“Are ye certain that Fraser knew she was Katherine McKenna?” he asked.
“I am.” Lachlan’s stare turned hard. “He called her by name when he offered to buy her from me.”
Aiden’s expression turned calm and Katherine eyed him with suspicion. Why was he not more surprised? Was it because he was the one responsible?
To her mind, he seemed a prime suspect. ’Twas no secret he held her in little regard and disagreed with his brother’s plans to simply return her to her clan and receive nothing in return.
Had Aiden gone against his brother’s orders and bargained with Archibald to receive what he felt he was owed? The two brothers were openly at odds over a variety of matters, which begged the question—what, precisely, was Aiden’s level of loyalty to Lachlan?
Katherine felt a sudden chill. She rubbed her arms as panic began to steadily build inside her.
“It could be anyone,” Aiden murmured offhandedly.
“Not anyone. Someone. I want a name. Or names.”
Lachlan speared his brother with another hard glare. The expression on Aiden’s face told Katherine he would protest no longer—yet he also gave no indication that he would do as his brother bid and investigate the matter.
Lady Morag bustled into the great hall, stopping suddenly when she caught sight of her sons and Katherine gathered around the table. A deep ridge furrowed her brow as she approached.
“Why are ye here at this hour of the day? Is something wrong?”
Lachlan’s face tightened. “Sit down, Mother.”
“Ye’re hurt,” she exclaimed, reaching out to touch his bloodstained tunic. “I’ll send one of the servants to fetch my medicine basket.”
“Katherine has already dressed my wound.”
Lady Morag turned to Katherine and she saw gratitude and relief in the older woman’s eyes.
“Were ye injured on the practice field?” Lady Morag asked, her expression relaxing into a smile. “I’d like to know the name of the man who was able to best ye. Or was two? Three? All sparring with ye at the same time?”
Lachlan shook his head. “I fought Archibald Fraser. He struck a blow, but dinnae best me, getting far worse than he gave. I drove him from our land.”
Lady Morag recoiled. “Why was Laird Fraser here? And why did ye cross swords with him?”
“He tried to abduct Lady Katherine,” Aiden answered.
“In the bailey? I heard no commotion.”
Katherine cleared her throat. “I was outside the walls gathering flowers when Archibald suddenly appeared. Lachlan saved me.”
“Flowers?” Lady Morag’s voice tightened. “Ye compromised yer safety fer some flowers?”
Katherine squirmed uncomfortably under Lady Morag’s cutting glare. She was right to be angry with her. Katherine knew she never should have left the safety of the courtyard, even for such a short time. ’Twas a foolish mistake that could have had far worse consequences.
“Why Katherine ventured beyond the gates doesn’t matter,” Lachlan said as he let out a long, frustrated breath. “No one should be in such grave peril when they are that close to our keep.”
“She would have remained out of danger if she had stayed within the protection of our walls,” Lady Morag interjected curtly.
Aiden made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat and looked accusingly at Katherine, who felt a flush stain her cheek. A wave of guilt washed over her and she lowered her head.
“Ye had planned to bring Katherine back to her family. How can ye do that now? The Frasers will be watching fer ye.” Lady Morag wrung her hands together. “Ye’ll not get much beyond the gates before ye are assaulted. Ye both could be injured—or worse.”
Katherine gripped the edge of the table. Lady Morag was right. Given the events of the afternoon, ’twould be impossible to leave without being seen and possibly captured by the Frasers.
“We must outwit Archibald,” Lachlan said, his tone firm.
“How? Fraser will be suspicious of any travelers in the area,” Aiden said. “If he’s angry enough, he might even place men in our forest to watch our gates and report on yer movements.”
“Och, he’s angry enough,” Lachlan said with certainty. “I took his sword.”
Lachlan hoisted the weapon in the air. There were bits of grass and dirt on the blade, and a dark streak of dried blood. Lachlan’s blood. Katherine shuddered at the memory of seeing him slashed during the fight. Thank God he had rebounded from the wound in time to save himself—and her.
“Christ’s bones, Lachlan, ye’ve guaranteed Fraser’s retribution by taking his sword,” Aiden noted, sending a scowl at his brother.
