Winning the Highlander's Heart (34 page)

Stopping in the stand of pines, Anice’s delight was overshadowed by the overwhelming panic skittering across her bones.  No one from the village nearby fished in the river feeding the loch, nor was anyone gathering timber for their dwellings. 

Malcolm rested his hand on her shoulder.  “Anice, what think you?”

Dougald and Angus watched her with guarded expectancy.  Kemp crouched at the base of a tree, examining creeping ladies tresses among the mosses, pine needles, and heather—the small row of orchids resembling ladies’ neatly braided hair.

The earth smelled sweet and damp after a summer’s rain, while the pine fragrance and the smell of peat burning in a dwelling some distance away scented the air.

She wished she could assure Malcolm naught was wrong.  But it would have been a lie.  Knowing only that she had to enter the castle and face whatever danger lay within, she ran her hands over Malcolm’s bearded cheeks and said, “’Tis danger, but I know not from what.”

“But we survive,” Malcolm whispered, the warmth of his breath tickling her cheek, “because Henry will come seeking my head.  Unless, ‘tis him in yonder castle already.”

She shifted her gaze from his brown eyes full of love and life and looked again at her castle, ignoring his attempt at humor to cheer her, unable to shake the cold in her bones.  “’Tis time I return without further delay.”

Malcolm helped Anice into her saddle.  Kemp handed her a bunch of creeping ladies tresses; the creamy white flowers looked ice white against his muddy fingers.

She smiled.  “Thanks be to thee, Kemp.”  Lifting the flowers to her nose, she smelled the sweet scent.  She was home.

Pulling the monk’s hood over her head to disguise that she was Lady Anice in the event her concern that trouble lay ahead was warranted, the five travelers rode for Brecken’s main entrance.  They spied several men atop the wall walk watching their arrival, but she could not make out whether they were her men or someone else’s.  The metal portcullis was up and a gate guard, wearing brown wool trewes and a jacket, his brown hair cut short,
hurried out to speak to them.  “Who are ye, brothers, and what are you doing here?”

Malcolm looked at Anice, but she shook her head, hoping he realized she didn’t know who the man was and feared foul play.

Malcolm drew taller in his saddle.  “We are  Lady Anice’s staff.”

“Monks?  She’s not here,” the man said tartly.  “You will have to come back once she has returned.”

“You do not work for the lady,” Anice said in her deepest, most threatening voice, trying to rein in her rage that she was not even welcome in her own castle, and that the men escorting her, given orders by the king to be her staff, would be turned away.  “Who are you to give orders when she is not here?”

The gate guard stared curiously at her.  Had her voice given away that she was a woman?  Angus and Dougald exchanged glances.

A man dressed in chain mail standing nearby hurried for the keep, while another came down off the wall walk and planted himself behind the gate guard.  None of the men had been part of her staff.

“Lord Rousseau, the new steward, gives the orders,” the gate guard replied brusquely.

“By whose authority?” Malcolm quickly asked before Anice exploded.

She clenched her teeth as her body heated.  Malcolm’s handling the man’s arrogance at the moment was best for all concerned, unless she revealed she was Lady Anice.  Certainly, as Malcolm’s wife, and just a lady-in-waiting to Anice, she had no authority to tell this man where he could go...like she truly wished to.

“Baron Harold de Fontenot gave the order.  He is taking Lady Anice to wive as soon as he returns here.”

If he can find the lady
.  Anice gave a smug smile.

Malcolm yanked off his monk’s robe.  “I am Earl of Pembrinton, and by the power vested in me by Henry, King of England, I am Lady Anice’s new steward.  My brothers are the new chamberlain and treasurer.”

“And I am her new groom,” Kemp proudly piped in.

“I take orders only from the baron and his steward.  So you will have to take this up with him when he returns.”

Dougald and Angus both pulled off their robes, making it easier to get to their weapons.

A tall grim, black bearded man with a scar cutting across his brow, giving him a perpetual scowl, stalked toward them with the knight from the wall walk at his side.  “I am Lord Rousseau.  What is the trouble here?”  With a dark look, the baron’s appointed steward regarded the MacNeill brothers’ show of force with disdain, then turned to Anice.

She pulled the brown woolen hood back and motioned to Malcolm.  “Lady Anice’s new steward, Earl of Pembrinton.”  She quickly added for the benefit of a man who’d just joined the group who
was
on her own staff, “And I am Countess Pembrinton and lady-in-waiting to Lady Anice.”

The knight’s eyes widened, though he spoke not a word.  Thomas, only five years her senior was one of her uncle’s most faithful staff.  “I ken, Thomas, the marriage is a surprise.  Do tell everyone, will ye?”

“Aye, milady,” he said quickly, his eyes shifting from her to Malcolm, then made an expeditious bow and stormed up the stone stairs to the wall walk.

“Milaird,” Anice said facing Malcolm, “mayhap you can handle this matter with the baron’s laird.  I wish to wash some of this dust off before Lady Anice arrives.”  In truth she wished to make it known at once that her people were not to reveal her identity at all costs.

Malcolm turned to Dougald.  “You and Angus speak with Lord Rousseau and spread the word concerning our appointments.  I will meet you in the hall shortly.”

“Aye,” they both said.

