Vexing the Highlander

by Terry Spear

  Inghean looked around at the sleeping, injured men and quietly added, “Someone else was looking for it after I removed it. What need have you of the arrow?”

  “A memento for Sim so he can tell wild tales of how he was nearly gored by a boar only to be shot then by a hunter’s arrow.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You were no’ there when he was shot. You were…elsewhere.”

  “Aye.” But Alban desperately wanted to know who had come seeking the arrow. Who else would be interested but the one who had used it on Sim? Trying to cover his tracks lest someone would think he was trying to kill him or someone else, like the king?

  “I canna see Sim wanting the arrow for that reason. Might there be another reason?” the healer asked slyly.

  “No’ one that I can offer.”

  She pulled him into a little room off the main one and shut the door. “Do you believe someone was trying to kill Sim?”

  “Or he got in the way of someone else whom the perpetrator was trying to shoot. Who came for the arrow?”

  “A man I dinna know. He was a servant, not a lord. Not one of the king’s men. I thought it odd that he would ask for it. And here you are now asking for the very same arrow.”

  “I must learn who it belongs to.”

  “Then the arrow pieces are yours. Find who injured Sim. He is a good man, hard-working, and wishes to marry a slip of a woman who is trying diligently to learn how to be a proper healer. I believe you when you say Sim is recovering, and I know you didna ask the king’s permission to move him to your chamber to work. What would he do there for you? Especially when he canna use his arm for now. You took him there to question him and to protect him, aye?”

  “Aye, but no one must know of this.”

  “In the event the person who shot him might want you and your brother dead. I understand completely.” Inghean rustled through blankets and various size cloths, until she paused, and wriggled her fingers a little under the bundle of material, then finally extracted half the arrow. “The other half is in here too. I saved it after the other man came looking for it. I told him it had been used for kindling. Seemingly satisfied, he went away. How will you conceal the broken arrow?”

  Someone tapped on the door, and Inghean quickly hid them back underneath the cloths. “Aye?”

  The door opened and there stood Aila, her eyes growing big to see Alban speaking with Inghean.

  “Pray tell me you are no’ alone.” Alban wanted to take her by the arm and move her straight back to her chamber.

  “Nay. Mai was feeling the need to get out and walk a bit and so we came by to thank Inghean for saving her life.”

  It was possible the lady was telling the truth. But what if she had another motive. That she was seeking the arrow as well?

  “What are you doing here?” Aila asked.

  Alban almost smiled. He hadn’t expected her to ask him to explain his business to her.

  Mai quickly thanked Inghean for all her help, and then she quietly left the room so Aila could shut the door. “I am here seeking the arrow. If we dinna get it before whoever…“ Aila paused.

  “Alban has told me why he wished it too. Mayhap you can each have half—“

  “Nay. The lady doesna need to be involved in this. ‘Tis too dangerous.”

  “Aye, true enough.” Inghean retrieved the arrow pieces, but Aila looked them over carefully while Alban pulled out his cloth to hide them.

  “Mayhap I should carry them for us, in case anyone stops you for some reason.” Aila looked up at him with such sincerity, he couldn’t believe the lass was so willing to risk her life for him.

  “Lady Aila…”

  “Or no’. I was just thinking that it might be easier to conceal them under my long kirtle, than it would for you to hide it beneath your plaid.” She suddenly blushed.

  He hadn’t wanted to think of how the remnants of the arrow would be hidden underneath her kirtle, just as he imagined her own thoughts had drifted that way concerning hiding the arrow parts beneath his garments. He couldn’t stop thinking about how she would strap them to her leg. About how he would want to tie it on—to make sure it didn’t slip when she walked. What would happen then? She would walk and the arrow halves in the cloth would suddenly appear at her feet?

