The Renegade's Heart

by Claire Delacroix

  “He pledged this to you?” Alexander echoed. “And why did he owe to you such a boon?”

  Isabella flushed and dropped her gaze.

  Alexander swore with vigor as the hall filled with chatter.

  Isabella glanced up to see Alexander turn to Anthony and murmur some command which sent the older man on a mission. Eleanor had dropped her brow to her hands. Isabella surveyed her family, realizing that they thought she had surrendered her chastity to Murdoch. They convicted him without hearing the tale!

  Alexander walked toward Isabella, still in his armor, still angry. “This renegade robs my guests and my messengers, but you conjure promises from him?”

  “He seeks the return of his family’s relic, bought at Ravensmuir. He believed you knew its location.”

  “But I have told him otherwise. Have you defied me, Isabella, to assist this man in his lawlessness?”

  Isabella swallowed. “I believed that if he had the relic returned, he would be satisfied. I believe that the thief is within Kinfairlie’s hall.” Shock passed through the company at that, and people exchanged glances of alarm. “Indeed, I know of its location and we could retrieve it...”

  “Let us remain with the matter at hand.” Alexander walked closer, removing his riding gloves. “You chose to betray the trusted people of my household, on the basis of this stranger’s suspicions, specifically against my wishes in my own hall?”

  “I wished only to see justice served and when I knew you innocent of his charge, I asked for his pledge...”

  “The administration of justice is my responsibility!” Alexander shouted, interrupting her. “You, as my younger sister, have no legal or judicial right over mine. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Alexander.”

  He inhaled, obviously restraining his temper. “Upstairs, Isabella. Now.” That was all Alexander said before he spun on his heel and marched up the stairs to the tower.

  Perhaps he would hear the details of her tale in privacy, rather than before the entire company. Isabella dared to hope as much. Alexander was not unfair. He was angry in this moment, but his anger always faded quickly.

  Isabella followed him with as much comportment as she could manage. It seemed that every soul in Kinfairlie’s hall had judged her and found her guilty, just as they had judged and found Murdoch guilty. It was hardly the place to confess that the Fae were responsible for the trouble.

  Only her sister Elizabeth would believe that – and perhaps even she would not.

  Rhys fell into step behind Isabella and she knew it was not coincidence.

  At the top of the first flight of stairs, Alexander waited, slapping his gloves against his palm. She realized then that he was more angry than Isabella had ever seen him before. To her surprise, the door to the chamber that had once been shared by her brothers stood open and there were maids inside, sweeping the floor at Anthony’s dictate.

  Alexander seized Isabella’s elbow and marched her into the chamber. At a glance from Alexander, Anthony bowed and left. The maids fled after him. Rhys shut the door firmly behind the three of them. Alexander leaned his hips against the windowsill, folded his arms across his chest and surveyed Isabella. Behind him, the sea churned in shades of silver and blue, and the first stars were appearing.

  Her brother’s expression was not encouraging.

  “What precisely have you done?” he asked with a quietude Isabella did not trust.

  Rhys blocked the door behind Isabella, his arms folded across his chest and his expression no more encouraging. Isabella looked between the two of them and took a deep breath. “I tried to find the truth.”

  “At what price and by what means?” Alexander’s eyes glinted with determination when Isabella remained silent. He was as far from the mischievous boy who had tormented Isabella for much of her life as could be possible. He reminded her of her father in this moment, when the children had been caught at some transgression. “Begin with the arrival of the renegade in this very keep and do not omit one detail of what you have done.”

  Isabella knotted her hands before herself. “Murdoch came to you...”

  “Murdoch, is it then?” Alexander demanded, pushing away from the window. “You know him well enough to refer to him by his Christian name? How many times have you seen him? How many times have you spoken to him?” He spun to face her. “What else have you done with him?”

  “Let her tell the tale,” Rhys said calmly. Alexander turned to look out the window, those gloves slapping against his palm again.

