Highland Angel

by Hannah Howell

  "Ah, another woman, was it?"

  "A mon has his needs and is often too weak to resist the many temptations of the flesh."

  "The lasses can easily beguile a poor mon. Indeed they can. But, why do ye bring the dogs to my home?"

  "The trail they followed led here."

  Payton felt confident that his look of shock and surprise was convincing. “How could that be? I have ne'er e'en met your wife. S'truth, didnae e'en ken ye were married until rumors of your wife's death were spread about."

  "The dogs sniffed out the trail and it led right to your door."

  "They appear to have lost the trail now.” Payton gave the seated, panting dogs a telling glance. “Your wife may have paused by my door, but she didnae walk through it. I allow few women into my home. Especially another mon's wife."

  The big, dark man holding the dogs’ leads snorted. “Ye have had near half the lasses in Scotland. Tup them in the road, do ye?"

  "Gib, silence,” Roderick said and then he looked at Payton. “I am sure Sir Payton wouldnae lie."

  "Of course not. I suspect I have had half the lasses in Scotland.” Payton ignored Ian's snort of laughter. “I did not, er, tup any of them here, however. The women of my clan often stay here. And, I believe my feelings about soiling my own nest are no secret. But, please, feel free to search."

  Roderick hesitated only a moment before signaling his men to look around. “I mean no insult, Sir Payton,” he said as his men moved forward, urging their dogs on. “I dinnae accuse ye of lying to me, but my wife has an unusual skill, ye see. She could easily have made your house a refuge and ye wouldnae e'en ken she was here."

  "She can make herself invisible, can she?"

  "Nearly. The woman can skillfully flit in and out of the shadows. She can be as still and as silent as one, as weel. ‘Tis a most unladylike trick, but I place the blame upon her brothers. Too often they treated her as just another lad. I brought home a wife who lacked all training. It was a long time ere I felt she could be presented to anyone outside of Thanescarr."

  Payton wondered almost idly if he had ever wanted to hit someone as badly as he wanted to hit Roderick MacIye—repeatedly. It was a good thing Kirstie could not hear this. He had no doubt that she would be enraged, more for the insult to her brothers than to herself.

  The return of Roderick's men, with a scolding Alice close behind them, diverted Payton from his thoughts. Alice could sound positively shrewish, he mused with a flicker of amusement. That faded quickly when he saw how Ian moved to stand between his wife and Roderick's men. Gib and Wattie had suddenly turned to face Alice, their fists clenched.

  "I would strongly suggest that your men leave my serving woman alone,” Payton said.

  "Gib, Wattie,” Sir Roderick called. “Leave the woman be. We have interrupted her cleaning."

  "Cleaning?” Gib muttered as, after giving Alice one final glare, he started out the door. “The place smells like a cursed garderobe. I wouldnae be surprised if the dogs are near ruined for a sennight."

  "We have recently suffered a plague of fleas,” Payton said and shrugged. “The woman claims this is the way to end it. One must wonder, however, if the cure could prove far worse than the illness. Then, too, I wasnae expecting any visitors so didnae think this would be inflicted upon anyone.” Payton was mildly satisfied when a slight flush colored Roderick's cheeks, revealing that the man had understood the subtle rebuke.

  "I thank ye for your patience, Sir Payton,” Roderick said, and, after a somewhat curt bow, he and his men left.

  "Bastard,” Ian muttered, then frowned at his wife. “And what game were ye playing? Trying to see how hard ye could push those fools ere one of them knocked ye on your arse?"

  Alice crossed her arms over her fulsome breasts and glared at the door Roderick had just gone through. “They were making a mess of my clean floors."

  "Ah, aye, the floors.” Payton grimaced. “Ye do have a way to get rid of the smell, I pray."

  "Och, aye. Scrubbing with something less foul, a few rinses, and a few fresh rushes. Although the smell may linger a wee while in the cellars. I was a wee bit heavy-handed down there. I was anxious, ye ken, and wanted to be verra sure those beasties couldnae smell Lady Kirstie or the bairns.” She looked at Payton. “Can we let them out now?"

  "Nay just yet. I want to be sure that fool has given up the hunt for the day. We must also hope that he decides ‘tis a waste of time to use the dogs."

