Blair’s nails dug into Hardi’s hand, but she remained silent. Hardi stared at Alan, unsure of what to say now that he could question him. He opted for directness. “Were ye picking up or dropping off a missive?”
“Picking up,” Alan answered as he ran his hand through his damp hair.
“I hope the rain didna ruin the missive if it was in the wall for too long.” Hardi’s tone sounded nonchalant, but he felt anything but.
“It was there before the rain. I was supposed to go this morn, but ma wife and ma lass are poorly,” Alan explained.
“Is there aught yer family needs?” Blair asked. “I’m certain Laird Cameron can deliver the missive, so ye can go home to yer kin.” Blair’s concern was genuine, but she also wished to take advantage of the situation. When Alan shifted nervously, Blair wondered what he was hiding.
“Lady Cameron is right. I can take the missive, so ye can check on yer wife and wean. It’s nay trouble,” Hardi offered.
“I dinna ken who it’s for,” Alan confessed. “Every eve, I check to see if someone left aught. If there is, then I ride out the next morn. If there isnae, then I dinna go.”
“If ye dinna ken who the missives are for, or who they’re from, how did ye end up as the messenger?” Hardi pressed.
Alan glanced around the bailey, discomfort and dread written across his face. Blair followed his gaze as it hopped from one to another, before settling on Hardi. “Laird Cameron, ye ken I’ve been a messenger for years,” Alan evaded.
“Then how did ye ken there’s a hiding spot? And where is this spot?” Hardi persisted. Alan appeared to consider the questions, but Hardi knew he wanted to avoid answering questions. He’d behaved the same way since they were children. “Alan, ye canna keep shuffling yer feet to move backwards until ye have room to make an excuse and turn around. I was faster than ye when we were weans, and I’m faster than ye now. I will catch ye.”
“Can we speak elsewhere?” Alan continued to glance around, as though he feared being watched.
“We can go to ma solar,” Hardi suggested.
“Nay. Somewhere away from the keep. And nae in the bailey, either. Can we speak outside the wall?”
“Ye ken that means guards accompany us,” Hardi reminded.
Alan sighed. He pulled the missive from his sporran and handed it to Hardi. “I dinna want anyone to overhear this. The hiding spot is between two books in yer solar, ma laird. Laird Farlane thought of several spots and instructed me years ago to check them daily. Depending on where I find the missive, I ken whether it is to go to Inverlochy, the Donalds, the MacMillans, or the king.”
“Ye’ve been entering ma solar every evening and didna think I should ken,” Hardi’s voice was like a shard of ice. “Do I sneak into yer home every evening and go through yer belongings? What the bluidy hell, Alan? Who else kens Uncle Farlane’s system? Obviously, someone does since the missives continue, and he’s dead.”
“Truthfully, Laird, until just now, I never considered whether ye kenned aboot it. Every council member kens, so I assumed someone told ye.”
“If it’s nay secret, then why are ye so shifty?” Blair asked.
“Because the missives to Inverlochy are never addressed to anyone, and I dinna ken who they’re from. That tells me whoever it is doesnae want me to. If they dinna want me to ken, then they willna want me discussing it. Whoever that missive is for is expecting it. If they see I’ve just arrived and I’m talking to ye both, even gave ye the missive, they might be suspicious. I have a family to think aboot.”
“If ye think whatever ye’re doing involves someone nefarious enough to harm yer family, then why are ye still a messenger?” Blair wondered.
“Because ma father, uncle, and grandfather are on the council. I’ve been a messenger for years. It would seem odd if I just stopped,” Alan explained.
“If ye have family on the council, dinna ye think that protects ye?” Blair persisted.
“I dinna care to find out, ma lady.”
“Who are yer father, uncle, and grandfather? I dinna ken yet.”
“Niall is ma grandfather, Mungan is ma uncle, and Malcolm is ma father,” Alan explained.
Blair nodded. She would wait to ask Hardi who else was directly related on the council. She would recommend Hardi makes more changes to the council membership and not have so many family connections. It was too easy for factions to start. Faolán and Drostan were examples of that.
