine Keep.

***

Irvine Keep’s gate boomed closed behind Lachlan and his small band. He peered up at the almost full moon’s high position in the star-studded sky and sucked in a chest full of crisp clean air. Not long now and he’d be home. Not long now and he’d be wed. Not long now and he will have honoured the first part of his father’s dying wish.

‘A good sign for a happy marriage,’ said the man riding beside him.

Lachlan cocked a brow and glanced at Father Tremayne, the man of God he’d woken in Dumfries and then escorted to Irvine Keep. The priest appeared more than happy to oversee Lachlan and Kenzie’s union without asking too many questions. Lennox hadn’t bothered to show his face while Lachlan waited for Ailsa to gather her things; he was likely still sulking for not gaining the number of cattle he’d asked for in exchange for Lachlan wedding the daughter he knew nothing about. Least of all her reiving activities.

‘A good sign? How so?’

‘‘Tis said to be unlucky to wed during a waning moon. If you believe such, then you’ve chosen well for ‘twill be a full moon tomorrow night.’ A smile tilted the corners of the older man’s mouth.

A good sign? Lachlan just wanted it done. He wanted to rise from his bed feeling restored and alive, instead of feeling tired and worn from the weight of his father’s dying wish. ‘Aye, a good sign, then,’ Lachlan said, sensing the priest’s need for a response.

‘‘Twill be refreshing to perform a marriage ceremony rather than burial rites. I’ve laid too many to rest in recent months.’ Sadness weighed heavily in the priest’s tone.

Lachlan nodded, sobered. Several small outbreaks of the Black Death had recently plagued the Borders and beyond. Lachlan’s people had escaped untouched, but not so his friend William, whose clan had lost several people to the plague. Lachlan struggled to comprehend how helpless Will must have felt. As lairds, they did all in their power to ensure the security and survival of the men, women and children who fell under their banner of protection. But how did one protect those for whom they were responsible from an enemy they couldn’t see?

One bright spot in the horror was that Will had gained his English wife in the aftermath. He’d never seen his friend happier. But Lachlan’s circumstances were different to Will’s. Lachlan didn’t expect to find happiness in marriage, but he hoped, at some point, to be content. He wished no less for his bride. And hoped to prove it.

Twisting around in his saddle, his regard settled on the young maid he’d asked to join Kenzie at Castle Redheugh. Despite her fear of riding, Ailsa had agreed. He kept their pace slow for her sake, but still she sat stiffly on her own mount, her pale face catching the moon’s glow. Duff and Lundy rode closely on each side, offering quiet words of encouragement. He’d know soon enough if his spirited little thief would be pleased with his surprise.

Lachlan studied the darkened landscape, the small crests and dips masked by the night. Though the journey home was neither long, nor gruelling, he led them slightly off course to where a line of trees, stripped of greenery by the pending winter’s cruel breath, stood along the banks of a stream. Although the top half of the burn was situated on Irvine land, Clan Elliot lands began a slight distance on the other side. Despite the frigid weather, the stream flowed too swiftly at one point to freeze. Drawing De Brus to a stop, Lachlan once again scanned the shadows. The sound of running water spilling over icy rocks filled the silence.

Satisfied no one else had a pressing need to be out and about at such a ridiculous hour on such a night, he lifted his hand and gave the signal to dismount. His saddle creaked as he eased his weight to the ground.

‘Duff. Lundy,’ he said quietly, ‘help the lass quench her thirst. Cal and Dair, assist Father Tremayne.’

‘Aye,’ his clansmen responded softly. The group made their way to the burn and took turns to drink.

Lachlan remained standing beside his mount, one hand resting lightly on the bay-brown neck, while he surveyed the surroundings. A puff of frosty air slipped from behind a shadowed tree on the far bank and floated into the moon’s light. The skin between Lachlan’s shoulder blades tightened a moment before a tremor rippled along De Brus’s neck.

‘Duff,’ Lachlan called softly. With his attention fixed on the darkened trunk, he waited for his clansman to reach his side.

‘Aye, laird.’