  "I will follow them,” Ian announced, even as he headed out the door.

  Alice sighed. “I hope my lads are nay too afeared in that wee, dark room."

  "They will be fine,” Payton assured her. “They have Kirstie with them."

  "Aye, true enough. I will start scrubbing away this stink, then."

  "Ye dinnae think we ought to leave that for a wee while in case the bastard comes back?"

  "Nay. What I put down should have taken away any trail those beasties might follow. Until Lady Kirstie and the bairns start walking about again, and laying down a fresh trail, leastwise. ‘Tis fortunate they didnae go inside the bedchambers, for I wasnae certain I had the time to hide all sign of the bairns or Lady Kirstie. By the time those fools stomped up there, however, they had ceased trying to get the dogs to sniff out their prize and only looked into each bedchamber."

  "That was a fine touch of good fortune. I hope it stays with us for a while."

  "Do ye think he believed ye, Payton? ‘Twould be best if he looked elsewhere and ne'er returned here."

  "It would be best, but we must remain prepared. We can only pray that he doesnae think too long on how the dogs led him to my door, or how convenient it was that we chose this verra day to make my house smell like a privy. If he does, he could come up with some answers that will turn his search back on me."

  "Curse it, the dogs took us right to that pretty bastard's door,” grumbled Gib as he sat down at the table and poured himself a tankard of ale. “They didnae do that at any other house."

  "Nay, they didnae,” murmured Roderick.

  Slouched in his chair, Roderick sipped his wine and stared somewhat blindly at one of the tapestries gracing the walls of his great hall. Gib was not known for his keen wits, but this time he was right. They had covered the whole town and, although the dogs had picked up Kirstie's scent, as well as Callum's, numerous times, not once had they gone straight to another door. At Sir Payton's house the dogs had acted just as they had when they had sniffed out that wretched hole in the ground Kirstie had plainly used as a hiding place. Unfortunately, it was obvious she had not used it for some time except to hide from Gib and Wattie, if the reactions of those two fools were anything to go by. The idiots had tried a little too hard to hide the fact that they recognized the place. Roderick suspected that was where they had lost Kirstie last evening.

  Several things about the confrontation with Sir Payton Murray troubled Roderick as well. Why had the man been awake and dressed so early in the morning? It could be that he had had work to do or had just arrived home after entertaining some woman, but Roderick did not think so. Sir Payton had acted appropriately surprised and somewhat outraged, but Roderick simply could not shake the feeling that it was, indeed, all an act. There had been a cold look in the man's eyes, the occasional glimpse of a fury greater than was warranted by the intrusion into his home. Then there was that reeking concoction that woman had been spreading throughout the house. He knew some of the remedies used to rid a house of fleas could be foul, but that foul? And it just happened to have been spread all over Sir Payton's house at the exact time Roderick's hounds were clinging fast to Kirstie's trail? Such a coincidence was difficult to accept.

  Roderick drummed his fingers on the arm of his ornately carved oak chair. The more he thought about all that had happened at Sir Payton's house, the more suspicious he became. Sir Payton was one of those foolish men who wasted his manly beauty on women. The idiotic wenches tumbled over themselves in their attempts to catch him between their thighs. Rode
rick was not sure when his wife might have made Sir Payton's acquaintance, but he could all-too-easily see her going to the handsome, highly lauded knight to plea for aid.

  And if she had done so, he thought with a sigh, then Sir Payton now knew too much. He, too, would have to die. For a brief moment, Roderick felt a pang of regret. Sir Payton was the only man who had made Roderick consider the possibility of expanding his sensual experiences to include men. The man's beauty could stir lustful thoughts in a stone. Sir Payton, however, only lusted after women, so there had been no chance to test his ability to gain his pleasure in some new way.

  So, Sir Payton had to die, decided Roderick, all regret vanquished by his own deeply rooted sense of self-preservation. And probably those two rather unpleasant-looking servants, too, Roderick mused. He grimaced as he realized the death toll was beginning to rise. A lot of very careful planning would be needed. The fault for that could be laid directly at Kirstie's feet. If his cursed wife had just drowned as any proper lady would have, he would not have to be dealing with all these complications.