“Can I go with ye, milady?” Kemp asked, sliding from Angus’s horse and hitting the ground in his tattered leather shoes with a small thump.

“You are my groom, so of course, Kemp.  I have many things for you to do.  I wish you to take special care of my horse, Mystic.  But also, I must have a new set of clothes made for ye.”

The captain of her guard approached, his dark hair hanging loosely at his shoulders, his icy blue eyes ominous, but otherwise his emotions were tightly guarded.  “Milady--”

“Aye, MacTavish.  So good to see ye again.  Spread the word to any that work here Laird MacNeill and his brothers serve Lady Anice, so they should be granted access to come and go as they please.  They are investigating the death of Laird Thompson and the disappearance of our other staff.”  She cleared her throat, knowing the captain of her guard would be shocked to hear the next news from her lips.  “I have married Laird MacNeill.”

MacTavish stared at Malcolm.

Smiling, she said, “Aye, ‘tis true.  I am wed.  Ye thought it would never come about?”

MacTavish didn’t say a word, but she could imagine him wondering what would happen now that they had a new laird to govern the place, when her poor people must have believed the baron was taking over.

“It would seem, Lord MacNeill, your lady thinks she runs the place,” Rousseau sarcastically said, his scarred brow raised.

“The lady has lived here all her life.  She knows these people better than any of us.”  Malcolm smiled at Anice, then gave the guard a stern look.  “Lady Anice’s men will be manning the guard post from now on.  You are relieved of your duty at once.”  To MacTavish he said, “See to it that my orders are carried out.”

“Aye, milaird,” MacTavish said with a curt bow, then took command of the situation.

Malcolm faced Anice.  “Are you ready for your bath, milady?”

“Aye, before the evening meal.”

They rode toward the stables where the marshal hurried to greet them.  “Milady,” Heath said, running his hand over her horse’s muzzle.  His dark green eyes were troubled.  “We worried something terrible had happened to ye.  The baron’s men said Fontenot was searching for ye, but that ye and your escort had vanished without a trace.”

She explained as much as she could to the laird in charge of the stables and told him to pass the information to all he could.

“’Tis a dangerous game you play, milady.”

“I am sure the baron had my uncle killed, Heath.  I will no’ marry a man who is a murderer.”

“Aye, milady.  We will do the best we can.”

“Do ye ken how many of the baron’s men have settled inside the castle and grounds?” Malcolm asked.

Heath shook his head, his windswept blond hair sweeping his shoulders.  “Nay, milaird.  They come and go at will.  Though had we known the circumstances, we would have fought to keep them out.”

“Tell the others there will be trouble,” Malcolm warned.

Then she, Malcolm, and Kemp walked into the keep where five of the baron’s men were speaking with ten of her men.  Spreading the word to her people wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped.

Her men’s expressions turned from surprise to bridled relief to see her.  Before they could greet her, she said, “I have returned ahead of the Lady Anice.  As her lady-in-waiting, I wished to ready her chambers.  But I am no longer Lady Agnes.  I have married Laird MacNeill, Earl of Pembrinton, our new steward, by order of His Grace, Henry, King of England.  I am now Lady MacNeill.  Laird MacNeill’s brothers, Dougald and Angus are our treasurer and chamberlain.”

Several of the men exchanged looks and she knew they were not happy the baron had first sent his men to take over her castle, and now King Henry sent others to do the same.

“They are investigating the death of Laird Thompson and the disappearances of our other men.  So I…”  She paused, cleared her throat, and started again.  “Lady Anice has ordered that all cooperate with these men.”

“Aye, Lady MacNeill,” Ewen said.  The others bowed.

One of her ladies-in-waiting hurried to speak with her, but Anice spoke first, “I wish a bath at once, Nola, before Lady Anice returns.”

Nola flipped her red braid over her shoulder and glanced behind her.  Her green eyes widened to see the Highlander stranger.  She whispered to Anice, “I overheard what was said, milady.  Some of the other ladies are spreading the word.  But where is Mai?”

“We ran into trouble and had to leave her behind.  I’ll send a party to get her at as soon as we’ve ensured the castle is free of vermin.”  Anice tousled Kemp’s dusty brown hair.  “This is my new groom, Kemp.  I want him cleaned up and a new set of clothes made for him.  Then he’ll work for Heath.”

Another of her ladies came forward and quickly curtsied to her.  “I will see to the young man.”

“Aye, Mary, and make sure he has a good scrubbing.”

“Nay,” Kemp quickly objected.

“If ye wish to work for me, you will have to bathe from time to time.”

Mary tenderly wrapped her arm around Kemp.  The poor lady had lost her husband and son to a fever earlier in the year, and she seemed at once to take a liking to the lad.

Anice headed for the wide stairs leading to the second floor and her chamber.

“Are you truly wed to Laird MacNeill?” Nola asked, her red brow wrinkled, her green eyes narrowed.

“Aye, that she is,” Malcolm said, speaking from below them on the stairs.  Anice looked behind her, surprised Malcolm followed them.  He winked and added, “I stay with ye, or one of my brothers does at all times, remember?”

She gave him a barbed look.  “I am taking my
bath
.”

“Aye, and until this deadly business is uncovered, you will always be accompanied.”

Trying to conceal her embarrassment in front of her ladies, she pursed her lips.  “Verra well, you can stand outside my chambers while I bathe.”