Scent of Scotland

by Mac Flynn

  I opened my mouth, but his kind, firm eyes stopped the lie I intended to speak. I sighed and hung my head. "I. . .I am sorry. I didn't wish to betray the confidence between Lady Stewart and myself."

  "A confidence that forces you to lie is a poor one," he commented.

  I lifted my head and smiled at him. "I suppose it is, particularly if it leads me to such a man."

  Cael returned my smile. "Laird Robertson is quite the unpleasant character, isn't he? I think he meant to strangle you."

  "I believe he would have succeeded if you hadn't intervened," I agreed.

  He bowed his head to me. "At your service, my lady, though there is one request I can't grant you." I raised an eyebrow, and the humor slid off his face. "I will tell Moray about your visit."

  I sighed, but nodded my head. "That would be well. I wouldn't have secrets between us even if he-well, if he insists on it."

  "I'm sure he means well, and will tell us both in good time," he assured me.

  I looked out the window and pursed my lips. I hoped rather than expected it.

  CHAPTER 37

  We returned to Cael's home to find Moray's carriage had returned. Moray met us at the rear of the house, and his dark eyes mirrored his serious expression.

  "Where were you?" he questioned us as we stepped out of the carriage.

  "Off to visit an old acquaintance, but you are back early," Cael commented.

  "McKenna did not meet me at our scheduled location," he replied.

  Cael frowned. "Your manservant is generally more reliable than that, is he not?"

  "In all the years I have known him he has never missed an appointment," Moray agreed.

  "Then this must be serious. Where can we search for him?" Cael wondered.

  Moray shook his head. "I do not know. He did not inform me of where he was lodged and I know of no acquaintances of his in the city."

  Cael draped his arm over Moray's back and led him into the house. "We shall find him, I promise you that. Allow me to offer my friends and acquaintances to search for him."

  "I would be most-" A noise from the front entrance caught our attention.

  I caught sight of Irvette as she hurried to the door. It was opened, and down the long passageway we could see it was a carriage driver. He held his hand in his hat and fidgled with the brim.

  "Is this the residence of Mr. MacLain?" he asked Irvette.

  "I answer to that name," Cael called as he strode down the passage to the door. Moray and I were close behind. "What's the matter?"

  The man turned to him. "Well, sir, Ah've got a man in me cab who says he needs to see you, but Ah think he'd be needing a doctor more. The poor fellow is sorely wounded, Ah think, but he's hiding it beneath a-" Moray pushed past the men and to the carriage that waited on the curb. He flung open the door just as Cael and I arrived behind him.

  My hand flew to my mouth as the weak sun revealed a very battered and bruised McKenna. He still wore the large coat, but it couldn't hide his face. His features were more purple than pink, and his hands were covered in welts and dried blood. He stared directly at us, but the hazy look in his eyes told me he wasn't sensible of his surroundings.

  "Ah found him by Chambers just outside one of them alleys," the driver spoke up. "He wouldn't let me take him to a doctor. He just kept mumbling this address and yer name, sir."

  "Thank you for bringing him. If you would do us one last favor and assist us in bringing him inside, you will be handsomely paid for your trouble," Cael promised.

  The driver and Moray pulled McKenna from the carriage and into the house. They carried him upstairs to a disused bedroom and set him on the sheets. Cael paid the man, who tipped his hat and promptly left.

  Moray removed McKenna's cloak and we all winced. McKenna's clothes were covered in dried blood, and I counted no less than a dozen stab wounds all over his body.

  "Silver?" Cael asked him.

  Moray shook his head. "No, but they are still very bad. Help me undress him." He turned to me. "Fetch some hot water, as much as you can carry, and towels."

  I nodded and hurried to the kitchen. Irvette stood in the kitchen with a woman of forty at the stove and stirred a pot of soup. The two women turned at my coming and the elder frowned at me.

  "What's wanted so quickly?" the cook asked me.

  "Please, ma'am. I need hot water and towels for a wounded man," I pleaded.

