“I’m working for the laird,” he admitted.
“Blaine?”
“Aye. It’s a delicate matter, and I cannae say more than that. At least no' without his consent. Suffice to say, we’re trying to do a good thing.”
“Ye ask me to take ye at yer word?”
“And yer own eyes. Do ye think Blaine came here last week for a social visit? Ye're welcome to go up to the castle and ask Fergus or Blaine yerself.”
Rabby nodded slowly. “So the mythical MacBrennan hasnae returned to terrorise the town?”
“Nay, Rabby, he hasnae. I meant what I said; I’ve changed, and that man is gone. I’m just borrowing his disguise for a day.” Mathe stepped forward and placed his hand on the innkeepers shoulder. “I meant what I said, though; please keep this to yerself. I cannae risk Lilidh finding out about it. She would misunderstand my intentions, and it would tear her apart.”
Rabby looked down, eyes closing, his face turning into a mask of sorrow. Mathe saw it and the pain returned. Tighter this time, and sharper; a sliver of steel that pierced his heart.
“Rabby, what is it?” he asked, and heard the shaking in his voice.
“She knows, Mathe,” Rabby answered softly. “It was Lilidh who told me that MacBrennan had returned.”
Mathe’s hand tightened on the man’s shoulder involuntarily, as he felt his knees buckle underneath him. “When?” he demanded.
“No' more than an hour ago. She stumbled past, didnae even see me. I asked if she was alright and she told me that MacBrennan was back.”
“Where did she go?” he asked urgently.
“Towards her house.”
Mathe turned without answering and wrenched open the stable door, fighting the surging panic that threatened to overwhelm him, and took off at a sprint. The sword bounced hard against his leg as he ran, but he paid it no heed, willing himself onwards, ever faster, while thoughts hammered into him from every direction.
What had he done?
He leapt off the cobblestones and onto the wooden planks without slowing down, feeling them warp underneath his boot, and then he was on the porch. He knocked quickly on the door.
“Lilidh?” he called. “Are ye there? Fynn?”
No answer. The door was closed and he tested the handle, expecting it to be locked, but it twisted and the door swung slowly inwards. Suddenly hesitant, Mathe slowly pushed it all the way open and stepped inside.
They were gone.
It was obvious from the moment his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he looked around searchingly. Their clothing, sheets, and small possessions were all gone, leaving only the furniture and a few larger pots and pans. Mathe opened the drawers and cupboards and saw that they were also empty. He checked every corner, every nook and cranny, then walked back outside. The old man next door was in his chair, as always, staring into nothing. He sat so still Mathe almost didn’t see him against the front of the old wooden house.
“Have ye seen Lilidh MacBrennan?” Mathe asked him.
The old man slowly turned his face. “Gone,” he said.
“Ye saw her?”
“Aye. Left with the lad. In a hurry, they were.”
Mathe nodded. No doubt they were. He went back inside and collapsed onto the floor in the centre of the room, feeling a strange burning behind his eyes. Behind him, Rabby pushed the door open slowly and walked in.
“They’re gone,” Mathe mumbled. All at once he found the very bedrock of his life had been ripped from him, and he knew just how much he’d needed his wife. Throughout the long years in the darkness of prison, she’d inspired him to wake up every morning. Even when he returned, and she told him to leave, he had somehow known that he could make things right.
But now? It was with a terrible certainty that Mathe knew Lilidh would never forgive him.
“Any idea where she would go?” the innkeeper asked.
Mathe nodded. “Aye. Up to the castle, most likely.”
“So, get up there and explain.”
“I… needed to do something first.”
Rabby shook his head and swore. “Mathe, ye’re about to lose the only good thing ye have left. Tell me what could be more important than that?”
Mathe looked up at him. “Would ye consider Blaine’s life to be more important?”
The innkeeper sat down heavily. “What in God’s name are ye mixed up in, Mathe?”
He smiled without humour. “The plots of traitors, Rabby, that’s what.”
And then he told the innkeeper everything.