“If whoever is expecting the missive doesnae get it, they will look for me,” Alan worried.
“Where is the spot for Inverlochy missives?” Blair interjected. Once Alan explained where to look, Hardi dismissed him, then the couple went to their solar. Blair scanned the shelves until she found the place Alan described. Hardi stood beside a candle on the desk and heated the wax enough to peal open the seal. He steeled himself for whatever Blair read.
All is progressing on my end. The bows and arrows have been delivered, and I have stored the payment where no one knows to look. No one seems any the wiser about the unusual orders or where the weapons have gone. We will come out of this richer than when we began.
I welcomed your news that the tunnel is ahead of schedule. I worried a moon would be an interminable wait, but I can manage another sennight. I wish to see the tunnel’s progress for myself. I confess curiosity is getting the better of me. I will be glad when we no longer must rely on inept messengers and secret missives. One missing correspondence was one too many. Make sure your man understands he’s your clan’s only messenger. I don’t want more bodies to dispose of.
Keep me abreast of any changes or updates. If I hear naught within the week, I will assume it’s time to summon our friends and make our move. What a gathering that will be.
Blair’s ears rang as she finished reading. She looked up at Hardi, shocked by the entire missive, but one line stood out. “They killed Bran. That’s why he hasnae returned.”
Hardi pulled Blair into his embrace and buried his face in her hair as she gripped the back of his leine. Blair forced herself not to cry, remaining stoic as she felt Hardi’s labored breathing. She understood the two men had been friends for years, and it was likely the first time Hardi sent a man on a mission only to learn of his death. She leaned back, her cool fingers resting like feathers against his cheek. “Dinna take on guilt isnae yers to bear. Every mon who rides out on behalf of his laird kens the risks. Ye didna do this. Ye didna cause his death, Hardi.”
“I ken, but it doesnae feel that way.” As Blair looked at her husband, his gaze appeared distant, as though he was somewhere far away or long ago. She didn’t know how Hardi grieved, and she was unsure of whether she should give him space. She had her answer when she took a step away from him. Hardi’s arm clamped around her waist as he pulled her back against his chest.
“Dinna go,” Hardi whispered.
“I wouldnae dream of it,” Blair whispered. She embraced Hardi as he held her, his cheek resting on the crown of her head. After several minutes passed, Blair asked, “Do ye wish to sit together? Or would ye prefer I remain here but give ye space?”
“Sit together.” They made their way to the chairs by the fireplace. “I need to retrieve his body. Or at least try to.”
Blair was already thinking the same thing. “I think ye should send one of ma guards with whoever rides out. We dinna ken where he might be, and we dinna ken if there are others lying in wait for messengers headed to Dunrobin. A Sutherland might deter an ambush.”
“We have a week rather than a moon to prepare for an attack we dinna ken who it involves. There is someone within these bailey walls who seeks to sabotage us. It could be anyone at this point. We still dinna ken who can read and write besides ye.”
“Who could have had the opportunity over the years?” Blair wondered.
“Uncle Farlane, ma father, Faolán and Drostan were all taught at the same time. Ma father was second to inherit before ma cousins were born. As the laird’s son, they taught him alongside Uncl
e Farlane. They gave Faolán and Drostan the opportunity because the four of them were vera close as lads. Much like I was with Dougal and ma cousins. Until Angus was born, the line of succession was Uncle Farlane, ma father, Timothy—Faolán and Drostan’s father—then the two of them. Ma father didna see any reason for me or Dougal to learn because Uncle Farlane had four sons before we went to foster. Ma father never imagined Dougal or I would ever become laird. He said there was nay point in filling out heads with useless information when we should fill it with battle skills.”
“But we ken all five men are dead along with other members of yer family. Who might have learned alongside of them?”
“Nay one, unless Faolán and Drostan were part of the secret, and they taught someone.”
“True,” Blair agreed. “I didna get the impression from Alan that he thinks any of his family are involved.”
“I agree. He canna read nor write either. Since he canna understand the contents of the missives, he doesnae ken they contain secrets. He’s been the clan’s messenger for so long, nay one expects otherwise.”
