By God's Grace

by Felicia Rogers

  Legitimate sleep overtook her. The next morning, Duncan was gone. Empty of his warmth, Arbella worried about her future. Without thought to the consequences, she informed Tamara she was going home and left.

  Breakfast was the first thing on her agenda. Outside on a fire, she cooked. Now here she sat enjoying her eggs, and Duncan had come invading her domicile.

  With a wide stance, the laird of the Sinclair clan stood, resembling a giant beast, scoping out his surroundings and preparing to pounce. Green eyes shifted about the room. He twisted his neck and studied the instruments in the corner. Arbella ignored the actions. The bite of egg stayed in mid-air before continuing on into her waiting mouth.

  A deep inhale of breath expanded her lungs. Duncan’s handsomeness was unsurpassed. No wonder Cainneach’s widow wanted him for her own.

  The two of them were at a stalemate. Arbella continued to eat. Duncan continued to study. As if in a game of chess, he made the first move. “Why did ye leave the keep?”

  A simple question, like moving a pawn on the chessboard. Arbella shrugged and continued chewing.

  Duncan’s cheeks turned a flaming red, his ire growing. The stare he gave her would have felled a lesser man, and perhaps she should tremble with fear, but she didn’t. “Arbella, look at me,” came the whispered command.

  Without hesitation, she gazed upward, and she answered, “Aye?”

  “I asked ye a question.”

  “Aye, you did, and I gave you an answer.”

  “Nay, ye did not.” Duncan shrugged and added, “That is not an answer.”

  “Aye, it was an answer. It simply means I don’t know why I left. I just did.”

  “Verra well. I dislike yer answer, but we will discuss it later. For now ye will come back were ye belong.”

  “Duncan, was I in your bed?”

  He gulped, startled by the change in topics. “Aye, ye were.”

  Staring at the eggs, a flush crept up her cheeks. “I thought so. It had your scent all over it.”

  He didn’t respond to her statement but changed topics himself. “Arbella, it is good to see ye again.”

  She glanced up, arching her brow. Duncan had always been able to take her off-guard. Palm open, she said, “Please sit, Duncan, and make yourself comfortable.”

  He sat without complaint. On a large stack of pillows, he leaned back and made himself at home. “Arbella, why did ye do it?”

  “Why did I do what?”

  “Ye know verra well what I mean.”

  “Hmm, nay I do not. Are you asking why I haven’t visited? Are you asking why I volunteered to live with Uncle Jonas rather than the clan? Are you asking why I left your room? What are you asking?”

  “Lass, don’t test me. Ye know what I want to know. My question is why did ye participate in the games? Why ye? There are plenty of Kincade lads who could have participated and won the events and still named ye as my bride.”

  “Aye, this is true,” Arbella said, studying the ground in front of her as she refused to offer farther explanation.

  After a moment of silence, he asked, “Why did ye not present yerself with the other ladies the night before the tournament?”

  A sad smile crossed her face. “If I had presented myself with the other ladies, would I have stood out? Can you honestly say you would have looked at me for more than a few moments before dismissing me like all the rest?”

  Duncan didn’t have a ready answer. Arbella had been correct.

  Interrupting his silent musing, she whispered under her breath, “See, I knew you would never pick me.”

  He reached forward. Grabbing her hand and holding it in his own, she watched him study the work-worn appendage. With a jerk, she tried to pull it back, but he refused, holding it tighter and rubbing it in a soothing motion. Duncan stared into her eyes and spoke with a reassuring tone. “Arbella, ye are correct. I would never have chosen ye.”

  With another hard tug, Arbella proceeded to try and release his grasp, but to no avail. His lips widened. “But that is because I had no intentions of accepting any of those ladies.”

  Arbella relaxed. “But, but why?”

  The deep sound of Duncan’s laugh sent tingles down her spine. He explained, “It should be obvious, lass. First of all, I am not used to taking orders, and the council decreed this marriage hunt. Second, I have spent several years in the company of a happily married couple, and I wish to have a similar relationship with my wife, one where I could share my faith in Jesus Christ. Such a thing could never happen with just a few moments of an encounter. I wanted to have time to get to know my bride, not be forced into a sham of a marriage.”