‘We have company.’ Lachlan searched the shape of every tree on the opposite bank to discover where the enemy was hiding and how many there were. Instinct, and the fact that they were not being attacked, told him their numbers were few. ‘Not many.’ His attention returned to the ghost-like tree where he knew someone lurked. ‘Perhaps only the one,’ he said quietly. ‘Mount up and head downstream. Tell Lundy, Cal and Dair to continue home with our guests, while you double back and close in from the south. I’ll wait and cut them off from here.’

‘Aye,’ Duff whispered and left to inform the others.

Holding still and motionless, eyes fixed on the tree trunk, Lachlan listened as his companions remounted and rode away.

Pressing his hand firmly against his mount’s nose, giving De Brus the sign to stay, Lachlan crept to where the stream flowed. With the sound of gurgling water covering his footfalls, he leaped onto one large rock and then another, before his feet found purchase on the opposite bank. Crouching low, he studied the nearby row of trees for any additional intruders. Nothing. Every muscle in his body coiled and tightened in readiness.

The moon’s glow failed to reach his opponent’s hiding place, but he’d have to be blind to not see the faint puffs of human breath floating on the freezing air like small clouds of steam. His hand dropped to the hilt of his dagger.

Duff’s shout rent the air, heralding he was in position. A gasp rang out, bouncing off the still quietness like a scream.

Legs braced wide, Lachlan waited as hurried footsteps headed his way. Knees bent, arms tense, his fingers clawed like a mighty eagle’s talons, Lachlan stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight.

A small figure ran toward him, too busy looking behind to see him standing in their path.

His stitches tingled. Impossible. It can’t be.

Her pretty head jerked around. Shock painted his little thief’s face and widened her eyes. Her steps faltered. She slid to a stop an arms-length from where he stood. Lachlan glared at her in disbelief. Silvery lips, tinged blue, shivered open, but no sound slipped out of her mouth.

Hands shaking, he jammed his dagger safely into the waistband at his back. He fought to steady his fury by inhaling a deep, full breath, but it failed to quell the rage burning inside. His marriage could have been over before it began. He could have killed his future wife.

He took a step toward her, his anger breaking free. ‘What in Christ’s name are you doing here, Kenzie?’

***

‘I …’ Kenzie had no ready response to Lachlan Elliot’s roared question. None that he’d like anyway. What in Mother Mary’s name was
he
doing on Irvine land? Her arms stiffened by her sides. He wasn’t supposed to be here. She stared into his face. While his features were familiar, the expression of fury he wore was not. His ever-present smile was missing. And he didn’t yet know what she’d done to escape.

Grasping her skirts and cloak, she stumbled back two steps and ran into the darkness to her right. An ungodly oath erupted from behind her, moments before a firm, unseen weight settled on her shoulder.

She dipped and twisted, trying to shake free of his hold. An arm circled her waist and her back collided with a wall of muscle.

‘Let me go,’ she yelled, pushing at his forearm with frozen fingers.

‘So you can run again and likely break your fool neck.’

His free arm wrapped around her middle, trapping her arms. Pinned against him, his heat seeped through her borrowed cloak and thin gown to warm her chilled flesh and shivering bones. She fought the urge to press more firmly against him and soak in his warmth.

‘Curse you,’ she said, loathing her body’s weakness.

‘I’m thinking I’m already cursed.’

‘You’re supposed to be in Dumfries.’

‘And you should be tucked in your bed.’ His quiet words rumbled through her. His warm breath tickled her ear, her cheek and the fine skin of her neck. She shivered and closed her eyes.

‘We’ll talk about why you’re out here later, Kenzie. Right now it’s time to go home.’

Home? The single word rang with promise, but the meaning escaped her. Despite weariness dragging at her lashes, she forced her eyes open. She needed to stay alert for any opportunity to escape his hold. His heat.

Her captor straightened and turned them around. A shrill whistle echoed into the night. The clicking of hooves on ice sounded before the call had faded to silence. The warmth about her withdrew, his hold shifting a moment before he lifted her and set her atop his horse with surprising gentleness. He mounted behind her and drew her back against him. She stiffened and leaned forward.

‘Anything I can do, laird?’

Kenzie searched for the voice in the dark and found a lone rider waiting in a strip of moonlight.

‘Nae, Duff. Ride ahead, we’ll not be far behind you.’

