Page 10 of Bound to a Scot (Sins in a Kilt #2)
CHAPTER TEN
“ Y e need tae be a bit more discreet if ye’re tae be carryin’ on with another man,” Lorn said. “Especially if it’s beneath Burchard’s own roof.”
I’m nae carryin’ on with anybody,” Emmeline snorted.
“Are ye certain about that? Midnight meetin’s in the bleedin’ privy of all places?—”
“’Twas nae what it looked like.”
“I hope nae because it looked bad, me lady.”
Emmeline stopped pacing the length of her bedchamber and cast a sour look at the war leader. Lorn was half a head taller than her and just as wide. His rich, auburn hair was pulled back into a tail that fell just below his shoulders and his sparkling vermillion eyes were ever watchful. There was very little that went on in Castle Macfie that he did not know about. The scar over his left eye and strong jawline gave him a gruff, rugged appearance—a perception he did nothing to hinder—but Lorn was one of the kindest, most loyal souls Emmeline had ever met. He was also one of her only friends in the entire keep.
Most of the women in Castle Macfie lived in fear of Burchard. His foul temper was as notorious as his penchant for taking unwanted liberties. More than that, most knew Emmeline was not in his favor and took pains to avoid being seen with her to keep from being painted with the same brush. Lorn had never cared. He did not care for Burchard himself and only served as his war leader because he’d been thrust into the role. Over the years, he had become Emmeline’s friend and most trusted confidante. He looked out for her.
“How did ye ken we were in the privy in the first place?” she asked.
“’Tis me job tae ken what goes on under this roof.”
Emmeline frowned. It wasn’t much of an answer. She folded her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow, making it clear she wanted him to elaborate. She had been cautious. He chuckled and gave her a half-shrug.
“I saw ye creepin’ around the corridors like ye were a bleedin’ spy,” he told her. “It got me curious, so I followed ye. And when I saw ye slip intae the privy after Laird MacLachlan, I stood guard outside tae make sure nobody else walked in on ye.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised that he was protecting her virtue. He was always watching out for and protecting her.
“Me lady, may I ask what ye were doin’ in the privy with Laird MacLachlan? Is there somethin’ I should be watchin’ out fer, or…”
She shook her head. “Nay. Naethin’ like that, Lorn. Twas just a conversation I was havin’ with him. It seems the Laird is who me husband had chosen tae marry Cecilia.”
Lorn’s face immediately darkened. As protective as he was for her, he was ten times as protective about Cecilia. He watched over her the way an older brother might. It was something she was grateful for as most of the girls Cecilia’s age who ran around in the castle shunned her the way their mothers shunned Emmeline out of their fear of Burchard.
“I dinnae ken he was lookin’ tae make a match fer her,” Lorn said thoughtfully, his expression tinged with disapproval. “She’s so young.”
“Aye. Far too young. I tried tae speak up fer her, but ye can imagine how well that went over with Burchard.”
A wry grin twisted the man’s lips. “That would explain his foul disposition this evenin’.”
Emmeline laughed softly. “Aye. It would. And I’m sorry if he took me outburst out on ye.”
Lorn waved her off. “’Tis naethin’ I’ve not gotten used tae. Yer husband’s moods are like the weather—they can change in the blink of an eye. I’ve learned tae prepare fer anything and take naethin’ personally. ‘Tis the only way I can keep from throttlin’ him some days.”
“Some days, I wish ye’d dae just that.”
They shared a quiet laugh together, their bond and affection more than clear. Emmeline was grateful for Lorn. He was the only person she felt able to talk with openly. He was wise and sometimes helped check her impulsiveness with rational thought and discussion, which she appreciated. Emmeline was self-aware enough to know she had a temper of her own and sometimes made rash decisions. She was grateful to have somebody with Lorn’s wisdom to help her temper her impetuousness.
Lorn frowned. “What kind of man is Laird MacLachlan?”
“He seems kind,” Emmeline answered.
“Would he make a good husband to Cecilia?”
A bitter smile crossed her lips. “I dinnae think any man would be good enough fer her.”
“Aye. Same,” Lorn agreed with a nod.
She sighed. “But I suppose all things considered, he wouldnae be a bad man fer her tae marry. As I said, he seems kind. Seems tae have a good heart. I dinnae ken how it happened, but it seems Burchard stumbled ontae a good man.”
“I’ll assume ‘twas by accident. He doesnae tend tae surround himself with men of the highest character,” Lorn said dryly.
“Nay. He doesnae,” Emmeline agreed. “Fer his part, Maddox is nae thrilled with the idea of marryin’ a girl so young.”
“Then why is he agreein’ tae it?”
“His people have fallen on hard times and need the help Burchard is offerin’,” she replied. “He told me he daesnae want tae marry, but tis Burchard who’s forcin’ the match.”
“That doesnae surprise me. He demands loyalty and he thinks there’s nay better way tae ensure that than through marriage.”
“Makes me ill that he’s usin’ Cecilia fer his schemin’.”
“Aye. I’m nae keen on the idea either. But ‘tis the way of the world, I’m afraid.”
“I ken. Daesnae mean I have tae like it.”
They were silent for a long moment. Lorn suddenly seemed tense, his face clouded over. She could see he was thinking about something and whatever it was, it clearly troubled him.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just… ye mentioned his schemin’ and it made me think about somethin’.”
His words trailed off and she waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He drew inward. But his expression grew darker and even more troubled.
“Ye’re worryin’ me, Lorn,” she said. “What is goin’ on?”
“I dinnae ken. Nae fer sure.”
“But ye’ve got an idea?”
He shook his head. “Nae really. I may be the war leader, but yer husband tends tae keep his own counsel. I’m just expected tae follow orders and lead the fighters intae battle.”
She looked at him evenly. “But?”
“But lately, I’ve been seein’ men comin’ and goin’ from the castle I dinnae ken. Hard looking men,” he said.
“And what are they doin’, then?”
“Meetin’ with Burchard, is all I ken. They come, talk tae him, then go.”
Emmeline wrung her hands together as she processed what Lorn had just told her. As little as Lorn knew about her husband’s doings, she knew even less. But the idea of strange, hard men coming and going from Castle Macfie did not sound good. Not at all.
“What dae ye think is happenin’?” she asked. “What is he up tae?”
“I couldnae say. But the men I’ve been seein’ make me think he’s definitely up tae somethin’,” Lorn said. “They’re fightin’ men, if I’ve ever seen one.”
Emmeline had no idea what her husband was getting up to or what part Maddox had to play in whatever it was, but it worried her. The last thing she wanted was Cecilia to be put into a position where she could be hurt. Or worse.