  Arbella nodded. “Aye, I understand.”

  “Ye see, it was divine providence that helped ye win yesterday’s games and garner my attentions.”

  “Aye, I believe God did play a hand in my winning. I also believe He played a big role when Jamus set up the events.”

  “Aye, that is how it is, is it?”

  “Aye, that is how it is. Are you disappointed?”

  “Nay, not in the least. I believe ye still won the events on yer own. Did ye not?” Duncan stroked her hand until she trembled. “I am most pleased by the turn of events. However, I do have one issue.”

  “What is that, my laird?”

  “That ye have left the keep. Come to think of it, how did ye leave? The front door is not exactly on straight, and it is verra difficult to move. Did the twins assist ye?”

  “Nay.”

  “Grant and Bryce, did they help ye?”

  “Nay.”

  “Ye best be sharing who assisted with yer escape, lass.”

  “Why is that, my laird?” she said, her eyelids fluttering with the coy answer.

  “Because I intend to teach them a thing or two about letting my bride-to-be leave my protection.”

  With the sudden release of her hand, she crossed her arms, erecting a stubborn pose. “Just so you know, I needed no assistance in leaving the keep.”

  “I don’t believe ye.”

  “Fine. Don’t believe me. But I did leave your keep with nary a person’s assistance.”

  “Assuming I believe ye, how did ye get out?”

  “I went out the back door.”

  A dumbfounded expression crossed Duncan’s face. “Ye just walked out the back door!” As he gnawed on his lip, concern mounted, and he added, “Ye mustna leave the keep without letting me know.”

  “Duncan, I am not your wife yet.”

  “Aye, this is true, ye are not my wife yet. But ye will be, and I protect what is mine. Now may I make a request?”

  “Aye?”

  “Would ye please pack yer clothing and come back to the keep with me? Tamara has been preparing yer quarters for some time.”

  Arbella’s arched brow caused Duncan to laugh. She asked, “You mean I will have my own suite of rooms?”

  “Aye, ye will.”

  “Can Tamara share with me?” she uttered.

  “Aye, she picked out a suite of rooms for ye both.”

  “She did?”

  “Aye, she did.”

  “Did you approve of this? I mean, you are in agreement?”

  “Aye, I am in agreement.”

  Arbella jumped, threw off the furs, wrapped her arms around Duncan, and squeezed. Releasing him, she packed a tiny sack of belongings. Under her breath, she hummed. Duncan’s smile of satisfaction pleased her all the more. She couldn’t contain her happiness at being offered a set of rooms.

  Arbella stood in front of Duncan, a grin splitting her face. “I’m ready.”

  He rose and put out his hand in an offer to carry the full bag. Shaking her head, she held on to it. “Nay, I can handle it.”

  “Is this what I have to look forward to?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I make a gentlemanly offer, and ye refuse me.”

  Arbella bowed her head. A sense of shame prevailed. “I am sorry, Duncan. I haven’t had anyone offer to take care of
me in a long time. I would be honored to have you carry my belongings.” In a happy manner, she added, “To my quarters.”

  The tent covering was pulled aside, and Arbella stepped out. Duncan followed close behind. “Don’t get used to it.”

  “Don’t get used to what?”

  “Having yer own room.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment overtook her face.

  Duncan stopped, turned her around, and grasped her face in a gentle hold. “Because when we marry, I expect we will be sharing a room.”

  Infused with heat, a red hue swept her face. From pink to red, her cheeks burned as she worked to pull free from Duncan’s grasp. Straightening her clothing, she said, “Aye, I suppose we shall indeed.”

  Duncan let go. Chin held high, she walked toward the keep.

  ****

  Lyall watched from the bedroom window as the happy couple strolled forward. To say she wasn’t excited was an understatement.

  “How did this girl become so friendly with Duncan so quickly? Those other girls were more superior in beauty, yet they were denied. And here this lass seems to be moving into the keep! I want to know why!”