  He didn’t like the notion she would carry the evidence that could prove one of the lords had used it on Sim and maybe for a darker purpose than that. Yet her suggestion had merit. He had taken so long to respond, she took the cloth and wrapped the arrow pieces up so that they would be safe to wear. And then she took a couple of long strips of cloth the healer had that would be used to bind wounds. “I will return these when I have accomplished the task,” she told Inghean.

  Alban folded his arms. “Very well. Be sure to secure it well and I will walk you and your maid back to my chamber—to your chamber, rather—where you can remove it and hand it over to me.”

  “Mayhap you should tie it on to ensure it is perfectly secure,” Inghean said.

  He knew she had to be jesting, but he swore both women smiled so wickedly, his face flushed with heat. He cleared his throat and removed himself from the room. If she hadn’t been a lady, and if he’d already spoken for her—had he been able to—he would have secured it himself, just to be sure it remained where it should.

  The women seemed to take forever, and then Aila opened the door. She took a few unsure steps, her hand going to her thigh as if she intended to hold the arrow in place before it dropped to the floor.

  He took her hand and led her back into the small room. “Either I wear it, or I secure it to you so that it doesna slip from your person and cause undue concern.”

  “Do you wish me to chaperone?” Inghean said.

  “Aye,” Alban said.

  “Nay,” Aila said. “If you leave the room, you willna see what happens exactly. So if you are questioned, we were all here and we all left after thanking you for being such a great healer.”

  Inghean shook her head. “Young people these days.” Then she left the room and shut the door.

  “Do be quick about it,” Aila urged and she was blushing furiously.

  “Can you lift your kirtle so that my hands will be free to tie on the bundle?”

  “Aye,” she said, sounding a little unsure of herself.

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I can carry it, Aila. You need no’ worry about it.”

  “Nay, I still think this is the best plan.”

  She began to lift her kirtle slowly, and he thought just how sensual she looked as if she were trying to seduce him, when he assumed the way her cheeks turned crimson she was only embarrassed.

  “Here, let me.” He slid his hands up her thigh to where she’d had the arrow pieces secured, but they were already slipping. Then he removed them. “I will place this around your waist, beneath your kirtle, so that it willna slip below your hips.”

  She held her kirtle up, her chemise still covering her, and he tied the pouch that they’d created so that it hung down from a makeshift belt against her waist. It shouldn’t slip from that position.

  As soon as he pulled her kirtle down, he looked to make sure the bundle was not visible. It wasn’t.

  “You will tell no one of this, will you?”

  He smiled at her. “Nay. You are beautiful, my lady. Everything about you is. If I could offer for you, I would in a heartbeat.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, tilted her head back, and waited for a kiss.

  At least that’s what he assumed she wanted. He certainly wasn’t going to ask. Well aware he couldn’t take very much longer with her alone in the room, as much as he wanted to, or her maid and the healer would believe he’d made love to the lass as well, he leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back so passionately, he knew this was what he wanted in his life. A lass like her. Not like her, this one, because he knew he’d never find one again who was just like her.

  She parted her lips for his kiss and he slipped inside a
nd caressed her tongue with his. Already he was steel hard. It didn’t take much when he was touching her, seeing her in an intimate way that only her husband should.

  Then he pulled free, as reluctantly as she did. Tears filled her eyes, and she quickly blinked them back. “We must hurry.” Her voice was husky, and she hastily moved away from him.

  This time she walked with confidence and he was convinced she felt comfortable about carrying the arrow. But he was disturbed by her distress and wished somehow he could make it right between them.

  This time, he could barely walk, as aroused as he was.

  When Aila arrived back at her chamber, she fully intended to remove the bundle herself, without anyone else’s help, but Alban had secured it so well, she had to ask her sister to untie it.

  “You said you were going to speak with Inghean about taking care of the maids,” Wynda accused.

  “Aye. And we did.”

  “So what is this?”

  “Something I must turn over to Alban. Do hurry. He is waiting and he will probably believe I am keeping it for myself.”

  “The arrow?” Wynda struggled to untie the knot. “How in the world did you get the knot this tight?”