  “Murdoch came to you because the relic his family had purchased at Ravensmuir had been stolen,” she said firmly. “I heard your exchange and I knew you lied to him when you said you knew naught of it.”

  Alexander glanced over his shoulder. “I beg your pardon? You heard our exchange? How was that possible when you were in your chamber and I was in a room a floor above?”

  Isabella blushed. “I listened at the door.”

  Alexander glared at her.

  “I thought he had come courting and wished to know which sister’s hand he sought. I listened. I did not anticipate what I would hear.”

  “Fair enough,” Rhys said quietly and Alexander’s lips tightened.

  “But you lied, Alexander,” Isabella continued, her own voice rising. “You said you did not know anything about the relic, much less its disappearance, but his tidings were not a surprise to you, I heard as much in your voice.”

  Alexander began to pace. “You eavesdropped upon a conversation you should not have heard and you accuse me of dishonesty.”

  “Yes,” Isabella acknowledged. “I also knew you could not be the thief...”

  “I thank you for that endorsement of my character.”

  “...and that you could not even know the identity of the thief, for you would have ensured justice was served. You would never stand by and let injustice continue.” Alexander gave her a pointed glance and Isabella took a deep breath. “Murdoch did not believe me, though, so I thought to prove your innocence.”

  “You are not obliged to defend me to a criminal,” Alexander began, then fell silent as he evidently realized some detail. “Wait! ’Twas you who read my correspondence. I knew someone had opened the trunk, for it was in disarray. ’Twas you who stole into my chamber and pilfered my possessions.”

  “Perhaps she learns the renegade’s trade,” Rhys commented.

  Isabella felt her cheeks heat yet more. “It was for the greater good!”

  “We shall have to keep a list of my sister’s transgressions, Rhys, lest we forget an item or six.” Alexander fixed her with a look. “This morning, you were in the chapel in Kinfairlie village when Father Malachy arrived. You led him from the chapel with some demand that he bless the baker’s son, who proved to be surprisingly hale. The renegade fled from the chapel immediately thereafter, for village women saw him. Did you know of his presence there?”

  Isabella stared at the tips of her shoes. “Yes.”

  “And so you lied to the priest to ensure that the rogue could escape.” Alexander began to pace the width of the chamber. “How did you come to be in the chapel this morning when Murdoch was there? Was this an assignation?”

  “I wanted to check the crypt for the stolen relics,” Isabella began but Alexander interrupted her.

  “Why did you not check the treasury?”

  Isabella averted her gaze.

  “She did,” Rhys said softly as Alexander’s eyes blazed with anger.

  Her brother exhaled and cast his gloves on the window sill. “It appears, Rhys, that we have a thief in Kinfairlie’s forest and another within its tower walls.”

  With those words, Isabella knew that her brother had decided her fate.

  And that she would not like his judgment.

  * * *

  Murdoch leaned his back against the cold stone of Kinfairlie’s tower, catching his breath as he faced the sea. The light of a lantern glowed in a window overhead and he was certain he must have been seen as h
e crossed the bailey.

  He had approached the tower from this side because it was all in darkness. When the lantern had illuminated that window so abruptly, he had been in the open. He had dropped to the ground, certain there would be a hue and cry.

  When none came, he eased forward on his belly, keeping to what shadows he could find as he worked his way toward the tower. He’d crept behind the stables to the wall of the tower and stood in the shadows now, catching his breath.

  He felt better here, more like himself and more in command of his mind and body. He was warmer, as well. Was it because of Isabella’s proximity? Or was it distance from the Elphine Queen? Murdoch suspected the latter.

  Which meant that he would never return to Kinfairlie’s forest.

  The stables were busy, ostlers shouting and squires hustling. Who had arrived? Who had ridden out? What was happening at Kinfairlie?

  Overhead, a man shouted in anger, his voice carrying easily to Murdoch’s ears.