The tale started with the proposition from Blaine, and the revelation of people in the town working against him. Mathe told of his initial refusal, then the realisation that it might be the only way to get his wife and son out of their house and into something that they deserved. He spoke of his trips down to the Dog Ear; the frustration and the disgust. The victory of King James against the Douglases, the movement of MacDonald troops across the Highlands, and the increasing urgency to uncover the identities of those who would rise against the laird.
At the end, Rabby blew his breath out. “So ye thought to try one last time tonight, in full MacBrennan regalia.”
“Aye,” Mathe said. “It was my last card to play.”
The innkeeper shook his head. “Ye know, Mathe, I cannae help but wonder if ye’re thinking about this all wrong.”
“In what way?”
“Ye say ye’re doing all of this for yer wife. To get her a house and the things she wants and deserves.”
“Aye.”
“But to do that, ye’re lying, going behind her back, and deceiving her.”
Mathe frowned at the truth of his words. “Aye.”
Rabby sighed. “I’m sure if ye were open and honest with Lilidh from the start, she might have told ye that what she really wanted would be a husband who would never lie, go behind her back, or deceive her. For whatever reason. Ye could even say that this is what she deserved, after everything ye’ve put her through. That kind of trust is more valuable than any house.”
Once again, Mathe felt his eyes sting at the man’s words. “Aye,” he whispered, unable to say more.
“I need to get back to the inn. Good luck, Mathe MacBrennan.”
And with that, the innkeeper turned and left, leaving Mathe on his own on the floor in the centre of the room. Rabby’s words hung in the air, and Mathe saw the truth in them. He’d let his wife down. Again. The thought hurt worse than any pain he could remember. He came north with a promise, and it had only taken a few weeks to break it, and lose his wife besides.
Mathe pounded his fist down angrily. How could he have been so stupid? Why did he ever change his mind and return to the castle, when what Lilidh really needed was for him to stay true to his word? He lay back on the floor and battled with himself, and in time a decision slowly bubbled to the surface.
His love for Lilidh, and his need to repair the trust that had been broken, was the most important thing. Certainly it was more important than a house.
Mathe stood and unbuttoned his belt, lifting the sword up. The accursed sword that he’d brought back into the world. With sudden anger, Mathe threw it hard onto the ground. It clattered and skipped to one side of the room. He looked at it, gave a satisfied nod, and turned to leave.
He had a marriage to save.
But no sooner had he reached out to open the door than it exploded inwards violently, knocking him backwards. He landed hard on his back and gasped for air, the wind forced from him. Dark shapes streamed into the house and pulled him up into a standing position with hands under his armpits. Mathe tried to pull away, but they held firmly. He counted at least six men, all wearing masks.
The door opened wider and a seventh man entered slowly, regarding Mathe from behind the mask. Mathe stared back in defiance.
The man reached his hand back and struck Mathe across the face with a closed fist. Black spots erupted in his vision, and he felt a tooth wobble in his mouth. He dislodged it with his tongue and
spat it onto the ground along with a mouthful of blood. The sound of it hitting the ground was loud in the sudden stillness of the room.
“Take off yer mask,” Mathe rasped. “Show me yer face, coward.”
A chuckle came from the man before him, and he pulled the mask away. Behind, the face of Rodric Ross grinned cruelly at him. “It’s no' much of a secret,” Rodric admitted, “and soon ye willnae be telling anybody anything.”
Mathe’s mind reeled. Had he spent hours in the Dog Ear searching for those plotting against Blaine, and the answer had been in front of him the whole time? “Ye're dead, Ross,” he grated, knowing the threat was nothing but an empty promise.
“Am I?” the man asked, tilting his head curiously. “Because to me, it looks like one of us will be dead soon. Perhaps it will be the man who hasnae been taken prisoner.”
“I swear -”
Rodric hit him again, in the stomach this time. Mathe bent as far as he could with the men holding his arms, and once again felt himself wheezing desperately for breath.
“Enough,” Rodric said, turning to his men. “Let’s get him out of here before someone sees us. This is already enough of a risk.”
