Page 35 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
The decision had come like lightning to her—she would tell her friend, but not now.
“Who?” Lesley furrowed her brow.
“Me councilman.”
“Dinnae tell me we’re walking all the way there just to speak with him.”
“Aye. I need to tell him to help me with the investigation.”
“The investigation?”
“Aye, the one I’m currently conducting.”
“Ye’re secretly conducting an investigation.”
“That is what I just said, nay?”
“Why are ye conducting an investigation?”
“Because I think there’s foul play somewhere,” Keira explained.
They walked out of the woods and straight into a clearing where people bustled about, and the silence that had once surrounded them became something of the past.
The market was quite lively and surprisingly bursting with energy for this time of day, and she knew part of the reason was Evander.
Ever since his people had settled into the villages nearby—or at least the ones that were currently here—everywhere,especially the markets, had grown bigger. Men nodded their heads in greeting, and women bobbed curtsies. A fading flurry ofM’Ladysfloated past them as they walked, some they acknowledged and some they couldn’t.
“Foul play? What do ye mean foul play?”
“I think whoever burned his castle wanted him here. I called me councilmen separately and asked them if they sent the letter of surrender. They all said they didn’t. But someone had to have done it. Someone among them is the culprit. I just need to find the liar and hang him for it.”
“Ye dinnae mean?—”
“If necessary, ‘tis what I’ll do. That is why I have appointed Harold to help with the investigation.”
“Of all the people ye could have chosen, ye picked him?”
“He was Fletcher’s closest friend. He kens the ins and outs of the castle. He kens who hated Fletcher and who liked him,” Keira explained, her voice momentarily wavering as memories of the night she found her husband dead on the floor flashed through her mind. “He is the best person to pick.”
“If ye say so,” Lesley murmured.
Keira could sense the lack of enthusiasm in her friend’s voice, and she wanted to ask her why she was disappointed. But then she dismissed it as they waded deeper into the market.
“I have asked him to meet me here,” she added.
“Then I shall go see if some of me herbs are available,” Lesley responded. Before she could finish her words, she had disappeared.
Keira shook her head, confusion washing over her.
As the puzzle in her head continued to grow, her eyes landed on him. Harold was standing by the blacksmith, also looking around for her.
“Why do ye want us to meet at the market?” he had asked a few days back.
“’Tis more open,” Keira had explained. “If anyone sees me enter or leave yer house, they will immediately realize the purpose. If we’re seen in the market, anyone will think that we just ran into each other.”
Harold Jones.
His red beard and icy-blue eyes made him stand out like a beacon in a market like this. But soon, his eyes met hers, and she slowly approached him.
