Page 35 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
Why did she fold it away an’ bury it? Is she hopin’ tae hide something? Or did she just nae realize how I’d use it?
Donall considered that for a moment, adding it to the list of mysteries that surrounded his strange new maid, then settled in to do some work. There were requisitions from Corvin to be reviewed and signed, so his steward could access the necessary funds, and reports from the council members regarding their individual areas of oversight. There were requests from villages, and letters from other clans, including one from Marcus MacDougall, responding to his inquiry regarding Cameron Clan movements.
Donall opened the letter and frowned. According to Marcus, there were rumors regarding an alliance between Clan Cameron and an English lord, but no one seemed to know anything more than that there was something being planned. The letter concluded by promising that Donall had only to ask, and the clans would rally behind him.
Hopefully I willnae need the aid. With any fortune, I will be able tae end matters on me own. Still, I cannae deny I am grateful tae have the support - especially if Rory Cameron has English allies now. Clan Cameron is far larger than Clan Ranald, but Clan Stewart or Clan MacLean can match them - an’ both taegether can provide a strong enough force to withstand any allies.
The sound of a guard calling an alarm pulled Donall from his paperwork. He frowned, then rose and went to the window as the gate opened to reveal Ewan, riding back through the gates. Even from where he stood, Donall could see his second-in-command’s shoulders were stiff. His stomach clenched.
Ewan met him at the doors to the Great Hall, his expression as grim as his posture. “Me laird.”
“Aye.” Donall studied his face. “Ye found somethin’?”
“Aye. Signs o’ riders - medium an’ large groups. Signs on the border of single scouts an’ possibly larger raiding parties. An’ while I was among the cliffs by the southeast watchtower, I saw two unfamiliar riders. I tried tae approach them, but they disappeared intae the peat bogs an’ I couldnae trace them.”
Donall grimaced. “Och, tha’s nae good.”
No one would enter the peat bogs unless they were familiar with the terrain and the safe paths through the swampy areas. Unfamiliar riders would likely be Cameron spies, but suchfamiliarity indicated that they’d been spying on that area for a long time.
“What dae ye wish tae dae, me laird?”
Donall considered. Ewan was an intelligent man, but the two of them were often aware of different things. “Can ye show me where ye found signs, an’ where the riders disappeared?”
“Aye.” Ewan nodded.
“Then taemorrow, ye an’ I will ride out, an’ we’ll see if we can find any more information.” Donall took a deep breath. “I’ll see if I can track through the peat bogs – let us hope that the weather an’ the mists dinnae entirely obscure the paths an’ the trace.”
Ewan nodded. He started to say something else, but Maisie appeared, her eyes lighting up with happiness when she saw Ewan standing in the Hall. Ewan’s gaze softened with warmth.
Donall smiled to himself and stepped aside. “Get some rest, Ewan. We’ll leave taemorrow, so enjoy taenight, however suits ye best.”
Ewan hesitated. “Me laird…”
“Go have a bath an’ be with yer lass, Ewan.” Donall clapped his friend on the shoulder, then turned away and made his way back toward his office before his friend could say another word.
He was pleased that Ewan seemed to have found someone to share his life with - and that Maisie had apparently found a man worthy of her and had secured his attention and affections. He was glad to see his friends, and one of his closest confidantes, enjoying such happiness.
All the same, he couldn’t help the cold, tight feeling in his belly, and the thought that filled his mind and refused to be banished, no matter how hard he tried.
I wish I could find someone tae be with, someone I could trust with me heart an’ me life.
Lydia made her way through the corridors of Ranald Keep, her mind and emotions in a tangle that kept her from resting. She felt weary, but too restless, distressed, and confused to even consider sleeping. The sight she’d seen earlier that day still haunted her thoughts.
The map of Clan Ranald lands… including the red-inked border between Clan Cameron and Clan Ranald. That alone had been disquieting. But what had truly shaken her had been the carefully noted roads for trade routes, including the one the caravan had been following when it was attacked.
She’d never considered the road they’d taken, never thought it mattered. But the map had showed three other routes that traveled between the border where she’d joined the caravan and the town that had been mentioned as their final destination. Theone they’d chosen was the only one to cross Ranald territory, but then, none of her companions on the road had arrived at the keep since her rescue. Most likely, Ranald Keep had not been their final destination. But in that case, why choose that route, when the one passing through the MacLean or Stewart lands would have been more direct, and perhaps safer?
There is something wrong. I do not know what it is, or understand what exactly it means, but even so… why take the route that would bring me closest to the very clan, and the very laird, I am trying to escape?
And if they chose that route on purpose, especially if they didn’t know who I was… why choose that path? Was there some plan, some reason, that affects Clan Ranald?
The thoughts troubled her, and all the more because she wasn’t certain whether the oddities were part of a plan against Laird Ranald, a plan against her, or perhaps held no meaning at all.
A familiar door came into view, and Lydia paused. She hadn’t intended to visit the Ranald family library, but she had found it to be a haven of sorts over the past few days. Perhaps a bit of light reading might soothe her nerves and quiet her mind. At the very least, she would be able to focus her thoughts on something else.
She reached up to push the door open, then stopped, frowning a little as she leaned a little closer to the heavy oaken panel. The library should have been deserted at this time of night, but shethought she’d heard a noise. She held still, ear pressed close to the door, and listened.
Again she heard it, something like a low growl. Lydia felt her heart clench, and she wasted no time in pushing the door open and walking inside, intent on offering what help or comfort she could. She followed the sounds toward the small table by the fire. Then she stopped, somewhat shocked by the sight before her.
