Page 20 of Dark Side of the Laird
“She won’t hurt anyone.”
His male ego was irritating at the moment. “How do you know?” I asked. “She’s a MacDonald, don’t they do whatever it takes to get their way—no matter the costs?”
He frowned.
I leaned closer, trying to read the emotions hiding behind his fierce frown. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Logan’s eyes locked on mine, fierce and powerful. “Aye, ye are.”
7
Logan
The laird’s solar was cold, chilling my bones, but I had no desire to light a fire. I left the hearth bare, ash littering the floor. I liked the cold, it kept me on my toes, helped me to think. Helped my men to think and to listen. The best laid plans were hatched in this room by my men and my father before me.
After I finished speaking with my men today, I was going to have my nuisance guest brought in for questioning as well. Keeping the room chilled elicited a certain mindset from anyone I was going to interview, in this case, Lady Isabella. One of the reasons dungeons were so unpleasant—the incessant chill.
Three short taps sounded on the wooden door. Ewan. “Enter,” I called.
The door opened swiftly and in strode Ewan and several of my trusted guards in charge of certain sectors—Master of the Main Gate, Master of the Water Gate and Master of the Scouts.
I nodded to them each, keeping my face devoid of emotion. They closed the door and all four of them stood facing me. Each was dressed for war as they always were—weapons adorning every inch of space on their arms, legs, back, axes on their belts.
“Men.” I faced them, hands behind my back. “Ye’re all aware of the king’s visit and his departure. As I’m sure ye’re aware that he left behind a lady he wishes me to marry.”
The men gave me curt nods, none showing how they felt on the matter.
“The woman is the niece of MacDonald,” I stated.
As trained, the men showed little reaction to that news. Simply kept their eyes on me.
“Obviously, I canna marry her,” I continued. “For more reasons than I care to recount, but I’m certain ye can surmise why.”
Again, curt nods. My men were observant.
“With Lady Isabella in the castle, we’ll have to double our efforts in protecting Gealach and our surrounding lands. As far as I’m concerned, the castle now harbors an enemy.” I paced in front of them. “Have ye heard of the two men I had assigned to watch over her? How they ended up drunk in the storeroom?”
Master of the Water Gate, Taig, looked stricken for a moment before resuming his control. One of the men was his brother.
I stopped in front of Taig. “Aye, your brother.”
He stared at me, lips pressed firmly together, waiting. His red brows were drawn together in a frown, but he didn’t speak his mind. And I knew he wouldn’t without permission.
“Speak,” I said.
“My laird, Baodan wouldn’t do that. He takes his position very seriously. This clan is all he has. He respects ye greatly and would never want to see harm come to ye, the clan or Gealach.” Taig shook his head. “I canna fathom what has transpired, but I would consider it foul play.”
“And yet he’s found sotted when he’s supposed to be on duty? The man is so far gone, he can barely speak his name,” I replied. “What explanation do ye give for this? That a slip of a woman held a funnel to his lips and forced him to consume the ale?”
Taig shook his head. “Baodan has never gotten like that before in his life.” The man sounded as mystified as I felt.
“There’s a first for everything.” I shoved aside the immediate thoughts of Emma that blasted into mind.
So many firsts with her. So many more to have.
I walked away from Taig, centering my attention on the Master of the Scouts. “What say ye? Any more of your men going by the wayside?”
Gregor shook his head. “Nay, my laird. All are loyal and accounted for.”
