A Saint at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Six

by Barclay, Celeste

  “I’m sorry, Hardi. Ye’re right. Ye never tell me nay. Ye never tell me what to do. But I’m too used to doing what I want. I feel like I have to prove maself to yer clan, but I should have kenned I never have to prove maself to ye. What ye asked was reasonable, and I didna even consider it. There is sometimes a fine line between being free and being foolhardy. I stepped over that line today. I’m sorry I—” Blair broke off. “I dinna even ken how to say it. Upset ye. Frightened ye. Worried ye. Angered ye. I dinna ken. I just dinna ever want to make ye fear losing me, and I dinna ever want to be a source of pain to ye.”

  “I ken, Blair. I overreacted from fear. Fear of losing ye, fear of hurting again, fear of losing maself to ma grief. But I willna ever use our coupling again to control ye. Making love to ye is never aboot having power over ye. I shouldnae have done it.”

  Blair bit her bottom lip as she sat up. Hardi shook his head at her sheepish mien. “Ye liked that, didna ye?”

  “Aye,” Blair squeaked. “Mayhap I dinna always have to be—” Blair shook her head, once more unsure of what word she wanted. “Mayhap I should enjoy ye taking charge from time to time.”

  “Only if ye’re by ma side to tell me how,” Hardi grinned and ducked away as Blair playfully swatted at him. Hardi helped Blair back into her gown before they sat at the table and discussed what Blair discovered and what to do moving forward. Hardi would investigate later that night with Donald, who remained at Tor Castle. Blair didn’t ask to join him, but he explained why he wouldn’t take her. He didn’t want her skirts to cause her to fall or slow her down, and he worried about the uneven footing. He didn’t mention the obvious—they didn’t know who they might meet down there. The day dragged onto until the keep settled for the night, and it was time for Hardi to meet Donald and explore.

  Forty-Four

  Hardi and Donald held the smallest torches Blair could make. She’d wrapped the tops in less linen than usual and doused them with less pitch. While they created less light, they would also burn out faster. The men agreed to light one torch and keep the other for when the first died. Both were trained warriors, so there was little need to speak. The only words they exchanged before entering the storeroom was a heated argument about who would lead. Donald insisted that the laird stand behind him, so he could shield Hardi from any attack. Hardi refused to send someone to risk their life if he couldn’t lead the way. Donald shook his head.

  “Laird, ye willna lead anyone if ye die over who goes first into a tunnel. Besides, if ye die, yer wife will kill me, anyway. I’d rather it be by an enemy’s hand than hers. The enemy will be more merciful,” Donald grinned.

  “He’s right,” Blair hissed. She’d promised to return to their chamber and lock and bar their door after Hardi and Donald entered the storeroom. “Hardi, please.”

  Hardi held the lit torch, and he could see the fear in Blair’s eyes. The first week he’d been at Dunrobin, Lachlan dared Blair to climb the tallest tree he’d ever seen. Even as a seven year old, she wanted to prove herself. She’d scaled higher than any of the children watching imagined, but she stepped on a branch that snapped under her foot, and she slid several feet before catching herself against the trunk. Hardi would never forget the unadulterated fear he’d seen in Blair’s eyes as she clung to the tree and caught her breath. She’d been able to make her way back down, but her legs gave out when her feet touched the ground. Hardi was the one who caught her. He helped her back to the keep, and it was the first time they sat together before the fire in the Great Hall. He recognized that same fear now.

  “Vera well,” Hardi conceded and handed the torch to Donald. Blair made to turn around, but Hardi stopped her as he kissed her deeply. “I’m coming back.” Blair nodded as she turned away. Hardi recognized Blair’s fear stemmed from this being a personal plot against Hardi. His wife was made of sterner stuff, and while she would worry any time he rode out to battle, he understood what made this different.