  “I beg your pardon?” that man cried. “You heard our exchange? How was that possible when you were in your chamber and I was in a room a floor above?”

  It was the laird Alexander.

  And clearly, he was vexed with his sister Isabella.

  Murdoch did not want to imagine what the man might do to his disobedient sister. He could not even think of it. There were men who beat the women of their household, men who thought it fitting to give such women to the men in the employ of the keep for a night. Murdoch would not call it pleasure, for the lady would have none. It was true that this laird had not shown any violent tendencies, but Murdoch did not know him well – and any man could be pushed too far.

  This laird sounded at his wit’s end.

  Murdoch feared that in trying to save Isabella, he had only endangered her. He should never have slapped her horse and sent her away.

  Although if she had remained in the forest, he could not have guessed what toll the Elphine Queen might have extracted from her.

  He could not think of Isabella being abused.

  No less because it would be his fault if she was.

  And this changed his scheme. He could not simply ask Isabella to confide the location of the relic that he might retrieve it alone. Despite her conviction that her brother would never injure her, he dared not leave her undefended within these walls. He had to see her freed from Kinfairlie, which meant he had to take her with him.

  Too late, he wondered whether she would listen to any appeal he made. Was she angry with him? He would not blame her if so. Or was she as perceptive as Stewart believed? Murdoch heartily hoped that was the case.

  He considered the distance to the window, concocting a plan to best aid his lady.

  Soon.

  * * *

  In the chamber above, Isabella was unaware of Murdoch’s presence. There were no Fae, to her relief, but her brother’s anger would take some effort to dispel. She had to hope that with time, he would calm down and listen to her side of the matter. For the moment, it was clear that any word she said would be turned against her. Isabella folded her arms across her chest and remained silent, prepared to wait out Alexander’s storm.

  “Did you tell him of the contents of Alexander’s correspondence?” Rhys asked.

  Isabella did not reply, seeing no reason to condemn herself further.

  “Father Malachy believed that you had aided the rogue to escape,” Alexander continued, his voice rising again. “I insisted to that man that he must be mistaken. I defended you!” He flung his hands skyward. “I insisted that my sister would never have allied herself with a criminal!” He eyed her again. “I invite you to tell me that I spoke aright.”

  “Murdoch’s cause is just,” Isabella said. “His family bought the relic and would see their lawful property returned. Is that not fair and right?”

  “You have not told me that Father Malachy was wrong.”

  “We had no assignation.”

  “But you know more of this Murdoch than you should.” Alexander inhaled. “What of yesterday, when he seized you and Hermes to flee the village? Would you prefer to tell me what happened then?”

  Isabella felt as if her cheeks were afire. If she admitted that Murdoch had touched her so intimately, Alexander would listen to no reason. She chose the tale less likely to infuriate her brother. “This morning, I went to the chapel to see if the stolen relics had been hidden there, and Murdoch surprised me. He wanted to know who Rosamunde was...”

  Alexander took a step forward. “Rosamunde? How did he know of Rosamunde? What does he know of Rosamunde?”

  “He interrupted your messenger – “

  “Zounds!” Alexander bellowed. “Is there no end to his treachery?”

  “He has been wronged!” Isabella shouted back. “And he perceives you to be the one responsible!”

  “I do not have the relic!”

  “I know this and I would defend you to him. He believes you defend another, not that you are the villain, and that because of my intervention.”

  “And I should thank you for this, I suppose.” Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will guess that you have decided that I am wrong and that Murdoch is neither a renegade nor a brigand, but an honorable man who has been wronged.”

  “Do not mock me for thinking as much!”

  Alexander continued, his tone relentless. “And in this, you have decided that he is perfectly justified in terrorizing those who would travel the road to my holding, to steal from my family and my guests, to threaten the security of my family and to risk all the goodness that we savor here at Kinfairlie.”

  “I made him vow to halt his attacks.”

  Rhys cleared his throat pointedly.