“The action shall serve as a warning and a show of our strength,” Lachlan insisted.
“Be that as it may, ye’ve now made yerself a prisoner in this keep,” Aiden said.
“I dinnae fear Archibald Fraser,” Lachlan proclaimed.
“Ye should,” Katherine said softly. “He’s a monster.”
Lachlan’s expression hardened. “All the more reason to get ye safely back home and beyond his reach.”
“How?” she asked.
“If ye leave with only a small group of riders it would attract less attention,” Aiden offered.
“True. Yet a small convoy would be easily overtaken if we are seen. We need to take a sizable escort.” Lachlan scratched the back of his neck. “There has to be a better plan.”
“A disguise,” Lady Morag mused. “Ye must slip away without anyone knowing that ye have gone. Both of ye.” She eyed Katherine up and down with a critical glare. “If the Frasers are indeed watching, the perfect ruse would be to dress Lady Katherine as a lad.”
Lachlan scoffed. “Fraser will have to be very far away and half blind to believe that Katherine was a lad.”
Katherine blushed and modestly lowered her gaze.
“Ye could both wear servants’ clothes,” Aiden suggested.
“Nay.” Lachlan shook his head. “’Twould look too suspicious. Why would servants be in the company of so many soldiers?”
“Instead of bringing me home, ye could send a message to my father and ask him and his men to come and fetch me.” Katherine glanced up at Lachlan. “Fraser willnae dare to attack a contingent of McKenna retainers, especially if my father is leading them.”
“’Tis true that Fraser prefers to engage with smaller, weaker forces that he knows he can defeat.” Lachlan bent his head, appearing to consider the matter.
“If ye contact them, do we not run the risk of the McKennas attacking us?” Lady Morag asked, her hands still trembling.
“If the missive is carefully worded, my father will know that I have been treated well and that ye mean me no harm,” Katherine replied, hoping her words rang true.
Her father’s temper had been the cause of many a rash action, yet surely the days of travel it would take for him to arrive here would be sufficient time for it to have cooled.
“Which is it to be, Lachlan? A disguise or a message to the McKennas?” Aiden asked impatiently.
“I dinnae know yet. I need more time to consider the choices.” Lachlan frowned. “In the meantime, find me that informant.”
* * *
“Yer stitches are very neat and precise,” Lady Morag remarked, admiring the cloth in Katherine’s lap. “Thanks to yer diligence, this piece will be completed sooner than I had hoped.”
Needle in hand, Katherine looked up and smiled at the older woman. After the commotion and excitement of the afternoon, she needed something to occupy her hands—and mind. She had asked for a basket of mending to work on and instead Lady Morag had given her a section of altar cloth.
Initially, Katherine had protested the choice, preferring the more useful task of hemming or repairing, but once she saw the beautiful silk piece, her spirits had lifted. ’Twas a privilege to be allowed to work on such fine fabric with such a complicated composition.
“Did ye design the piece yerself ?” Katherine asked, running her
finger over the small section of embroidery she had just completed, using the new stitch Lady Morag had taught her.
“From memory,” Lady Morag replied. “A long time ago, I created a similar one with my mother. I was just a lass and so proud to be allowed to sew a section. My mother and I spent many peaceful hours working together on it. Though she has been gone fer many years, re-creating it somehow makes me feel closer to her.”
Katherine understood. She, too, had many happy memories of working on projects with her own mother. A wave of guilt attacked as she thought of the worry her disappearance was certainly causing her mother. No doubt Lady Aileen was consumed with fear over the uncertainty of her daughter’s fate, and Katherine regretted the unintended pain she felt certain her mother—and the rest of her family—was suffering.
It had to end. She knew there were difficulties—that in part were her fault—yet a way must be found for her to either return home or let her family know that she was alive and safe. She would speak with Lachlan at the first opportunity and express the importance of making that happen.
A collection of male voices interrupted the peace in the great hall. Katherine’s muscles tensed at the distinct sound of Lachlan’s voice. Earlier, she had told him to rest, insisting his wound would heal faster. He had thanked her for the unsolicited advice and promptly left with his men, citing important work that needed to be done.
