Page 37 of The Forest Bride
That puzzled him utterly. “I have lawful cause to keep you until I am satisfied with the answers. But this warren only gets deeper.”
“Since I am innocent of malice. You can let me go. I must find Lady Lilias!”
“Lilias?”
“Lady Elisabeth. Bruce’s bastard child. She is so important. You cannot know.”
“I can,” he said slowly. “You, a slip of a lass, saving a king’s daughter? What proof do you have that Menteith had aught to do with this—missing daughter?”
“Menteith was involved. I know it, I.”
The phrase startled him. His mother had said that when her sense of Sight made her certain of something. By nature, hetrusted that phrase. But he could not trust Margaret Keith until he knew how this all fit together.
“Such a wild claim needs proof.”
She raised her hands in frustration. “You are an authority of the law. You can help. I have no one else to turn to, no time to fetch help from my kin. If you refuse, I must see to finding her myself!”
“If there was evidence, I would help. But you must stay here for now.”
“I will not. There is no time to wait.” She folded her arms.
“Best we keep you here in case you try something else foolish.”
“Duncan Campbell.” She lowered her brows. By God, she had a fierce beauty. “Promise me you will help if I can prove this.”
“I will.” His heart thumped. She stood close enough now that he leaned back a bit, too aware of the tug between them, that strand pulling, unseen but keenly felt.
“I will do whatever I must,” she conceded. “I should have gone to Menteith earlier and demanded to know what he did with Lady Lilias Bruce.”
“If you had done that, you might be looking at a noose just now. Be glad I took you away. Tell me why I should believe you. Sir John said his men came upon brigands attacking a party along the road. They rescued a girl, a laird’s daughter. They escorted her to meet her kin. He made no mention of Bruce.”
“You should believe me,” she said, “because I was part of her escort.”
A prickle went down his spine. Constantine had said Keith men were found dead at the site of the attack. This was beginning to make uncanny sense. But he would be cautious until he knew more.
“You got away,” he said.
“So did a friend. He saw the men’s badges—black and white checks on yellow. Menteith of Dunbarton, though they were the ones acting like brigands!”
“Where was your escort headed?”
“West to meet a boat, then out to the Isles and Ireland. They attacked us, I tell you. Where did they take the girl? What did Menteith say?”
That matched Lennox’s account. “MacDougalls.” He nearly spit out the name.
She stepped closer, eyes intent, cheeks flushed. “If they did take her there, we can rescue her. You are the justiciar. I appeal to you.”
“You want me to ride to stir the MacDougalls further? They do not support Bruce and the Scots cause as it is.” Now he threw a hand up in exasperation. “We need abundant proof to accuse them or Menteith of any action against Bruce or his own.”
“We have enough.” Her eyes were bright with conviction. “I was there. The prize you won—there is your proof.”
“Prize?”
“The brooch that Menteith had and gave to you. It is mine. I lost it that day.”
“Interesting.” He scowled, looking away, thinking. He had not even claimed the thing but left it with Menteith. “Are you sure?”
“Oh!” She blew out a breath. “Let Menteith sit by the fireside with his injured foot. There is a useful delay while we take Lilias back. And the men—the other men in the escort. They can all be rescued. Then you, sir, will thank me for that wayward shot.”