“If we take away, Niall, Malcolm, and Mungan, that leaves Paul and Osgar,” Blair deduced. “Could anyone have taught either of them, even after their childhood?”
“I dinna think so. But I just dinna ken. Someone taught another someone something at some time. Bluidy frustrating.” Hardi left his chair and went to the sideboard, poured himself a dram of whisky, and drank. When he turned back toward Blair, she was scowling playfully.
“Dinna be rude!” Blair laughed. Hardi refilled his mug and poured a dram for Blair. He chuckled when she downed it in one gulp. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t choke.
“We have a sennight to find Bran’s body, discover who’s plotting against me, and determine who’s aboot to attack,” Hardi surmised.
“We assume it’s the entire Clan Chattan Confederation, which means the Macphersons, Mackintoshes, and Davidsons are on their way. We prepare for a siege. Send out yer best hunters to bring back everything they can: deer, rabbit, squirrel, boar. Bring to the keep any outlying villages ye imagine the enemy might attack. Tell the men to bring their pitchforks, shovels, aught that can be a weapon.” Blair’s mind scrambled for everything she’d learned from her parents. Few people dared attack the Sutherlands, but her parents taught all three siblings what to do in the eventuality they had to lead a clan through one. “We send a Cameron and a Sutherland out first thing in the morn. We place this missive where its recipient expects it, and then we wait to see who comes for it. Ma guess is they’ll slip in here during the evening meal. It’ll be too obvious if either of us is missing from the Great Hall. Mordag canna do it because she’s needed to oversee the meal. I dinna ken who among yer men ye can trust, but I ken both of ma guards can be. Have them wait in the passageway in the shadows, and they can report aught they see.”
Hardi walked to two bookshelves and ran his hand over the wood paneling that separated them. Blair heard a latch click, and a Murphy door sprang open. She cautiously moved to stand beside Hardi. It was a hidey-hole large enough for two adults and a child or two. Hardi told Blair to wait, and he stepped into the space. He felt around in the dark until he felt a bump in the wooden door. He slid open a tiny hatch and looked out. His height allowed him to see between the tops of the books and the shelf above. He knew Blair would need to move books apart to have an unobstructed view. He called out to Blair and asked her if she could tell where he was hiding. When she couldn’t find him even though she knew behind which bookshelf he hid, Hardi wiggled his fingers through the open portal before depressing the interior latch and opening the Murphy door. They agreed they would follow their normal routine, and if they heard nothing from their guards, they would take up watch from within the hidey-hole.
Forty-Three
Blair and Hardi were at another dead end. Donald and Tomas reported a young boy of seven or eight summers slipped into the solar and was back out only a matter of moments later. The lad carried the missive in his hand, but neither of Blair’s guards knew the clan’s youngest members, so they didn’t recognize him. In the dim light of the passageway, they couldn’t make out any distinguishing features. The Cameron guard and Tomas set off before sunrise to search for Bran’s remains. Blair and Hardi knew the men might have to travel as far as Dunrobin, which meant they would be away during whatever ominous event approached.
Hardi refused to allow Blair to join him when he explored the dungeons. He searched for any sign that it led to a tunnel. He found nothing that hinted that a secret underground passageway existed. Unable to search the dungeon, Blair searched the floors in storage buildings in the bailey along with storerooms in the kitchens and along other passageways. Blair feared her heart would stop when she entered an unused storeroom within a passageway seldom frequented. It led to a part of the keep that once stood as a section of the original construction. Someone had walled off the end of the passageway, so it was impossible to enter the ancient portion of the castle. She slithered along the wall as she moved closer to the open hole in the floor. The unintelligible sound of men’s voices floated toward her, and she noticed the dim yellow glow from candles. She didn’t wait to learn how close the men were. She hurried away from the storage room and ran to the door leading to the dungeon. Blair collided with Hardi as she took her first step through the portal.
Blair explained what she discovered and expected Hardi to be relieved that they were making progress. He looked down at Blair with an expression she didn’t recognize. His eyes were cold and hard, and Hardi looked at her as though she disgusted him. He said nothing and stepped around her. She trailed after him, repeating his name until they arrived at their solar. Hardi slammed the door shut and turned the key in the lock once Blair passed through. He grasped her arm and pushed her roughly against the door. His kiss was punishing and brutal, but Blair gave no quarter with her response.