His devotion to duty was admirable, yet like most men he was pigheaded when it came to matters of his own well-being. Her eyes scanned his form, noting that he was favoring the side where the blow had been struck. Foolish man! He would soon be abed with fever and chills if he did not take care.
“Ye’ll not persuade him to be sensible and rest,” Lady Morag said mildly. “He sees it as a weakness and Lachlan only shows his strength.”
Startled that her thoughts could be so easily read, Katherine mumbled an unconvincing denial and hastily returned to her sewing. However, trying to concentrate on the intricate design was near impossible as Lachlan’s presence proved too distracting.
After stabbing herself twice with the needle, Katherine sighed and gave up. She would ruin the lovely cloth if she pricked herself deep enough to draw blood.
She again looked over at the group of men, who were now gathered around a table, drinking. They were unusually quiet, appearing to listen intently to Lachlan before nodding in agreement and departing. Were they hatching a plan to outwit the Frasers? Or making plans for her departure?
The uncertainty unsettled Katherine. Yet there was more to the unease that she was suddenly feeling. Lachlan had not left with the others and was now staring at her with intense scrutiny.
It unnerved her. His countenance reminded her of a stable cat, sitting in watchful stillness near a mouse hole, waiting with unflinching patience for the rodent to emerge.
Katherine’s first instinct was to avert her eyes modestly, but she ignored the impulse and instead she met his gaze boldly. He regarded her with unwavering steadiness and she returned it in kind.
She motioned that he should be resting. He raised his brow and shook his head. Bristling, she raised her own.
A smile slowly emerged from Lachlan’s lips. She answered with one of her own.
Nodding, he lifted his tankard in a silent salute. She accepted his regard graciously, trying hard not to stare at his powerful hand. The sight of his strong fingers and sun-darkened skin, lightly dusted with hair, sent the most peculiar feeling fluttering through her.
Color heated and bloomed in her cheeks. Katherine lowered her gaze, needing a moment to compose herself. It took multiple deep breaths until she succeeded.
However, when she looked up again, Lachlan was gone.
* * *
Aiden entered the chapel alone, immediately spying his mother. She was kneeling at the altar, her hands clasped tightly together, her head piously bowed in prayer. Candlelight illuminated her profile and even in the dim light he could see the fine lines radiating from the corners of her eyes, a stark reminder that she was no longer a young woman.
“Mother.” He called softly to her and she tensed. Aiden grimaced. ’Twas not a good sign.
“Aiden! Ye startled me.”
She turned to meet his gaze, then quickly shifted it back to the altar, once again bowing her head. Aiden walked forward and stood beside her for several long, uncomfortable minutes.
“’Tis odd to see ye here at this time of the evening,” he remarked. “Was there a specific reason ye felt the need to come here tonight?”
“These are very unsettled times,” she answered. “Prayer brings me comfort.”
“Ye can speak with God anywhere. Why was it necessary to come to the chapel?”
Lady Morag’s face whitened. “I relish the quiet.”
Aiden gently placed a hand on his mother’s shoulder, startled at how fragile it felt. “I spoke with yer maid, Catrina, this evening.”
Lady Morag sighed deeply and sat back on her heels. “Ye know?”
“Aye. ’Twas Catrina’s husband who brought the news to Laird Fraser about Katherine McKenna. At yer behest.”
Lady Morag’s face fell. “Do ye brand me a traitor?” she asked, slowly unclasping her praying hands.
“Nay. But I need to understand why ye did it.”
Her breath caught on a sob. “’Twas never my aim to put Katherine in any danger. How was I to know that she would venture beyond the walls, making herself an easy target? Or that Lachlan would come to harm defending her?”
His mother’s voice cracked with emotion and Aiden could hear the genuine anguish and remorse in her voice.
“How could ye not realize the possible consequences of yer actions?” he asked. “Fraser is known to be a ruthless man.”
Lady Morag would not meet his eyes. “’Tis exactly why I did it. I feared Fraser’s reaction when he discovered Lachlan had lied to him about the lass.”
“And what of the McKenna’s wrath?” Aiden inquired.