  “Of course ye do, my love. But it takes time.”

  “Why is it when I need something, ye are always spouting on and on about time?”

  Face to face, eye to eye, nose to nose, she glared at her lover. “I want to know everything there is to know about this girl. Do ye understand me?”

  “Aye, I understand.” He released a pent-up breath. A sigh of relief escaped as Lyall turned away. The intensity of her stare was almost painful.

  Staring out the window and watching the happy couple, he couldn’t help but think. At one time he would have done anything for Lyall, anything. But now, he wasn’t so sure. When Duncan arrived, and Lyall jumped into his arms, realization hit home. He was only a pawn in her grand scheme. Perhaps it was time to do what was right. It was time to do the honorable thing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Duncan and Arbella entered the keep, but they didn’t get far before Grant and Bryce appeared.

  Tall and erect, Grant said, “My laird, there is a situation that requires yer assistance.”

  Duncan raised his eyebrow. “Ye mean there is a situation my second canna handle? I am in the middle of escorting a lovely lady to her new quarters.”

  Arbella blushed, head bowing low.

  “My laird, we are sorry to interrupt yer assisting of the lovely young lass, but ye will want to come and listen. This involves Cainneach’s death.”

  Duncan opened his mouth to ask questions, but Grant continued, “I have no more details, my laird. All I know is a servant has come forward with information that may indicate foul play.”

  Bryce was with Grant. He was huge in stature, yet spoke few words. The behemoth would be more than adequate protection. “Bryce, please show Arbella to her quarters. Tamara will be waiting.”

  Closer to Bryce, Duncan whispered, “Stand guard outside the door until I arrive. Nobody goes in or out. Do ye understand?”

  Bryce nodded, and Duncan repeated, “No one.”

  Duncan faced Arbella, replacing his worried expression with a relaxed smile. He held her hands in his. “Something has come up I need to attend to. But Bryce will escort ye to yer new rooms.”

  “Duncan, it isn’t necessary. I am certain I can arrive at my destination with a minimal of stress if you would point me in the proper direction.”

  Duncan started to question the change in Arbella’s usage of language but decided against it. The lass might be trying to astound his men with words. However, Grant and Bryce didn’t appear impressed. Dumbfounded, their mouths gaped open in an attempt to repeat the words Arbella had used. Duncan was afraid if he didn’t do something to defuse the situation, Arbella would soon have her feelings hurt.

  “Well, of course, ye don’t need the assistance, lass, and I wasn’t worried about yer stress, but my own is an entirely different matter.” Placing his fingers under her chin, he tilted back her head with one finger until her brown eyes could see straight into his green ones. He added, “Ye are so beautiful, I worry another more handsome, gentler soul will come and steal ye from me.”

  Tears slipped from the corner of Arbella’s eyes, sliding down her cheeks. Duncan used his thumb to wipe them away. She cleared her throat. “If you wish for me to have Bryce as an escort, I would be honored to accept.”

  Duncan and Grant sent private looks of understanding. Sometimes women just needed a little flattery and wooing to get them moving in the direction you wished for them to go.

  Pleasure abounded as Bryce pointed the way for Arbella, and they walked side by side to the new room.

  Duncan waited until Bryce and Arbella exited before speaking. “Now what is it ye are not telling me? How come I haven’t heard more about this foul play? My brother has been dead almost four months.”

  In a hushed whisper, Grant said, “My laird, yer brother was a healthy man, never sick not one day in his life. One day Lyall comes running into the main hall screeching like a banshee. When we calmed her down, she confessed she’d gone to check on Cainneach, and he was in his bed, dead. When we looked there were no obvious physical signs for his death. The guards and I always suspected some kind of foul play, but we had no leads and no laird. We had to find ye before we could look for yer brother’s assassin. And when we got ye back, the elders had all these plans about ye needing to get married, and we just hadn’t had the time to look into it.”