  “I told you what the truth of it was!” Isabella continued. “You are determined to see him convicted, and equally determined to ignore the evidence I could present...”

  “Nay!” Rhys roared. “Are you mad, Isabella, to endorse this man’s nature? He is reckless and arrogant. He shows a blithe disrespect for law and order, not to mention courtesy...”

  “He did not injure you,” Isabella protested.

  “I might argue that,” Rhys retorted.

  “He did not steal from you.”

  “My dignity is beyond price.”

  Isabella gritted her teeth at the stubbornness of these two men. “He did not kill you, then.”

  “And I am to extend my gratitude to him for that?” Rhys demanded. “He terrorized my party and frightened both my lady wife and son.” There was such fury in Rhys’ gaze that Isabella took a step back.

  “They did not know that you were kin.”

  “And how would that have changed events? Not for the better, I would expect. Indeed, he might well have spilled my blood if he had known of my kinship to Alexander.” Rhys raised his voice again before Isabella could protest. “He is a rogue and a villain, Isabella, and you would have to be far more witless than I know you to be to think him a man of any merit at all.”

  “You do not know him.”

  “And who would wish to know him, given what we have learned thus far?” Rhys flung out his hands.

  “Why do you think so well of him?” Alexander asked quietly.

  “Because I know the Fae are responsible for the theft of the relics.”

  Instead of being relieved, Alexander buried his head in his hands. “First Elizabeth and now you. Is there no end to the whimsy of women?” Then he fixed her with an intent look. “There are no Fae, Isabella.”

  Isabella swallowed. “Yet I see them.”

  Alexander inhaled sharply. “You have spun a tale, Isabella, and while it might be an entertaining one told by the fire, I fear that you have mingled your wishes with the truth. This man is not who you believe him to be, and you must trust me in this assessment.”

  “You must trust me!” Isabella protested. “I am the one who has spoken with him. I am the one who has heard his side. I am the one who can better assess the manner of man Murdoch Seton is!”
>
  “You are the one who has brought him information from within these walls,” Alexander countered. “You must face the hard truth, Isabella, that your allure to him might lie solely in your usefulness.”

  Isabella folded her arms across her chest. Although she had once wondered as much herself, she now believed otherwise. “Murdoch is not like that.”

  “We shall disagree in our conclusions. Should he wish to surrender himself to my court of justice and confess to his crimes, perhaps apologize to those affected by his choices in my household, I should be glad of his gesture and reconsider my judgment. But he will not do so, Isabella. Do not yearn for him.”

  “The sooner you cannot provide him with information, the sooner his passion for you will fade,” Rhys said.

  “That is not so!” Isabella protested.

  Alexander’s voice dropped low. “Where are the chalice and platter, Isabella?”

  “I do not know. It was gone...”

  Alexander did not let her finish. “Did this rogue convince you to give it to him? Is that why you met him in the chapel? Did he vow to you that this was the best way to prompt my memory, to ensure that I had something to gain in exchange for his family relic which I do not possess?”

  “No! Of course not. I would not do any such thing.”

  Alexander lifted one dark brow and Rhys cleared his throat.

  They could not believe her capable of such deceit!

  No, they thought her beguiled.

  “No one has been injured,” Isabella insisted. “He ensured that the horse was shoed and returned. The coin has been given to the villagers in Kinfairlie. The messenger for Newcastle proceeded, only having had his message read. Rhys is bruised but otherwise well enough. Murdoch does not ensure his own gain, only that you are challenged.”

  “But Isabella, it is the right of no man to challenge my suzerainty upon my own land, unless he wishes to make war.” There was a hard light in Alexander’s eyes and he spoke with a low heat that frightened Isabella. “Murdoch Seton has found his war. I shall hunt him, no matter how far he might flee. I shall see him imprisoned here at Kinfairlie and I will see him stand in my court and confess to his crimes. I will judge him for his crimes and justice will be served.”