  Hardi followed Donald down a ladder before they eased their way along the tunnel. Their eyes soon adjusted to the dim light, and Donald moved the torch from side to side to cast light onto the walls. They looked for any markings that the diggers might have left. Hardi kept a picture of the keep’s layout in his mind. After five minutes, Hardi was certain they were beyond the barmkin and into the open field outside the eastern wall. They were walking in Inverlochy’s direction. They walked at a brisk pace as the tunnel stretched on, wanting to reach as far as they could before the first torch burned out. Hardi estimated they walked for nearly half an hour before they hit what they thought was a dead end. Hardi nudged Donald’s elbow up to shine light on the tunnel’s ceiling. Donald glanced back at him when they noticed two logs and some brush covered a hole wide enough for a large man to pass through.

  Donald handed the torch to Hardi before stretching to move the foliage aside. When they could see the stars, they froze and waited. No alarm sounded, and no faces appeared. Propping the torch against the wall, Hardi gave Donald a boost so he could pull himself through the opening. Donald scanned the surrounding area, looking for any movement or reflection off of metal. They were close to a copse of trees that would make an excellent place to hide or serve as a staging site for an attack. He peered into the treetops to search for movement, but when he was satisfied that they were alone, he looked down at Hardi and nodded. Hardi extinguished the torch and tossed both up to Donald. He would leave no evidence that anyone was in the tunnel. Donald lay on his belly and reached down to help Hardi when he jumped. Hardi gripped Donald’s arms while the guard pulled, making it easier for Hardi to climb out.

  “Ye dinna look so heavy, Laird,” Donald whispered. Hardi only grinned as the men drew their swords. They had a long walk back to the keep, and neither wanted to be unprepared lest they encounter man or beast. Hardi recognized where they were and gestured toward the trees. He wanted to learn if there was anything nearby that could give him a clue to who built the tunnel and who planned to use it.

  They were close enough to Inverlochy that the ground was still muddy from the previous day’s rain. It was easy for Hardi and Donald to spot multiple sets of tracks. They noticed more than one set of hoofprints, and Hardi kneeled beside a set of smaller footprints. He gestured for Donald to look.

  “These could be a woman’s, but they’re deeper set than I would expect. The ground is soft but not boggy. Whoever it was, they were heavier than ye would expect for such a short print,” Hardi mused. Donald nodded and pointed to a set of hoofprints he found.

  “This horse either carried two riders or something vera heavy. It’s too deep set as well,” Donald whispered. “Do ye see aught else?” Hardi shook his head, but they both continued to search the area surrounding the hole. When they came up with nothing, they moved the logs and branches back to what they believed matched what they found. It was difficult to tell from above. They jogged back to the keep, avoiding the moonlight and casting a shadow. They risked being seen from light reflecting off their metal blades, so they kept them pointed down and close to their sides. Rather than enter through the postern gate, they slipped over the wall and onto the battlements in the one area that was most poorly lit. They parted ways, and Hardi went to his chamber.

  * * *

  “I’m surprised at how far the tunnel stretches,” Hardi explained as he stripped out of his filthy clothes. Blair hid them, intending to launder them herself after her next bath. She didn’t want anyone to get wind that Hardi was covered in dirt at some point. “I recognized where it ended. We were near that grove of trees aboot halfway to Inverlochy. It was far beyond where any Cameron guard could see from the battlements. It must have taken months for them to dig, and it’s long enough that hundreds of warriors could pass through. That means there could be multiple waves during the attack.”

  Blair chewed on her fingernail before speaking. “Do ye think we erred bringing the men from Inverlochy? Did we just invite the enemy to supper?”

  “I’m worried aboot that too. I
f the MacDonald’s are part of this attack, the guards who came with us will only make it easier for their fellow clansmen.” Hardi scrubbed his face and neck with soap before leaning over the ewer as Blair poured water onto his hair. She made quick work of lathering and scrubbing his locks. Once he was toweling dry his hair, Hardi mentioned what he and Donald found. “There were several sets of footprints, but one stood out to me. It was smaller—shorter and narrower—than a man’s. It was deeply set into the mud, as though the person weighed quite a lot for such a small print. We noticed something similar with a set of hoofprints. They were deeper than the others, as though there were two riders or they brought something vera heavy to the site.”

