Page 28 of Bound to a Scot (Sins in a Kilt #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

E mmeline unceremoniously dropped the bundle of wood to the ground with a grunt, then stood up and put her hand to the small of her back and groaned.

“That was heavy,” she said.

Lorn chuckled. “I tried tae tell ye nae to take it all at once.”

He set his bundle of wood on the ground gently, then turned to her with a grin tugging one corner of his mouth up.

“Nobody likes a showoff,” she said.

“That’s nae true. Plenty of these kitchen lasses are impressed.”

Emmeline laughed. “Ye are terrible.”

“Aye. Sometimes, I suppose that’s true.”

A few of the serving women hustled and thanked them before carrying away the wood they’d brought for the ovens. Their task done, they turned and walked out of the courtyard outside the kitchens and moved through the corridors of the castle.

“Thank ye fer yer help with that,” she said.

“Of course. I’m happy tae feel useful fer a change.”

“What dae ye mean?’

He shrugged. “Thae laird is spendin’ more time outside the castle than normal. And when he is here, he seems tae be spendin’ more time with Laith than anybody. He’s nae sought me counsel fer much of anythin’ lately.”

Emmeline frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“’Tis all right. Tae be honest, I dinnae ken what he’s doin’, but I dinnae have a good feelin’ about it,” he replied. “Frankly, I’m glad I’m nae part of it.”

“Ye’ve got nay idea what he’s about?”

Lorn shakes his head. “Nay. But I still dinnae like the look of the men he’s been meeting with. Rough lot, that. I can’t imagine they’re up tae any good.”

On the one hand, Emmeline felt bad for Lorn, who must have felt like he was being pushed out of his role in the household. On the other hand, though, she was glad he was not a part of whatever nefarious deeds Burchard was likely getting up to. She’d seen him with those rough men Lorn mentioned that morning she had enquired about them, but he had refused to tell her who they were or what their meetings were about.

And she had also noticed that Burchard was spending more time outside the castle than was usual. To be true, she had counted that as a blessing. Him not watching her from a distance had eased the burden his scrutiny made her feel, and she hadn’t thought much more about it. But seeing Lorn’s unease cast a shadow over her heart and sent her mind spinning. He was not a man given to paranoia or unfounded feelings of unease. If he was concerned, Emmeline knew she should be too.

“Dae ye ken where he’s at today?” she asked.

“I dinnae. He left just after the sun came up this mornin’, but he didnae say anythin’ tae me,” he said, his face troubled. “But somethin’ is tellin’ me that he’s makin’ plans fer after the weddin’.”

“What dae ye mean?”

“Once he seals the alliance with Maddox and has his fightin’ men at his beck and call, I have a feelin’ Burchard is goin’ tae start expandin’ his reach. He desires power more than anythin’ and havin’ an army the size of Maddox’s will allow him tae wage a war for it.”

Emmeline had long known Burchard sought power. That he sought conquest that would enrich him and bring more people and land under his control. She had long believed he would one day even attempt to wrest control of Scotland by challenging the king himself, although she’d told herself that was simply paranoid fantasy. That as power mad as Burchard was, he wasn’t so mad as to do something so reckless. But then, she’d always believed that because he didn’t have an army at his back. However, with Maddox’s fighting men bound to him by the terms of their alliance, Lorn was right to be concerned.

“What can we dae tae stop this?” she asked.

Lorn shook his head. “There’s naethin’ we can dae. Laird Macfie is goin’ tae dae as he pleases. Ye ken that better than anybody.”

Emmeline’s stomach churned at the thought of so many people dying for Burchard’s vanity. If Lorn was right, he would turn Scotland red with blood. The big man put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Dinnae fear, lass. This is all just talk. I shouldnae have said all I just did. I was talkin’ out of turn,” he said. “We dinnae ken what Burchard is plannin’. Could be that we’re just bein’ paranoid. Ye ken Laird Macfie wants more than he has.”

“Aye. ‘Tis true.”

“But ye also ken his grasp has always exceeded his reach,” he replied. “And fear nae, I always counsel caution and restraint.”

Lorn was always even-tempered and even-keeled, that much was true. But if Burchard was setting the man aside and taking counsel from Laith rather than his own advisor, Emmeline didn’t think he was willing to listen to Lorn’s call for caution and restraint. He might as well be counseling a stone wall for all the good it would do.

“Dinnae worry, lass,” Lorn said. “Everythin’ will be fine.”

The quaver in his voice told her that perhaps he’d said too much, and that he didn’t have the confidence his words otherwise suggested. It told Emmeline he was trying to soothe her nerves, that what he’d just said was what he genuinely thought was going to happen. The thought of Burchard declaring war on everybody who opposed him, with Maddox’s army at his back, and what that might mean for everybody in his path, terrified her. With an army like that, Burchard would be well unstoppable.

“I should go,” he said. “There are some things I need tae see tae.”

“Aye. Same,” she replied. “I need tae get into the village tae pick up Cecilia’s dress.”

“Well, be safe out there.”

“Always.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Emmeline threw her arms around the back of Lorn’s neck and hugged him tight. He returned the hug, and she felt some small sense of comfort in his embrace. Fear still ran rampant through her heart, but he was helping stave off the worst of it.

“Trust me, lass,” he said softly. “Everythin’ will be well.”

“I hope so.”

She gave him a kiss on his grizzled, stubbly cheek and stepped back. Lorn offered her another smile then turned and walked away. Emmeline went the other way, heading through the largely empty corridors to her bedchamber, her mind and heart heavy and crackling with fear. Ever since she’d seen Burchard with those rough-looking men, she’d feared there was something bad in the offing. Lorn’s words only seemed to confirm it. War was a big concern for her. The death of so many innocent people it would cause sent a lance of pain through her heart.

But selfishly, with her power mad husband rampaging across Scotland with nobody to control him, Emmeline feared what would happen to her and Cecilia. But most of all, what he would do to Maddox. Once Burchard had Maddox’s fighting men under his control, he would have no need for Maddox himself. It was a truly paranoid thought but knowing her husband as she did, Emmeline knew she couldn’t dismiss it out of hand.

“Just friends, eh?”

Maddox’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts with a startle. She spun around to see him stepping out of an alcove she’d just walked by as if he’d been waiting for her. Anger and a pained sense of betrayal were written all over his face.

“What dae ye mean?” she asked.

“Ye and Lorn,” he said. “Ye told me ye were just friends.”

“We are.”

“Didnae look that way tae me. I saw ye two taegether.”

She frowned. “Are ye followin’ me?”

He shook his head. “I was walkin’ by and happened tae see that two of ye. And I have tae say, ye looked much closer than just friends tae me.”

As she gaped at him, her face warmed with the outrage bubbling in her veins. She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed Maddox with a firm glare of anger.

“What we are is none of yer business,” she said.

“Emmeline—”

“Nay,” she snapped. “We cannae keep doin’ this. ‘Tis nae good fer either of us. Now please, leave me be.”

Speaking the words, though she knew them to be necessary, tore at her heart and she had to struggle to keep the tears welling in her eyes from falling. Knowing it was a battle she was going to lose, Emmeline turned to go. But Maddox’s big hand clamped around her wrist and spun her around to face him, sending her heart into her throat.

“Wait,” he said. “Just… wait.”