Lady Morag’s eyes narrowed. “Ye kidnapped his daughter. His anger is already assured. I thought an alliance with the Frasers could aid in protecting us against the McKennas. ’Twas ye who first suggested it.”
“I did. And Lachlan rejected the notion in no uncertain terms.” Aiden stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Ye’ve always shown great deference and loyalty to Lachlan’s authority as laird. Has that changed?”
“Mayhap. I dinnae know.” Lady Morag sniffled and turned toward the altar. “The McKennas hold Robbie prisoner. If they learn of yer role in Katherine’s kidnapping, they might take ye next. And I believe that Lachlan would allow it.”
“I’ll not allow it, Mother.”
Hearing his mother’s doubts about Lachlan gave Aiden a brief sense of victory. She would support him, not Lachlan, if the choice were put to the clan.
Yet the triumph felt oddly hollow. In truth, Aiden realized that he did not wish his brother harmed. Removed as laird—aye. Brutally, savagely injured—nay.
Seeing Lachlan battle with Fraser today had brought forth emotions inside Aiden that had surprised, even shocked him. He thought he would have eagerly embraced Lachlan’s defeat at Fraser’s hand, for it would have all but assured Aiden’s place as the clan’s new laird.
Instead, he had prayed for his brother’s victory. Afterward, Aiden had wanted to deny that strong sense of protection and concern that had stirred inside him. Yet it had remained.
It puzzled him. He knew that he still wanted Lachlan gone so that he could become laird, yet when faced with the reality of his brother’s death, Aiden’s feelings had been deeply conflicted.
“I’ve done something horrible, unforgivable, haven’t I? I’m so regretful and ashamed.” Lady Morag’s face clouded with uneasiness. “Lachlan will be hurt, perhaps furious when he learns that truth. Must ye tell Lachlan? Can ye wait until the incident is not as new, as raw?”
She let the plea hang in the air.
Aiden hesitated. The loyalty that he knew he owed Lach
lan as laird was not as easily ignored as he had hoped. But what of the loyalty he owed his mother? “I see no good that could come of revealing yer betrayal to Lachlan.”
Relief flooded his mother’s eyes. “Aye, ’twould only cause him more grief.”
Grief. Aye, perhaps that was the key to ousting Lachlan as laird and leading the clan himself one day. Betrayal could break a man; turn him bitter and resentful. Mayhap even dishonorable. The MacTavish would never tolerate such a man as their laird. They had little to cling to except their pride and honor and they held tight and fast to both.
Aiden decided. He would say nothing to Lachlan. He would wait, remain watchful and vigilant and fuel the fires of dissension as they emerged.
My time will come and when it does, I will be ready.
* * *
Hands clasped behind his back, Lachlan walked through the bailey. The stitches in his side throbbed dully, a reminder of yesterday’s encounter with Archibald Fraser. A reminder, too, of his need to get Katherine McKenna safely back to her family before Fraser could strike again.
Lachlan drew in deep breaths of air while he walked, hoping the scent of fresh rain would help to calm his mind and spirit. The conversation he had just had with his stepmother had been illuminating and painful and more than anything he wished he could forget it.
Lady Morag had looked like a hare caught in a trap, her eyes wide, her face pale and streaked with tears when he confronted her with the proof of her betrayal.
Lachlan shook his head vigorously, trying to erase the memory from his mind, to block out the sounds of her sobbing and pleas for forgiveness. Yet, they lingered.
Lachlan turned a corner. Some of the men were gathered outside the barracks, polishing their swords and armor. Others were gambling with dice, boisterously shouting and laughing. They nodded respectfully as he strode past them and he silently returned the greeting.
Someone emerged from the chapel. Frowning, Lachlan altered his course to intercept them.
“Confessing yer sins, Brother?”
Aiden stiffened, then favored him with a teasing smirk. “Praying fer yer soul.”
Lachlan bit back a retort. Nay, he would not give Aiden the perverse satisfaction provoking his temper. The years of fighting for hire and defeating the enemy had taught Lachlan the importance of being in control of his emotions.
The Bride Chooses a Highlander Page 13