  The cook dropped her ladle and, with Irvette's assistance, they gathered together enough hot water to fill a bath. Irvette helped me carry the water and towels upstairs. The men had finished undressing McKenna and he now wore a clean pair of loose-fitting pants and an open blouse. Unfortunately, their careful efforts had reopened many wounds, and the blouse was spoiled with blood. Irvette gasped at the sight, and I felt the color drain from my face.

  "Quickly now!" Moray snapped.

  The table in the room was set near the bed, and it was on that that we set the bowls of water and piles of cloth.

  "Irvette, would you please fetch my bag?" Cael pleaded.

  Irvette curtsied and left only to return quickly with a stiff carpet bag. The bag was placed on the table, and Cael removed several roles of bandages. Moray and Cael set to work cleaning the wounds of the filth of the street, and then they wrapped the wounds. The effort took three hours, and when the deed was done we all were exhausted.

  Moray fell into a chair close by the bed. Cael stepped away from McKenna and ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

  "Who could have done so great a damage to a werewolf?" he wondered.

  Moray shook his head. "We will not know unless he awakens."

  Cael sighed and set a hand on Moray's shoulder. "You should sleep. I can take the first watch."

  "I am not tired," Moray replied.

  Cael smiled. "You are as terrible a liar as your mate, but I won't press the matter further." He turned to Irvette and me. "Come, ladies. The danger is not yet passed, but we have done our best."

  Cael escorted us out of the room. Irvette returned to her duties, and Cael led me to my bedroom where I took a well-deserved nap.

  I awakened several hours later. The darkness in the room told me the sun had set. I swung my legs over the bed and was glad to see a warm fire in the hearth. Unfortunately, I saw no sign of my lord. I tiptoed across the room and peeked into the hall. The house was quiet but for the murmur of voices downstairs. One of them was the humored Cael, and the other I recognized as belonging to Irvette.

  I crept down the hall to the room occupied by McKenna. The door was shut, but I eased it open and looked through the crack.

  "You may come in," Moray invited me.

  I started, and the door swung open to reveal the lord still in his chair. Beside him on the bed was the still unconscious McKenna. I stepped into the room and softly closed the door behind me.

  "How does he fare?" I whispered as I tiptoed over to the bed.

  "The worst is over, and he will no doubt recover his full strength," Moray told me. He stood and offered me his chair. "Please sit."

  I shook my head. "You need it more than I."

  He pursed his lips and grasped the rear of the chair. "I would rather pace the room. My thoughts trouble me, and a little exercise would do me some good."

  I reluctantly took the seat while Moray paced the room. His brow was furrowed and he stared at the floor as he talked more to himself than to me.

  "How could they have found him? What piece of this ill-conceived puzzle have I missed?" he murmured. "None knew of our whereabouts save for Swain, and I would trust him with my life."

  His words teased my mind with a revelation I could not quite grasp. "And yet someone knew we resided here, and took the risk to make the attempt on McKenna's life."

  There it was. The missing piece. My heart skipped a beat and I struggled to my feet. The full weight of my realization caused my legs to shake, and I caught hold of the back of the chair.

  "Lady Stewart. . ." I whispered.

 
He turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "What of her?"

  I fisted one of my hands against my chest and clenched my teeth as I looked at the floor. "She. . .it is she who has done this terrible thing, and I did nothing to stop it."

  Moray rushed to my side and caught hold of me before my legs collapsed beneath me. "What is the matter? What do you say?"

  I grasped his shirt and looked into his eyes. "She told me before she left Castle Moray that the postman for the castle was a dear friend of hers, and I received a letter just this afternoon and now this-" I shut my eyes, but my eyelids merely forced the tears out.

  Moray placed his hands on my quivering shoulders. "Abigail, look at me." I lifted my head and looked into his beautiful dark eyes. A soft smile played across his lips and he brushed the back of one hand against my cheek. "What do you know?" he gently asked me.

  "She. . .she told me I wasn't to trust you. That you would become jealous and abusive," I explained. "She tricked me into silence, and I. . .I foolishly accepted her words over your love for me."