  Blair dropped the bar of soap into the basin of water, making a plop and splash. “Small but heavy? Robena.”

  “What?” Hardi’s brow furrowed.

  “She wouldnae ride a horse alone with how far along she is. I saw no one else at Inverlochy who could have made prints like ye describe. She can read and write like I can, but I suspect only Scots. She’s comfortable using it because she’s a Lowlander.”

  “But she’s a woman,” Hardi stammered. He backed away when Blair grabbed the soap and looked ready to hurl it at him.

  “Ye noticed?” Blair snapped.

  “For better or worse, when I think aboot how yer mind works, I dinna think of a typical woman. If it’s Robena who’s masterminding this, then she as intelligent as ye. I’ve never gotten that impression.”

  “Neither did I, but it explains some expressions I caught. Once we handfasted, she changed. I thought Artair pressured her to distance herself or that she didna think a handfast was enough to mean ye and I should couple.” Blair stepped around the washstand to stand beside Hardi near the fire. “She didna like kenning we were coupling because it means I could be carrying yer heir.”

  “And if ye are, then even if I die, there is someone who could rightfully claim the lairdship. We wouldnae ken if ye carried a son until after the bairn was born.” Hardi frowned. “It wasna just disgust that she kenned what we were doing. It was anger that something, or someone, stood in her way. Ye’re just as much a target as I am.”

  “But why? If it is Robena, and that’s assuming she isnae just aware of Artair’s plan and joined him, what does she have to gain? Who is she linked to here?” Blair puzzled.

  “It’s nae Artair,” Hardi reasoned. “He’s a fine warrior and a good chieftain, but he isnae a strategist and planner like this. There are too many parts to this plan for him. He’s straightforward in his tactics.”

  “Then we are back to Robena. Nae only do I wonder who she’s connected to here, how is she linked to a clan wanting to attack ye?”

  “What do ye ken aboot her from before she married?”

  “Nae much. She left within a few sennights of ma arrival.” Blair tried to recall what she’d seen three years ago. A memory scratched at the back of her mind as she attempted to recall any details. “She’s the eldest daughter of Laird Napier.”

  Hardi shook his head in confusion. He’d never heard of the clan before.

  “They’re vera small, just outside of Stirling. They’re surrounded by the Livingstones to the south, the Buchannans to the west, and the Grahams to the north. They dinna have any septs I ken of. I only ken who they are because they’re close to Stirling.” Blair twisted her mouth as she continued to think. “They’re small but prosperous enough to support themselves. As a laird’s daughter, she would have been suitable as another laird’s bride or for an heir. But I dinna think her dowry would include much land, if any. I canna guess how much else she brought to her marriage. That’s likely why she married Artair. He’s chieftain of his branch, but I bet she grew up thinking she would marry a laird. She runs a keep, but she kens it’s nae hers.” Blair shrugged, unsure what else to offer. She felt betrayed that Robena might be part of the conspiracy, might even be the ringleader. She’d gone out of her way to help Robena, sympathizing with her condition and how Artair treated her. Now Blair wondered what happened behind closed doors and whether Robena had more power than she appeared. Blair was relieved she’d revealed nothing too private while they talked.

  Hardi and Blair climbed into bed and lay on their backs as Blair’s head rested against Hardi’s shoulder. Her mind was still abuzz, and she could tell Hardi’s was the same. The fingers to the arm beneath Blair’s head caressed the satiny skin of her shoulder and upper arm. The touch was lulling her to sleep, but every time she thought she might drift off, another thought came to her.

  “I want to ken where all the dirt they moved went,” Hardi announced. “They must have started the tunnel where Donald and I came out. They couldnae have started in the storeroom because they could never haul away that much without being noticed. Even if they worked only at night, someone would notice the heaps. And they finished sooner than the missive indicated. There were nay signs of wagon wheels near the hoofprints. They drew away the last of the dirt before the rain. Those prints were from earlier today.”

  “With the possibility of so many men moving through the tunnel, do ye think they intend to reinforce it? Is that why they dinna consider it done? Or could there be another section ye didna see?”