One of them produced a large burlap bag, big enough for a body, and Mathe thrashed at the thought of what would happen next. He writhed, trying to exert force over the men beside him, but they stood as if they were made from stone. He looked up in time to see Rodric produce a long wooden baton. It looked like those the prison guards carried back in the Fleet, and Mathe knew only too well what they could do to a man.
“G’night, MacBrennan,” Rodric said with a cheerful smile, then brought the baton down heavily.
Everything snapped into black.
22
Lilidh MacBrennan
Lilidh blinked as the room came into focus. The roof above her head was ornate, and she found herself in a sea of pillows. The bed was so soft she felt like she could sink into its depths and never climb back out. After countless years of sleeping on a mattress that was barely anything at all, the bed was as comfortable as it was strange.
She lifted her head weakly to see that she was in a private room. It seemed vast, stretching into the distance, and the far end was dark. A bank of windows lay on one side and the closest was thrown open. The air in the room was cold, but not uncomfortably so, wrapped as she was.
“Ye're awake,” a voice said, and Margaret’s face appeared above her.
“Aye,” Lilidh said slowly, and the events that brought her to the castle returned all at once. She tried to rise, and a wave of dizziness hit her.
“Slowly, now,” Margaret warned.
“Where’s Fynn?” Lilidh asked, looking around frantically. “Where’s my son?”
“Calm yerself, Lilidh,” the chamberlain said, laying a hand on her shoulder gently. “Fynn is perfectly fine. He’s with one of the girls, and likely exploring the castle, having the time of his life.”
Lilidh nodded and felt herself fall back onto the bed once more. “How long have I been asleep for?”
“No' long; half an hour at most. It was a panic attack. Ye were so upset when ye came in that ye werenae breathing properly; all worked up into a state.”
Lilidh wasn’t surprised at Margaret’s diagnosis of a panic attack; after all, she had plenty of reason to panic. “I need to speak to the laird,” she said. “Right away.”
Margaret nodded. “I dinnae doubt that. He’s already on his way; as soon as ye stirred, I called for him.”
Another wave of dizziness hit her, and Lilidh tried to calm her breathing. She would tell the laird, and everything would be alright. He’d fix things; protect her from MacBrennan, the man she thought she could trust once more. She’d done her part, and now she needed to throw herself on the man’s mercy. “Margaret,” she said, “I need to stay in the castle. Ye need to take me in.”
“Aye, but let’s wait until Blaine arrives, so ye dinnae need to repeat yerself.”
“Margaret, ye dinnae ken,” she said, her voice rising with urgency. “It’s no' safe in town anymore. He’s back.”
Margaret frowned, as if unable to stop herself. “Who’s back, Lilidh?”
The door swung open. “MacBrennan is back,” Laird Blaine McCaskill proclaimed, sweeping into the room. Behind him, the steward followed. She’d never spoken to the older man before, and in fact, there was something slightly eery about him. He was dressed in formal clothing, but it contrasted with the wild nature of the man, like he was one step away from ripping his clothing off and howling at the moon.
“Fergus,” he said by way of introduction.
Lilidh nodded, then turned to the laird. “How did ye know that he’s back?”
Blaine glanced at the others. “Why dinnae we pull up some chairs? We have a few things to discuss.”
Fergus nodded and retreated to the rear of the room, coming back with a chair under each arm. Margaret sat back in her own chair next to the bed, and all of them made themselves comfortable.
Blaine looked over at Lilidh and gave her a smile to set her at ease. “Why dinnae ye tell us what ye saw.”
“I saw him,” she said. “No' Mathe. No' the man who came back to me, but MacBrennan in truth. He was wearing his auld coat and his… his accursed sword. He’d shaved his beard, as well.”
“Where and when did ye see him?”
“Walking through town, only a few hours ago, as bold and brazen as ye please,” Lilidh said, shivering at the memory. “Nay doubt he was heading down to the Dog Ear.”
“Why do ye think that?” Blaine asked.