  "I think the bastard is hiding her,” grumbled Wattie before shoving a hunk of cheese into his mouth.

  When Roderick looked at the man, he wished he had not. Wattie had the manners of a pig, and Roderick suspected he might well be maligning the pig. Struggling to ignore the way Wattie chewed with his mouth open so wide it was a miracle the food did not simply fall out, Roderick decided it was time to start on Sir Payton Murray's downfall.

  Roderick nodded. “I believe he kens where she is, too. The mon was certainly trying to hide something and I feel increasingly certain it was my errant wife."

  "So, we go back and cut us a few throats?"

  "A pleasant thought, but much too ugly. The mon is too weel known, too much admired despite seducing so many wives. His death would be carefully scrutinized. And, if my wife is found dead alongside him, I would become verra suspect indeed. Nay, we must proceed carefully, play a verra subtle game."

  "And what game would that be?"

  "Since I believe he is the source of the rumors causing me such difficulty, I believe I will begin to give him a taste of his own medicine."

  "What good will that do?” asked Gib.

  "It will leave him without any allies. By the time I am done, Sir Payton Murray will be fortunate if e'en one of his own kinsmen bothers to attend his funeral."

  "He is gone?” Kirstie asked the moment Payton let them all out of their hiding place.

  "Gone from town and I am fair certain he willnae be using the dogs again,” Payton replied as Alice shooed the children away, herding them to her kitchen. “It wasnae easy to face the mon, to listen to his lies without acknowledging them as such.” He put his arm around her slim shoulders and led her out of the dark cellars.

  "Ye dinnae sound verra certain of your victory o'er the mon. Nay as certain as I would wish ye to be."

  Payton sighed. He wanted to reassure her, wanted to make her feel safe. That would be a mistake and he knew it. Kirstie needed to know what he suspected and be fully aware of the dangers that still existed. If nothing else, such knowledge might make her more amenable, more ready to obey any commands he gave her.

  Roderick had given no sign that he was suspicious, but Payton could not shake the feeling that the man was, or soon would be. The man could not have successfully hidden his evil for so many years without having some wits. Sir Roderick had erred in not seeing the threat Kirstie was and then by not making very sure she was dead. He would not make that mistake again. Nor would he wish any of her allies to live very long, either.

  "Are we nay to dine with the others?” Kirstie asked, hesitating just inside Payton's bedchamber door when she saw the food laid out on a small table before the fireplace.

  After nudging her further inside his room, Payton shut the door and led her to a seat at the table. “Nay, not this night. Ye and I need to thrash out a few facts and rules concerning the trouble ye are in. If we had to weigh every word because we didnae wish to afright the children, we would accomplish verra little."

  "Oh,” She abruptly sat down. “'Tis bad, is it?"

  He sat down and poured them each some wine. “It might be. I dinnae think he believed me."

  "Roderick called ye a liar?” Kirstie felt outraged over that insult to Payton, even though he had, indeed, been lying to the man.

  "Nay, in truth, he was most apologetic. The problem is that the dogs led him straight to my door."

  Kirstie helped herself to several slices of roast lamb and an assortment of lightly seasoned vegetables. She was a little surprised that worry over Roderick did not seem to dim her appetite at all. It was probably because she had spent too much time over the last five years being hungry to allow worry or fear to stop her from filling her belly when food was at hand. She idly noted that being the bearer of grim news did not dim Payton's appetite, either.

  "Ye mean I spent the whole day locked up in that wee, dark room and he still kens I am here?” she asked.

  "Aye and nay. As he stood there, I would say he believed me, believed ye may weel have drawn near to my door, but ye didnae come in and I didnae see ye. I am just nay sure how long he will believe it. If he has any wit at all and thinks too long on the matter, I fear he will decide I was lying."

  "He is clever when he wishes to be.” She finished off a thick piece of bread. “And his dogs are verra good hunters."

  "Who wouldnae follow the wrong trail.” Payton sighed and savored a mouthful of turnips. “So, if those dogs didnae lead him directly to anyone else's door, he has to wonder why they came to mine."

  "I suspect he will. So, the children and I should leave ere he comes back and brings more men with him."