  “He wanted to make sure it didna slip…“ Aila paused. Did she just say he?

  Wynda’s eyes couldn’t get any rounder.

  “Can you get it or no’?” Aila asked impatiently.

  “Nay, I canna. I would have to cut it. But I would risk cutting you.”

  “Oh, just cut the pouch that he, uhm, I made and remove the arrow. We must examine it before we turn it over to Alban.”

  Wynda let out her breath and shook her head, then took her dirk and made a careful slice into the fabric, though Aila had planned to return the cloths to their rightful owners unscathed. When Wynda had removed the arrow, Aila dropped the hem of her kirtle, then the two of them examined the fletching, the feathers used to stabilize the arrow’s flight, the shaft, and the arrowhead.

  “The shaft doesna have a groove to knock the arrow,” Aila observed.

  “What? It has to have. How else could the arrow be nocked?” Wynda touched the end of the arrow that was shaped into a point just like the front of the arrow, instead of having a carved notch.

  “That could be good for identifying the hunter, could it no’? How unusual to have a nockless arrow. ‘Tis possible only one man would own such a weapon.” Aila rubbed the knotted band around her waist. How in the world was she going to get it off?

  “I agree. Hard wood was used for the upper part of the arrow, which means someone wealthier possessed it. And lighter wood at the tail end.”

  A knock at the door had them both jumping. Mai went to get it. “’Tis Alban.”

  “I am coming.” Aila took the arrow pieces and the cloths from Wynda, all but the one secured around her waist for all time, she was afraid. She crossed the floor to the door and handed them to him, all bundled up. “I canna untie the knot. Neither can my sister. Why did you have to tie it so tightly?”

  “To keep it secure.”

  “She canna cut it off without worrying the knife would slip.”

  “I will untie it.”

  “You willna!” Wynda said indignantly.

  “Can you cover the lady up so I can just see the part of her that needs to be undone? Like we did before,” he said as if reminding Aila how they had worked this before since it seemed she was in trouble with her sister for what had happened.

  “Oh, aye, of course. Why didna I think of it?” Why hadn’t he thought of it before! For that matter, why hadn’t she?

  Once her maid had wrapped her in a spare brat, she lifted her kirtle and Alban stepped into the room to untie the knot. Even he had difficulty doing so. But he finally freed it and she took a relieved breath. “Thank you. Take it with you, will you? And when you have a chance, return it to Inghean?”

  “Of course. Thank you, my lady.”

  “The arrow doesna have a nock,” Aila said.

  “That is unusual. The only time I have seen that is when a lord returned from the Crusades and showed me all about it. The bowstring would have a small ring tied where the nock would normally be placed. Then the pointed end of the arrow would slip into the ring, be drawn back, and released. The Arabs used it as a means to prevent their enemies from retrieving their arrows and using them against them. Several rings would be tied onto a bowstring to ensure one would always be available,” Alban said. “Without a ring, the arrow could not be used and the bow would be useless.”

  “Then we can find him easily. All we have to do—“

  “All I have to do, my lady.”

  She let out her breath. “Aye, is determine who uses a ring on his bow.”

  “We will be going on a hunt in a few days. When we do, I can see who does.”

  So would Aila.

  7

  Alban had their men watch for anyone who might be using a nockless arrow. They were also to listen to any conversations that might lead them to the conclusion that someone they knew had shot Sim.

  So far, they hadn’t learned anything and it had been four days now. Nothing untoward had happened to the king, and Sim was eager to get back to his work, so he returned to do his job, which meant whatever his superior asked of him.

  They hoped no one would target him again. No one had seemed in the least bit interested in the man, so they assumed the hunter who had shot him either did so by accident, or was trying to shoot the king.

  Alban had managed to stay away from Aila so she had a chance to court lords who might take an interest in her, but it was killing him to do so.

  At the meal that night, Ward said, “What you are doing is admirable.”

