Page 30 of Bride of the Merciless Laird
Joseph opened a large ledger on his desk. “The names of all those who carried out tasks beyond the castle are written here.” He peered at the parchment for a moment and looked up, frowning. “The ink is smeared.” He said, shaking his head. “I cannae see the names. ‘Tis as if someone has poured water on the page to obscure what is written.”
Ewan felt his anger rise in his throat. The miscreant he sought had covered his tracks. He swiveled. “I thank ye, Joseph I shall look further afield.”
By the time he strode into the banqueting hall his rage had hardened into a cold fury. He experienced an overriding sense of violation as he marched across to the fireplace where Duncan and Tyra were still chatting. The obvious camaraderie between them riled him. For some inexplicable reason the ease of their friendly manner toward each other offended him.
He pushed his emotions away, focusing on the matter at hand.
Taking his startled brother aside, he instructed Duncan to ride at once to the village to the house of the seamstress.
“Enquire the name of the messenger who collected the gowns from her today. Ask her, also if she’s had any other visitors to her house.”
“The weather… the tide…” Duncan blurted.
Ewan shook his head. “This must be done at once. Take a good horse, the tide is low at this time so ye can cross and be back before it rises. Wrap yerself well against the snow and report to me the instant ye return. Regardless of the hour. I’ll grant ye an explanation once it’s done.”
Duncan hurried off without another word and Ewan turned to Tyra who was looking on with an expression of alarm.
“What is it?” she asked in a hushed whisper. “Has something untoward taken place?”
Ewan glanced around. They appeared to be alone, yet he was uncomfortable speaking aloud to her here.
“Come. We cannae converse here. Follow me tae the study.”
With that he swiveled and walked through the arched entry and headed along the passageway, to the study. Tyra scrambled at his heels.
He closed the study door and ushered her to a chair, before taking out the note from his jacket and handing it over.
Observing her reaction as she read it, he noted the color rushing from her cheeks, her indrawn breath, and the trembling in her hand holding the parchment.
“What daes this mean, Lady Tyra?”
Her green-gold eyes were glazed with tears as she looked up at him from beneath her dark lashes. It was clear she was greatly affected by message, and his heart went out to her. Yet, for all his compassion, it was necessary for him to understand what was going on.
She held a hand to her throat. “Where did this come from?”
“It came from the village wi’ a parcel of altered gowns from the seamstress. It was concealed in the pocket of one of them. I opened it, opining it had been sent tae me as a reckoning from Mistress Maeve.” He shook his head. “There can be little doubt this was meant fer ye.”
She nodded, placing an arm at her waist and, as if she was struck with a sudden pain, she seemed to fold in on herself. Her lovely eyes were clouded with deep resignation.
He waited. Her chest heaved as she drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It was patently clear she knew something of this.
Her hand fluttered and came to rest in her lap.
“It’s Harris, of course.”
“Och. How d’ye ken he’s the knave who sent this?”
She gave a soft laugh. “I ken it is written in his hand. Besides…” She glanced into the fire for a moment and then met his gaze, her brows drawn together.
“The reason fer me journey tae the nuns at Pluscarden is nae simply a place fer me tae bide while Edmund seeks a suitable match fer me future and me protection. The nunnery was tae be me haven from the threats I’ve been receiving these past months since me braither banished MacDonald from our clan lands.”
He said nothing, and she went on. “I traveled with only two lads tae guard me, leaving me home in the dead of winter in the hope we would evade notice.” She sighed. “But, as ye saw when ye came tae me rescue the other night, despite all our efforts at secrecy, they were on me trail.”
“What manner of threats did ye receive?”
She tossed her head and he saw a glint of fury lighting her eyes. “Mostly, they detailed the various torments in store fer me. From the pulling of me nails, tae flogging, and far more terrifying forms of torture.”
“Was that all?” His rage against that monster was building. He could scarcely keep his voice even as he spoke to her. Foul words sizzled on his tongue at the thought of the blasted rogue who had subjected her to such terror.
