Page 6 of The Scottish Bride
“Sire, I beg you to listen,” Comyn interrupted.
Edward rounded. “You were tasked with finding Bruce and made poor work of it. Someone else will have to do it now.”
“But Sire, this man? I will bring you this book and Bruce too. I swear it.”
“A book that could end this war is too valuable to entrust to you.”
A book that once belonged to Thomas the Rhymer, end the war? Liam frowned. But it was the frustration on Comyn’s handsome face that decided him.
So Edward wanted this book. If Liam could get his hands on it, he would take it straight to Robert Bruce.
“Sire, send me,” Comyn was saying. “You cannot trust this outlaw. Even if you harmed his kinfolk, he would not—”
“Such eagerness is annoying. You stand to lose what favor you have.”
“Your Grace, I will go to the lady of Dalrinnie—”
“Sire.” Liam raised his voice. “I will do what you ask.”
Chapter Two
Lochmaben Castle, Scotland
“Keith. Sir HenryKeith,” Tamsin repeated. Standing before the constable who sat at a table in the great hall, she folded her hands patiently, though she felt anything but. “I had word he might be here at Lochmaben Castle. Thank you for seeing us.”
“Do you know him, Sir Constable?” asked her cousin, Lady Kirsten Douglas, standing beside her. Kirsty’s bright smile melted most hearts yet did not seem to affect the constable. But Tamsin was grateful Kirsty had accompanied her here. Their other companion, an older lady, the sister of Dalrinnie’s seneschal, rested in another room, exhausted by traveling, despite her insistence on coming along on what she called a foolish mission to find Tamsin’s brother.
“We were hoping he would be here, sir. Pray tell us where he is,” Tamsin added.
“Keith was here perhaps a fortnight ago.” Sir Edmund Merton turned to the clerk beside him who sorted through loose pages and rolls of parchment. “Was that the one who brought a message from the king?”
“Young Scots knight?” The clerk unrolled a parchment. “Aye. Sir Henry Keith of Kincraig. Pledged to King Edward, rides as king’s messenger. He brought a letter from Edward here two weeks ago.”
“Where did he go when he left?” Tamsin felt disappointment draining her. She and her companions had ridden a half day’s journey so that she could inquire about her brother here. Where could she go next?
“Your man is not here,” Merton barked.
“Sir Henry is not my man. He is my brother and this is urgent.”
“Everyone’s business is urgent these days. Go home. It is not wise for Scotswomen to travel alone.” His eyes skimmed down, then up. “That plaid cloak does you no favors here.”
Instinctively lifting her chin at that and straightening her shoulders, Tamsin pushed back the heavy swing of her long blond braid. Anyone who knew the weft and warp of the tartan she wore might know her for a Keith of Kincraig. She wore it defiantly here, weary of living among English soldiers with all their disdain for the Scots, all their conniving and untruths. Merton seemed to be one of those.
“We have an escort from Dalrinnie Castle,” her cousin Kirsty said. “They left on a brief errand but will return soon. An older lady is here as our chaperone.”
“Who are you?” Merton gave Kirsty the same up-and-down look.
“Lady Kirsten Douglas of Thornhill.” The girl lifted her chin.
“Douglas of Thornhill lets his daughter travel about as she pleases? Trouble will come of that,” Merton muttered.
“Our lady chaperone is unwell,” Tamsin said. “We would leave here as soon as we can,” Tamsin said. Lady Edith had proven a poor traveler, prone to aches and complaints. Just now, she was resting in the small solar above the great hall. Tamsin hoped Sir David Campbell, Dalrinnie’s seneschal and Edith’s brother, would indeed return shortly so they could all leave Lochmaben, and she could continue her quest to locate Henry as he went from one place to the next for Edward.
The little bit of liberty she retained as lady of Dalrinnie would not last. Once she was outside the castle, she had considered fleeing for better freedom, but she could not endanger her companions. Besides, Sir Davey, for all his loyalty, would be obliged to find her. He and his escort had ridden out only briefly, promising to be back for the women soon. She could rely on their protection.
“Sir Constable,” she pleaded, “please help me find my brother.”
“As I said, he is not here. Clerk—look through the rolls. See if his name is listed elsewhere with a note of where he went. These ladies have time.”