Her lashes fluttered, threatening to close. She blinked, trying to stay alert, but the rocking motion caused by the horse’s slow, even gait played havoc with her efforts. Lachlan Elliot’s warmth lured her like a drunkard to his brew but she refused to relax back against him.

‘How did you escape?’ The quietly spoken question banished her weariness like a plunge in an icy loch. She stiffened, leaning further away from his cradling warmth. ‘What have you done?’

‘I did what I needed to do.’ Guilt tripped her heart. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d
had
to. She shuddered at the thought of anyone being hurt while fighting the fire she’d started.

‘What have you done?’ The quiet intensity of his repeated question tore shreds from her soul. A large hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her back against him. Concern and dread flowed from his biting grip, more frightening, for she could feel his pain, shared his fear. Her guilt doubled. Her stomach churned.

‘‘Tis all your fault.’ She wriggled and tried to break his hold. She couldn’t bear his suffering when her own shame at the hurt and damage she might have caused made her ill.

‘Aye. I forced you to steal my horse. Christ, keep still.’

‘You forced me to escape.’

‘Forced you? You agreed to marry—’

‘Marry you or hang. Nae choice at all. Both spell death, though hanging would be quicker and kinder.’

Her final word floated in the frosty air for a whisper of time. Drawing a deep breath, she fought to slow her racing heart. She longed to hear him speak, break the brittle silence swarming around them. An angry word. Something.

Anything.

He said nothing. Left her to wallow in strangling silence, left her to her guilty thoughts.

The rigid thighs and arms locked about her body were the only sign he was still there. She’d exchanged a prison of stone for a prison of flesh. Stronger, more lethal. Would he punish her for escaping? Perhaps he’d now change his mind about marrying her. Faint hope fluttered in her chest.

She inhaled and with it, tasted the faint smell of smoke. The memory of charred fingers flashed in her mind. The vision of her own hand lowering the flaming kindling to her bedding swiftly followed. She peered down at her hands.

‘Fire?’ her captor questioned softly.

A wave of chilling uncertainty rushed through her. She had no clue what had happened once she’d fled. Her hand fisted. ‘I did what I had to,’ she whispered.

The body behind her stiffened, the arms about her tightened, locked. ‘Precisely
what
did you do?’ His quiet tone rang with menace.

She bit her lower lip. She’d meant no harm. If anyone had been wounded or—bile rose in her throat.

At that moment their mount topped a rise. Through watery eyes, Kenzie stared in horror at the blur that lit the bleak, dark landscape below.

‘Dear God, forgive me.’

Chapter 6

Never had Lachlan witnessed the pale stone walls of Castle Redheugh brushed red-gold by so many flaming torches. The cavernous night hunched about the blazing splendour, its blanketing darkness the perfect backdrop to highlight the glowing beauty of his ancestral home. But his appreciation soon gave way to anger.

He tallied how many torches were burning, their lengths squandered. Time spent binding strips of greenwood and soaking the moss-filled end in animal fat so it would catch alight and burn also wasted. Wasted, looking for the woman before him.

He dragged his awareness from the costly scene and stared at the back of his future wife’s bowed head. His father had impressed upon him the need for restraint to ensure his people survived, to always consider his people’s needs compared to unnecessary wants. He’d been taught to loathe waste. Hadn’t she? With Lennox as her father, likely not.

But she needed to learn. Once they were wed, Lachlan would teach her. This, among other things.

The woman managed to stir trouble wherever she went, had run free and wild too long. She needed someone to take her in hand. He would be that someone. He’d bind her to him through marriage the moment he had her safely within his stronghold. He’d not risk her fleeing again. With his mind made up, Lachlan allowed the muscles bunching across his shoulders to relax, knowing once he was wed, all would be as it should be.

De Brus carried them down the final tree-lined slope where Lachlan’s cattle were held before being moved closer to the keep for winter. Lachlan’s eyes briefly lifted to the swollen moon and then dropped to where Duff rode a short distance ahead. The men guarding the herd would soon be replaced by the night watchmen. Lundy, Dair, Cal, Father Tremayne and Ailsa would already be safely within Castle Redheugh walls. His bride-to-be-