  Alban grunted. If the lass had not been of noble birth, he would have been the one to court her.

  “Seriously,” Ward said. “I have seen the way the two of you look at each other, moonstruck, and yet, you are trying your darnedest not to cause trouble. Ruining her chances of a match would do more harm than good if she could find a lord who is agreeable to her.”

  “So you say. It all depends on the match,” Alban said morosely. The only match he liked the idea of was one where he was with the lady. Alban poked at his fish stew. “At least I dinna think the lady is querying anyone further about the incident.” At least he hoped she was not. She hadn’t spoken with him in days, so he assumed she hadn’t learned anything more.

  He watched as she talked with Lady Umberton again, seeming to have made a friend in her, and he was glad for that.

  “You still show too much interest in her,” Ward said. “I have had three lords enquire as to why you act like you have a chance with the lady.”

  “And you said?”

  “Only that you worried about the lady because of her maids. And Lord Gustafson said you should dance with the servants outside and leave the ladies to the titled lords.”

  “Lord Gustafson, mayhap by the king’s own orders, asked Lord Dunlap to dance with the lady,” Alban said.

  Ward nodded. “Aye. True enough. But that is what the steward said.”

  Suddenly, Aila looked in Alban’s direction and the way her lips were parted and her eyes wide, he wondered if she’d gotten some news that would help with the case. He was hopeful, but also concerned. He did not want her asking anything further about the situation!

  Yet he was eager to learn what she knew.

  “Now what?” Ward asked.

  Alban turned to see what Ward was referring to, but his brother was watching Aila too. So he had seen the same thing as Alban had.

  “Possibly something else and it has naught to do with the case.”

  “Or possibly she is asking questions again that will put her at risk.” Ward sighed. “I wish you could marry the lady and take her well away from here so you could keep her out of harm’s way.”

  “Aye, me too.”

  When the meal was ended, Aila and Wynda waited for everyone to leave the great hall, talking away to each other as if they w
ere so engrossed in conversation, they didn’t realize everyone was leaving. He and Ward also waited for the hall to clear out. But then he noticed five lords were watching Aila and her sister.

  “Mayhap we should try to learn what we can later,” Ward said, “when the ladies do not have as much of an audience.”

  Alban realized just how impatient he could be and wanted to know now what Aila had learned. They had absolutely no evidence that anyone was attempting to assassinate the king, so they couldn’t make accusations based on nothing.

  Then the five lords approached the ladies, and Aila glanced back at Alban. He bowed his head a little in acknowledgement and then he and Ward left. Ward wanted to see to their men out in the field. But Alban wanted to go to their chamber and wait for word from Aila.

  Aila couldn’t wait to tell Alban who used a nockless arrow, according to Lady Umberton. The lady had been close enough to see him knock his arrow, and when he did, she saw the ring the pointed part of the back end of the arrow went into. She’d thought it was unusual, which was why she had noticed. The Earl of Dunlap was the owner of such an arrow.

  And who approached to speak to Aila and her sister after the meal? None other than the lord himself. Also, Lord Comyn, Lord Farquharson, Lord Pierce, and Lord Tarleton.

  Even Lady Umberton hung around, probably because she was interested in seeing what the gentlemen had to say to them. Maybe hoping one would be interested in her. Aila prayed the woman didn’t reveal that she was asking about a nockless arrow.

  Farquharson and Tarleton were clearly interested in Wynda. Both were talking to her exclusively. To Aila’s horror, Lady Umberton had to mention about the arrow and Aila’s heart nearly stopped beating.

  Wynda glanced in Aila’s direction, despite having been engaged in speaking with the other gentlemen. But she’d heard the comment Lady Umberton had made, and looked to see if Aila was all right.

  Aila was not all right. She felt lightheaded, like she could swoon. But she wasn’t about to. She was certain she’d lost all the color in her cheeks. She just hoped Dunlap wouldn’t notice.