  Placing a reassuring hand on Grant’s shoulder, Duncan released a sigh. “What has happened has happened, and we canna change it. This day, it seems we have been given an opportunity to reveal my brother’s assassin. Let’s make the most of it.”

  “Aye, we will at that, my laird.”

  Duncan and Grant walked into the main hall. Where the elders had sat just weeks before was now graced by a dozen household servants. Upon Duncan’s arrival, one man stepped forward from the crowd and gave a low bow.

  “Laird Duncan, we are honored to be in yer presence.”

  “Thank ye.” Duncan whispered, “I wasn’t expectin’ a welcomin’ committee. Where is the source we are looking for?”

  Glancing around the room, Grant spoke, “I don’t know.”

  The servant who spoke stepped forward, as if to touch Duncan, but Grant prevented the action by stepping between them. He muttered, “I believe ye are close enough.”

  “Verra well, but if ye wish is to gather information on yer brother’s murder, then I must get closer to ye.” All this was said by the servant while a huge grin spread upon his hawk-like face.

  Duncan returned the expression. Between clenched teeth, he asked, “Then are we to presume ye are being watched?”

  “All the time, my laird.”

  Duncan’s voice rose for the whole hall to hear. “My cook, bring everyone a drink. I wish to toast to the longevity of our relationship. May I be a decent, understanding laird, and may ye follow my every command no matter how ludicrous!”

  The servants burst forth in laughter; hesitant looks made him think some were hoping they were providing the appropriate response.

  Duncan paced the room. Arms were placed around the females, shoulder squeezes and back slaps were given to the men, words of encouragement and words of advice were shared. Eventually he came back to the source. They walked side by side for a moment before the informant spoke.

  “I must apologize.”

  “Verra well.”

  “Ye don’t understand.” His head shook; a stray tear fell from his eye. “I looked up to yer brother. Cainneach was a great leader.” Taking a shuddering breath, he continued, “My family perished in a fire, my wife, my children. I found work as a bard at one of the other keeps, but it didn’t last long. I had nowhere to go, and yer brother gave me work. A verra important work. I was like Nehemiah from the Bible. I was to taste his food and drink before his consummation.”

  Duncan refrained from staring at the servant, walking
and smiling. The urge to grab the man by his tunic and shake until he received answers was held at bay. Instead he asked, “Did my brother think he was being poisoned? Was there reason to believe such a thing?”

  “Aye, he did. Several times he would eat or drink and become violently ill. He believed someone was poisoning him, but he wasn’t sure. As I said, he gave me the job of cupbearer. I tested his food before he would consume it.”

  “Then how come my brother is dead, and ye are not?”

  “I must tell ye I didna realize what had happened until recently. The poison in just one bite was not enough to fell a man with a strong constitution, but yer brother had a healthy appetite. The day before he passed, the men killed a wild boar, and yer brother was so excited, he must have consumed half of it. I believe the poison was placed into his portion of the meat.”

  “Let’s say I believe ye. Who would have done such a thing?”

  The servant paused. Obviously the servant knew more than he was saying about the perpetrator of the crime. Mouth opened to speak, but no sound came forth. His hand rose and grasped the side of his neck as he slumped. Duncan caught the man in mid-fall, lowering him to the ground.

  Duncan shouted, “Who did it? Who killed my brother?”

  The cupbearer was able to force one tiny sound past his lips, “Wissss…” Then with one last shudder, the man breathed his last.

  A small dart protruded from the servant’s neck. His skin was turning an ugly gray color. One of the people in the hall must have taken notice of the man, because they screamed. The room disintegrated into chaos. Duncan yelled to Grant, but he had already run up the stairs and was walking the balcony surrounding the room in search of who might have shot the dart.

  Unfortunately, the balcony was empty. Grant searched for signs, but there was no evidence in sight.

  Duncan sat beside the body. What did “wiss” mean? Was it a person? Could it be the poison?

  Although he might not know what “wiss” meant, one thing was certain. There was a murderer in the keep, and they had just taken the life of their second victim.

  ****

  “Ye were right, Sori. He betrayed us.”