  “Naught branched off, but mayhap there is another section. But I canna think why it wouldnae connect to the one I was in.”

  Blair jerked upright as she finally pulled forth the memory she searched for. She squinted in the dark as she tried to recollect all the details.

  “Blair?” Hardi sat up beside her, fearful of her sudden movement. His hand hovered against her back. She twisted to face Hardi.

  “I remembered that Robena used to part of a group of ladies-in-waiting who were notoriously unkind to the rest of us. It was the same group who made Maude’s life miserable. Until Kieran sent her away for embarrassing their clan and for the hateful things she said to Maude, his sister Madeline was the unofficial leader. I remember now that Robena wasna safe from Madeline’s barbs. I canna remember the things Madeline and her friends said to Robena, but it boiled down to Robena being a poor country cousin with nay dowry to lure a mon of consequence. They taunted her for marrying only a chieftain. I dinna think being from a small clan mattered until then, but it was undoubtedly humiliating to have Madeline and the others shame her for it.”

  “I canna tell ye how glad I am ye arenae at court anymore. It sounds wretched,” Hardi murmured.

  “It could be. It was for Maude. I havenae missed it for a moment, and I’d ask to stay here when ye return to pay the geld.”

  “Assuming I have land to pay for and coin to pay with,” Hardi grumbled. “But what does yer memory of Robena mean?”

  “I dinna ken that it means aught, but jealousy, shame, resentment. They may all motivate her. If she’s aught like Madeline, and I’m guessing she is since they were friends, she will hold a grudge. If she canna take it out on her family, she will hold it against anyone who has what she wants but canna have.” Blair cleared her throat before asking Hardi an uncomfortable question. “Can men—um—perform even at Artair’s age? I mean at a certain point, women canna have more bairns, but can a mon sire them?”

  Hardi laughed, “Are ye worried ye will grow auld and unsatisfied while I shrivel up next to ye?” Hardi pinched Blair’s nipple and gave her a smacking kiss. “Some men sire bairns until their last breath as an auld mon. Others find their cock doesnae work as they age. I dinna ken aboot Artair, and I dinna want to.”

  “Aye, but unless there is something wrong with Robena, they married more than three years ago, and she’s only now carrying their first child. I mean I ken it can take a long time even when they’re naught wrong, but it makes me wonder.”

  “Only a chieftain’s wife and nay bairn to show for it. I can see how that would anger a woman,” Hardi conceded.

  Blair laid back against her pillow as she wished she knew more about Robena’s life at Inverlochy. “I’m going to ask Donald to fish around with the Inverlochy men and see what he can lear
n aboot Robena. Something isnae right.” Blair and Hardi abandoned their conversation for more pleasurable pursuits before both fell sound asleep.

  Forty-Five

  Blair looked up from the children she spoke to as two riders galloped through the portcullis. At first glance, it appeared there was a riderless horse with them, but then she saw long objects wrapped in Cameron and Sutherland plaids draped over the animal. She looked to the riders, but she already knew it was Tomas and his companion. They’d returned far sooner than she expected. She sent the children to fetch Hardi from the lists, then walked to the recently arrived guardsmen.

  “Tomas…” Blair realized she still didn’t know the other man’s name. She was embarrassed to stand there, blinking, without a clue how to address the guard.

  “Roddy, ma lady,” the man offered without judgement.

  “Thank ye,” Blair smiled. “Ye are back before I expected. The laird is on his way.”

  “I’m here,” Hardi’s deep voice came from behind Blair. She turned to see Hardi approaching, the hem of his leine pulled up to swipe his face. A glimpse of his rippled abdomen shot a blazing streak of desire through Blair, but she reminded herself this was the least appropriate time to ogle her husband. “Tomas, Roddy, ye’re back soon. And with others.” Hardi spotted the bodies as soon as he saw the horses. Grief overtook him once more, and he fought to keep his voice even. But it was more than he could manage to acknowledge the men were dead.

  “Aye, ma laird,” Tomas frowned. “We should speak somewhere private.”