  "What did she offer in return for your silence?" he wondered.

  "She offered me a life away from you," I replied as I pulled out the vial that I kept always near me. I held the glass out to him. "I was to-" His eyes narrowed and he snatched the vial from me.

  I started back as he whirled around and threw the vial into the fire. The glass shattered over the logs and the contents sizzled in the burning heat until it all melted away. He turned back to me with yellow-hued eyes. I gasped and stumbled away from him. Moray sighed, and the beast disappeared from his eyes. He held out his hand to me.

  "Forgive me, Beloved. I didn't mean to scare you," he assured me.

  My eyes flickered between his hand and the remains of the vial in the fire. "Why did you do that?" I questioned him.

  He dropped his hand and followed my gaze. A frown creased his forehead. "That vial contained a high content of wolf's bane."

  "Wolf's bane?" I repeated.

  He turned to me and nodded. "Aye. It is a highly poisonous plant. Even its smell is toxic, to humans and werewolves alike."

  "Then you smelled it?" I guessed.

  Moray shook his head. "No. The vial was well-sealed, no doubt so it wouldn't kill you, but in these dangerous times I have studied poisons and I recognized the distinct color. I threw it into the fire to protect both of us."

  I hung my head and my arms fell limp to my sides. "I. . .I'm sorry." My tears dotted the floor with small splashes, and I balled my hands into fists to stop shaking. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you-" He cupped my chin in his hand and lifted my eyes to look into his face. There was a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.

  "You have nothing for which to apologize," he whispered to me. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss on my tear-stained lips. "We both have not been wholly truthful with one another." I blinked at him, and he chuckled. "The deceit with my injuries," he reminded me. There was a pause before he sighed and released my chin. "And other things."

  I frowned. "What other things?" My eyes widened and I whipped my head to the door. "McKenna really isn't-"

  "He was injured, and terribly so," Moray confirmed. "But fortunately his constitution and a bit of luck brought him here to us. He awoke once, and gave me what information he could recall. From that I gathered the Stewarts were involved."

  "Then you suspected Lady Stewart all along?" I guessed.

  He shook his head. "No, I suspected her husband of the attempts on my life, but your information brings to light a more insidious plot, one that may shake the foundations of the werewolf society."

  I blinked at him. "Is it so grave as that?" I wondered.

  "Unfortunately, it may be, but we do not have the evidence to present to the council," he told me.

  "Then we must gather what we can," I insisted.

  Moray smiled down at me. "Are you not scared?" he wondered.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned at him. "I tire of being afraid, and of being deceived. Let us reveal them as the evil they are."

  Moray leaned down and pressed a teasing kiss against my lips. "Then let us do it together, and no more secrets."

  I wiped the blush off my cheeks and studied him. "Do you swear it?"

  He stepped back and bowed to me. "On my honor as a werewolf, and your mate."

  I smiled. "I will accept the former as a good enough promise. Now let us expose these fiends once and for all."

  "Then come." He took hold of my hand and led me to the door.

  "But where are we going? What of McKenna?" I wondered as we hurried down the hall to the stairs.

  "He will be fine. Cael will take good care of him," he assured me. "As for where we are headed, it is to the very depths of the city."

  CHAPTER 38

  We left McKenna in Cael's care and called for the carriage. The night was dark and foggy as we raced through the streets. The heavy clack of the horses' hooves sounded like warning bells through the streets. The silence in the carriage was broken by me.

  "What do you mean the depths of the city?" I wondered.

  "I told you McKenna awoke long enough to speak with me," he reminded me. "What he told me was he had discovered another lead, but his investigations were abruptly stopped when he was surprised by four men. They attacked him with daggers and their fists. He fended them off, but his wounds were as you saw."

  "Does he know who were these men?" I wondered.

  "He suspects it was the very ones we meant to find in our lead, but we shall see," Moray commented.

  "Who are these men who would attack a werewolf?" I mused.