  "Nay, ye and the children arenae leaving.” He held up his hand when she started to argue. “He must tread warily with me for all the same reasons I must do so with him. Aye, and a few more. After all, if he believes I am aiding ye in any way, then he will believe ye have told me everything.” He frowned slightly when she paled.

  "Then he will most certainly want ye dead,” she whispered and then shook her head. “Nay, I cannae allow that. I foolishly thought that, because ye and Roderick were so evenly matched, that ye would be safe. I forgot, or chose to forget, how virulently he fights to keep his secrets. And, now that he believes we have met, he will be eager to silence ye."

  "Kirstie,” he snapped, grasping her by the wrist and yanking her back down into her seat when she started to rise, “ye chose me to aid ye in this battle. I chose to accept the challenge. I didnae accept it with any qualifications such as, if it grows dangerous, I will be done with it. Ye must cease thinking of leaving each time Roderick draws near to me."

  "But, I dinnae want ye hurt or killed or hunted."

  "Just ye and the bairns? Aye, he may have forgotten about the wee ones, but nay Callum."

  "Callum could stay with ye.” She knew her arguments were foolish, but fear for his safety forced her to offer them.

  "He willnae and ye ken it. The moment ye cast me aside as your champion, Callum will step up to take my place. He will consider it his duty to help ye and keep ye safe. And, if ye are caught, he will try to rescue you. Ye ken it weel, lass, for all ye are struggling to deny the truth. The other truth ye keep trying to deny is that the moment Roderick learns that ye ken who I am, that ye might have confided in me, he will wish me dead. Ye cannae take the battle away from my door any longer, lass. If ‘tis any comfort, love, Roderick would have cast a suspicious eye my way soon anyway, for he will track down the source of the rumors that begin to cause him so much trouble."

  She took a deep drink of wine as she thought over all he had just said. Kirstie admitted that she had boldly chosen him as her champion, but wavered over that choice at every hint of danger. She could not seem to make up her mind as to whether he was an ally or someone else she needed to protect. One chose a champion to fight a battle, not to stand at one's side only to shoo him away once things grew dangerous. That was fool
ish. And so, she thought as she frowned at him, was that last thing he had just said.

  "Ye wouldnae have started those rumors had I not told ye what Roderick was.” This time she held up a hand to stop his arguments. “I panicked. ‘Tis as simple as that. The moment I approached ye, I put ye in danger. I must accept that and cease trying to halt what I started. I cannae. All I would do is separate the targets Roderick will take aim at and, in the end, that will probably aid him, nay us."

  "Now ye show some sense.” He briefly raised his goblet in a toast before taking a drink.

  "Aye, occasionally I do so,” she drawled, “and ye would certainly think so this time as it means I agree with ye.” She ignored his grin. “Nay, we are in this together ‘til the end and I shall try to cease trying to put all back as it was when I was the only one Roderick wanted dead. In truth, it was ne'er only me, but Callum and, perhaps, e'en the younger children as weel. And, ‘tisnae about us, either, but the bairns."

  "Aye, ‘tis for the bairns."

  Kirstie sighed. “So, if Roderick decides ye were lying, that ye are helping me, what do ye think he will do next?"

  "I have no idea."

  "None?"

  "Weel, I am certain it willnae be a direct attack. Nay, ‘twill probably be subtle."

  "I see. And as ye wait for this subtle attack, what am I supposed to do?"

  "Hide."

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  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Something was wrong. Payton moved amongst the courtiers and richly dressed women and sensed a change in the air. His presence seemed to stir an uneasiness amongst some, a coldness amongst others. Only one or two women cast him a flirtatious glance. No man cornered him to garner a piece of the favor they all thought the regents had blessed him with. Since Payton doubted anyone had started to believe his denial that he had any special blessing or favor from those worthies, it had to be something else. It was increasingly clear that no one wanted anything to do with him.

  Even as Payton considered cornering one of the people who had sought his favor only recently, he spotted Sir Bryan MacMillan about to leave the great hall. Although it felt strange to hurry through the crowd with no hindrance, almost as if people stepped aside for fear of accidentally touching him, Payton did not hesitate in chasing Sir Bryan down. The man was no gossip himself, but he heard a great deal of what was being said. Payton caught up with the man just outside the great hall. He noticed that Sir Bryan was not surprised to be accosted by him.