“I… I saw him go there last night.” She looked down with a frown. “I followed him. There’d been things happening over the last few days that made me suspicious.” She looked up again with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, laird, I truly am. I know I promised to tell ye right away if I saw anything strange, but I didnae know what I saw.”
“Calm yerself, Lilidh. I ken,” Blaine said.
“Ye do?” she asked, feeling a wave of relief sweeping over her, At least her job wasn’t at risk. After everything else that had happened, she didn’t know what she would do if she was to lose that chance at safety. “Thank ye, laird.”
“Dinnae thank me yet,” he replied grimly, giving Fergus a significant glance.
Lilidh watched the exchange and felt her heart beat faster. “What is it?”
Blaine looked back to her and she could see his eyes were troubled. “Lilidh,” he said, “There’s something ye need to know. Mathe MacBrennan has been working with us.”
Working with the laird? She heard the words, but they made little sense. How would that possibly explain the things that she’d seen? “I dinnae ken,” she whispered.
It was Fergus who spoke up. “Yer husband agreed to help Blaine with a nasty problem he has on his hands,” the old man said.
Blaine nodded. “Lilidh, do ye remember when we first met, after Mathe returned home? Ye came up to the castle to speak to us.”
She nodded. “Aye. I confessed to ye he’d come back. I was worried I’d lose my job.”
“Aye. Do ye remember what I said about the troubles in town?”
Lilidh cast her mind back. “Ye said there are people who want to cause ye harm. It worried ye that Mathe’s return might act as a catalyst; a rallying point, for them to come out of the shadows and move against ye.”
“That’s right,” Blaine said, nodding. “And I did worry; so much so, in fact, that I spoke to yer husband myself.”
“Ye did?”
“Aye. And even back then, I thought I detected a change in him; an honesty that I didnae remember ever seeing as a young man. When he spoke of his goals to make amends with ye and atone for the wrongs of the past, I believed him. And so I asked if he would help me uncover these traitors.”
“And he agreed?” Lilidh asked, scarcely able to believe it. Mathe often said it was the old laird’s influence that changed him over the years; it seemed so contrary to his goals to align him
self with a McCaskill laird once again. How many times had he told her he wished to keep to himself? Perhaps she simply didn’t know him as much as she first thought.
“He didnae agree. No' at first,” Blaine said with the ghost of a smile. “He told me in nay uncertain terms that he wasnae interested. But then a few days later, he reconsidered, and we came to an arrangement.”
“What did ye offer?”
Blaine hesitated. “I offered naught. Mathe named his price, and I paid it.”
“What price?”
“Perhaps it’s better for that to remain between ye and yer husband,” he said. “But suffice to say, Mathe agreed to work with us, and to report any information back that he could learn. But Lilidh,” he stressed, leaning forward, “I made it perfectly clear that I didnae want Mathe to risk himself, or what he was trying to build with ye. If these traitors revealed themselves to Mathe, then that was one thing. But I didnae want him to go searching.”
Lilidh looked down, thinking of all the coincidences over the last few days, and how they fit into Blaine’s story. It’s not that she didn’t believe him, but it still seemed so out of character for Mathe to accept. What on earth had he demanded to make him feel it was worth the risk?
Fergus spoke up again. “Mathe and I met every few days, to make sure he was alright.”
“By the Dundonnell,” Lilidh said in realisation, looking at Fergus’s long hair and beard. “Fynn saw ye speak when Mathe took him fishing yesterday. He told me last night.”
“Aye, that was me. Did he catch a fish, in the end?”
“He caught a trout.” Lilidh shook her head. “Fynn mentioning you was one of the things that I felt suspicious about. So I went to the West Gate to speak to him, and saw him duck out of the stables. I dinnae know why, but I followed him.”
“Down to the Dog Ear,” Fergus said.
“Aye. And I saw him inside, like he’d never left. He was the centre of attention, and everyone seemed so happy he was back.” Lilidh fell silent, remembering the mixture of fear and disbelief that she’d felt at the sight of it.
A Price to Be Paid: A Scottish Highlander Romance (Legacy of the Laird Book 2) Page 20