  Moray shook his head. "I do not believe they knew of McKenna's secret, or they would have better armed themselves with silver weapons. As it is, that may be to our advantage when we present ourselves to the guild of assassins."

  I blinked at him. "Assassins? What does that mean?" I asked him.

  "It means to murder on behalf of another. A murderer-for-hire, if you will," he explained. "A client comes to them with a name and payment, and they seek out the person and kill them."

  My eyes widened. "And there is a guild of such men?"

  "Where there is demand there are such men, and Edinburgh is a large city with many powerful buyers," he commented.

  He glanced out the window, and I followed his gaze. We traveled through the darkest and dankest portions of the city. The fog hid the shadowed alleys and the ugly men who hid in their depths. The buildings were ill-kept, what with their crumbling exterior walls and broken, boarded windows. There were many woman in brightly-colored dresses who smiled and waved at our passing carriage. They beckoned to the wealthy with their siren songs that promised long, delightful nights at an affordable price.

  Our carriage slowed to a stop before a square, five-floor building of no particular importance. The windows on the ground floor were lit, though the others were dark, and all had thick, dark curtains that shut off a good view of any of the rooms. A simple stoop led up to the unprepossessing wood door.

  Moray helped me out of the carriage. "Remain here, and be ready to leave at a moment's notice," he warned our driver. The man nodded, and we turned our attention to the building.

  Moray led me up the short flight of stairs and knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence before I heard soft footsteps. The door opened a crack and a woman looked out. She was about fifty with sharp features that included her eyes.

  "What's wanted?" she snapped.

  "We wish to meet with Rune," Moray replied.

  Her eyes narrowed so that I could hardly see them. "Do you have an appointment?"

  "No, but-"

  "He doesn't see anyone without an appointment," she argued.

  Moray's smile widened and he bowed his head to her. "Thank you for confirming he resides here, and is at home."

  The woman's eyes widened and her face paled. She tried to shut the door, but Moray grasped the edge and forced the door open. He pushed his wa
y into the small entryway and I followed behind him. The woman scuttled back and glared at us.

  "Git out! Yer not wanted here!" she demanded.

  "You may inform Rune that Lord Moray is here and in possession of one of his daggers. If he wishes to earn an easy commission he would do well to see me," Moray told her.

  The woman mumbled some swear words and disappeared down the dark hall on one side of the house. She returned a few moments later and beckoned to us. We followed her and she led us to the rear of the house. The room she took us to was a large, comfortable study. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and a warm fire burned in the hearth. A thick wooden desk sat opposite the door with its back to a corner, and behind the desk sat a man of thirty-five. He was of normal height and build with black hair and dark eyes. His attire was as dark as his hair, and his smile held no warmth as he looked up from some papers.

  He stood at our coming and walked around the desk to greet us. "Please come in. Mrs. Dubb, you may leave us." The woman curtsied and closed the door behind us. The man returned his attention to us and studied our persons. "My housekeeper informs me you have something that belongs to me."

  Moray stepped forward and pulled out the wrapped blade. He unwrapped the weapon to reveal the silver dagger. The man frowned.

  "I see. I must assume the owner is dead," Rune commented.

  "You would assume correctly," Moray replied.

  Rune leaned back against his desk and smiled at us. The expression chilled me to the bone. "You are very bold to come to me at this hour without escort. I might call forth any number of my men to murder you here and now to collect the princely fee offered for your head."

  "Before you make any hasty decisions, might I ask for whom you are employed?" Moray wondered.

  Rune closed his eyes and shook his head. "That is an answer I cannot give, though if you have any simpler last requests I might be able to oblige."

  "Then did your client choose the silver weapon?" Moray asked him.

  The guild leader frowned. "I was not told of that specific request. Why do you ask that?"

  "But the assassin was asked to perform the deed with this silver blade, or had he an expensive tastes in weapons?" Moray persisted.

  "The assassin was fond of silver weapons," Rune confirmed.

  "Did your client happen to choose her specific assassin?" Moray asked him.