Page 49 of Dark Side of the Laird
The guard nodded, and shut the door behind Agatha’s retreating figure, hopefully to stand guard on the other side. But what if, and I was pretty sure it was Isabella, stood in the adjoining room?
I slid my hand over the dagger on my thigh, sighing with relief that it was still there, but this wasn’t a weapon I could use in my own defense, not if I wanted to keep it safe. As it was, it was very likely Agatha and the healer knew I wore a dagger on my thigh, though neither of them probably knew what it was for. I glanced around the room. Nothing but a couple of candlesticks and a wash bowl. I’d be dead in a second if someone came in with a blade.
I had to get into Logan’s room. Even if Isabella hid in there, I couldn’t just sit here without a means to protect myself. He had an arsenal hidden in there.
This time, I took it slow. Pushed back the covers and swung my legs over the side. I let my toes touch the floor, adjusting to the coolness of the wood planks. I wiggled my toes and pressed them against the wood. They tingled at first, threatening to take away my power to walk, but within a minute or two I felt strength filling my feet. I stood, my legs wobbly. I shuffled to the foot-post, holding tight to it, and letting my legs become accustomed to standing. I wasn’t going to risk what happened last time when I tried to move too quickly. There was no telling how much of the poisoned herb I’d consumed.
A few steps to the other foot-post and then back again. I practiced walking, slowly, building strength. I was dizzy as shit, but I couldn’t let that get to me. I had to power through it. Logan’s life, my life, and apparently the lives of everyone in Scotland depended on me being able to pull myself together.
Taking a deep steadying breath, I let go of the post and walked slowly over to the sliding door that joined our bedrooms. I slid it open, half expecting Isabella to come rushing through with a wicked dagger and murder in her eyes, but she didn’t. The room was empty, dark. The light from my own chamber barely made a stripe of light in his.
But I didn’t have time to light candles, I knew where I could find a blade. I lurched forward, holding my hands out to steady myself until I reached Logan’s bed. His covers were cold to the touch, but straight and neat. He’d not slept there in weeks. Not since he started to share my bed at night, too.
I slid my hands over the edges, feeling my way toward his pillow, and then I reached behind the polished wood of the headboard, feeling the cold metal of several blades.
Thank God he’d shown me where his weapons were.
They all hung on hooks, specially made to store his weapons out of view. Since I couldn’t see, touch was the only way to make a selection. I chose a long dagger. Shorter than a sword, but long enough I felt I could fend off an attacker who had a blade.
The handle was made of bone, and I squeezed it in my fist, feeling a little safer already.
I’d just made it through the door, back to the bed and hidden the blade beneath my pillow when Agatha came back in, a stern frown on her face.
“Why are ye out of bed again?” she asked.
“Just needed to stretch,” I replied, trying to keep all emotion from my face. Logan said I was like an open book. But I couldn’t be that way now, not when we were all in danger.
“My lady,” she rushed forward, turning to shut the door. Wringing her hands together, she looked anywhere but at me. Then scurried over to help me get back under the covers, but I pushed her hands away.
“Where is Ewan?”
“There is no sign of Sir Ewan anywhere.”
My heart leapt into my throat. “What do you mean, no sign?”
“’Tis as though he simply vanished.” She shook her head in confusion and I felt the mounting dread pile heavily on top of me. “No one has seen him.”
“He can’t have just disappeared, Agatha. Keep looking.” The words were angry, bitten out in a panic. Oh, God, had Isabella gotten to Ewan somehow?
Dead God, don’t let it be so!
I pressed my hands into the mattress, steadying myself as my legs suddenly quaked, threatening to collapse.
“Where is Lady Isabella?”
Agatha frowned. “’Tis another thing… No one has seen Lady Isabella ether.”
My fears were becoming realized. The bitch had done something to Ewan. I felt it in my gut. “Have the guards search everywhere. Ewan must be found within the next half hour. It’s imperative.” I lifted my gaze, catching Agatha’s. “Our laird’s life depends on it.”
The maid nodded frantically and left the room.
“Logan, what am I supposed to do?” I whispered to the ceiling. “We need you.”
I dropped to my knees, pressing my hands together and did something I found myself doing so much more since traveling back in time. I prayed.
And I questioned why Fate was testing us so mercilessly.
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