Page 36 of Highland Renegade
He didn’t. Instead, he went in search of his brothers, particularly Devon. It took a bit to round them all up, but thirty minutes later they were gathered in the library.
“What’s this all about?” Carr asked.
“It seems the countess had a nightmare last night—”
“What?” Rory gave him an incredulous look. “Ye called us in here for that?”
“At least, that is what she called it,” Ian continued.
“Daft English eejits. Scared of a dream,” Devon muttered.
“She said she dreamed a man was standing in her room, watching her.”
“I think I can clear this up,” Alasdair said. “Fiona said she’d told the women the myth about our father supposedly roaming the halls looking for our stepmother’s murderer. That probably caused Lady Woodhaven to dream about it.”
Carr frowned. “That happened eleven years ago. Fiona really should stop spreading those rumors.”
Rory shrugged. “Ye have to admit it makes a good story what with all the strange noises an old castle makes.”
“And anEnglishwomanwould be stupid enough to believe it,” Devon added.
“The countess doesna strike me as stupid,” Ian said.
“I agree.” Carr nodded. “But what about the dream frightened her so much? That someone might have gotten into her room?”
“The man in the dream was holding a knife,” Ian answered.
There was a moment of silence as the brothers looked at one another. Ian knew they were probably all remembering the bloody scene from eleven years ago. The piercing, keening sound that had rent the air before their father’s roar of anger had made everyone leap from their beds in the predawn light. The convergence at the door of their stepmother’s bedchamber, the blood-spattered sheets…
Alasdair gave him a cautious look. “Ye doona think the killer has returned, do ye?”
Ian shook his head. “Emily—Lady Woodhaven—said there was no one there when she woke. Besides, she bolts the door.”
Carr knit his brows. “Why would she lock it?”
“I asked her that,” Ian replied. “She said something about it being a habit, but I didna get the sense that was the whole of it.”
“She thinks someone wants to harm her?” Alasdair asked.
“I doona think it’s come to that.” Ian looked at Devon. “But someone may want to scare her, mayhap enough into leaving.”
Devon scowled. “Ye think I have something to do with this?”
“I doona want to, but ye hate the English—”
“And ye ken why!” Devon balled his fists. “Ye were nae the ones tortured by the bloody dragoons.”
“I ken that.” Ian gentled his voice. The lad had been only six and ten when he’d been dragged away. It had taken Rory three days to track them down. Three days and nights of hell for Devon. “But ye also ken about the secret passageway that lies behind the wall of that chamber.”
Rory stepped closer to Devon. “All five of us ken about that passage.”
“Aye.” The hidden passage ran between the walls of their stepmother’s chamber and the one Emily currently occupied. The backs of the armoires had panels that opened into the small space and a few paces away was a narrow, spiraling iron staircase that led to the cellars and a postern gate.
Devon shook with anger. “But ye are blaming me!”
“I am nae blaming ye.” Ian kept his voice calm, knowing how explosive Devon could get. Carr put a hand on Devon’s shoulder, but he shook it off.
“Then why did ye bring it up?”