Hardi ripped the ribbons from the back of Blair’s gown and yanked it off her as she slipped her hands beneath his plaid. He gathered the front of his plaid and tucked it into his belt before pulling Blair’s hands free. He pinned her hands together in one of his as he wrapped his other arm beneath her backside and lifted high enough for her to wrap her legs around his waist. He held her arms above her head as he thrust into her with a wildness neither recognized. He surged into Blair over and over as he devoured her mouth.
He walked them to the table and withdrew from Blair as she whimpered and reached out. He turned her and bent her forward over the table. He plowed into her over and over; the table creaked and shifted with each surge of his sword into her sheath. He once again captured her wrists in one of his hands, pinning them against her lower back while his other hand gathered her hair. He pushed it to the side, so nothing lay between his lips and her ear. He lifted one of her legs onto the table, and it forced her to go up on her toes, but the change in angle allowed him better access. Blair moaned with the intensity of their coupling.
“Dinna ye dare climax, Blair,” Hardi growled. “I amnae anywhere near done with ye, wife. I have stood behind ye every time ye have gone head-to-head with men who would have run ye through if ye werenae a lady. I never tell ye nay. Never. The one time I do, ye had to have yer way. I didna refuse to take ye to the dungeon just so ye could go creeping around on yer own. Bluidy hell, Blair. I’m nae burying another fucking member of ma family.”
Hardi choked out the last words as his body pressed Blair’s against the table. He reached around her and rubbed her pearl as he continued to piston his hips. He released her wrists and wrapped his arms around her tightly, making it impossible to go anywhere if she had wanted to. He continued to pump his cock into her, tormenting her nub. He felt her core tightening around him, and she shifted with frustration. When he was certain she was on the edge of release, he pulled out and stepped back. Blair cried out as she looked back over her shoulder at Hardi, who stood panting, his cock glistening with her dew. She whimpered at the loss of Hardi’s body against hers
and the regret she felt as she understood his fear. She rolled over and scooted onto the table. She brought her hands and feet to the edge as she let her knees drop wide.
Hardi stroked himself as he watched Blair, his bollocks demanding he return to her and relieve their ache. Once she laid on the table, Hardi was between her thighs in one stride. He slammed into her as she squeezed her eyes closed. Her hands clenched the edge of the table to keep from being pushed across it.
“I willna climax until ye tell me to,” Blair moaned. She wanted him to know she understood. He’d never told her not to do something before, and the one time he did, she ignored his request. She wouldn’t do it a second time.
“God, nay. Fuck. Damn it, Blair. I shouldnae have said that. I’m nay holding yer pleasure hostage, and I’m nae going to control ye. What the hell am I doing?”
“Hardi, I want to wait until ye give me permission,” Blair insisted as she gripped his forearms. “Just dinna make me wait too long. I—oh God, Hardi. I’m so close. I—” Blair squeezed her eyes closed as she concentrated on trying not to climax. Hardi pulled her from the table and sank into the chair next to him.
“Ye’re going to ride ma cock, and I’m going to watch every moment of ye shattering from ma shaft filling yer cunny.” Hardi’s fingers bit into Blair’s bottom as he guided her hips up and down while her hands gripped the back of the chair above Hardi’s shoulders.
“Tell me I can, Hardi,” Blair begged. “Hardi? Hardi?” She could feel her core tightening, and she was losing her battle. “Hardwin!”
“Aye, mo ghaol, ye will spend for me right now, and I will follow ye.”
Blair leaned forward, unable to support the weight of her torso. Hardi grasped her breast and suckled before biting her nipple. Blair succumbed to the waves of pleasure that burst through her, and she felt Hardi’s cock pulse within her. She draped her weary body over Hardi as he kissed her cheek and neck, cooing to her as his hand stroked her back and bottom. When she could speak again, she cupped his face and pressed gentle kisses against his mouth.
A Saint at the Highland Court: A Friends to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 6) Page 28
