Page 60 of Claimed Highland Brides

15

SNEAK ATTACK

D iego ran up to his brother’s chambers, all the while keeping an eye for further attacks. He jumped as a wailing sound rent the air around him, like a warning klaxon. It seemed someone had finally sounded the alarm.

He ran into Antonio in the corridors, and his brother clutched his arm, his look urgent. “Are you fine? I went to your chambers and did not find you.”

“Intruders,” Diego whispered.

Antonio’s eyes widened in alarm. “Where?”

“I left two of them passed out in the little girl’s chambers. I believe they were trying to abduct or interfere with her in some way.”

Antonio gasped. “You mean...”

“Si.” Diego grabbed his hand. “Do you have any weapons?”

Antonio showed him the hand that had been behind his back; in it was a knife. Diego nodded. “Anything else?”

The other hand emerged from which was dangling a claymore sword. Diego laughed with delight. “Bueno.” He held out his hand for a weapon, and Antonio slapped the knife into it.

“Lead the way,” he murmured.

Diego turned around and showed his brother the way down. Guards were milling all around, along the stairs and outside the sisters’ rooms. They ran into Delwyn, gesticulating in the courtyard as he spoke to a few guards.

“What is happening? Are we under attack?”

Delwyn turned to face them. “No, it is more of an incursion. Five men climbed over the wall on the west side, where we were conducting some repairs. They managed to get in, but”—he gestured towards Diego—“I understand you subdued two of them yourself.”

Diego nodded. “Yes, I ran into two of them on the stairs headed towards your sister-in-law’s chambers.”

Delwyn grasped his arm and squeezed. “I thank you on behalf of the family for your help.”

“It was no trouble. Do you know why they were attempting to do that?”

“We shall subject them to questioning presently, but for the moment, we do not know.”

Diego nodded his understanding.

“Delwyn?” A shout from behind them had them all turning, weapons rising only to see Jamesina waddling towards them, a look of fear on her face.

“Jamesina!” Delwyn hurried towards her, grasping her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Did ye catch them? Is everything alrigh’?”

Delwyn flicked a glance at Diego. “We caught the two that tried to attack ùna, and there were three more. The guards are still searching the keep.”

“How did they get in?” Jamesina’s voice was high and breathless.

“Breach in the north wall where the stampede happened. We are filling it up as we speak.”

Jamesina sighed. “Who sent them?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“We should question the prisoners as soon as possible in order to establish how many there are,” Diego said.

Delwyn nodded. “I agree.” He turned to Jamesina, grasping her arms. “Please go and wait with your sisters. I will come by and give a report.”

Jamesina nodded. “Be careful, please.”

“Always, my love.”

Delwyn beckoned to Diego and Antonio to follow him, leading them down to the dungeons where they had the two men corralled. One of them was growling and struggling, pulling at his shackles. The other was lying listlessly on the floor.

Diego pointed to the prone one. “We should begin with him.”

Delwyn nodded. “I agree.”

He extracted a large bunch of keys from his chest and got the door to their cell open. The loud one tried to rush him but was brought up short by the shackles while the other still lay unmoving.

Delwyn kicked him over, so he was lying face-up. “Are you ready to talk?”

The man’s eyes slid towards him and then away again. He didn’t say a word.

“Guard!” Delwyn shouted, and two men appeared at once at the door of the cell. “Take him.” He pointed down at the man, and one of the guards came forward, unlocked the chain that held his shackles to an anchor on the floor, and pulled him up. He pushed the prisoner towards the door, without any regard to his bound feet. The man stumbled and almost fell, but the guard pulled him upright by the chain.

The prisoner uttered a pained sound but was roundly ignored as the guards propelled him forward, towards the questioning room at the end of the corridor. It was made of pure stone, with just one small window embedded in the door. There was a large stone table inside, fitted with another anchor to which the guards locked the shackles. Diego, Antonio, and Delwyn entered the room, each taking a stool and sitting around the table. The guards stood by the door as the prisoner dropped into a stool opposite them.

Delwyn leaned forward. “Who sent you?”

The man sneered at him. “Why should I tell ye tha’?”

“We will let you go if you do.”

Diego raised an eyebrow at Delwyn, not at all sure that that would be a wise decision.

The prisoner’s lip curled. “Why should I believe a Sassenach?”

“You don’t have to believe me. Just do as I say. If you don’t, I assure you that you will regret it.”

Diego uttered a sound of impatience at the man’s continued silence. He strode around the table and took the man by the neck, pressing down on his carotid. “You’ll tell us now, or I shall choke the life out of you. Which is it to be?”

The man’s eyes bugged out of his head as he stared imploringly at Delwyn. The laird’s steward looked impassively back, studying his nails after a moment. “You’d best do as you’re told before you die,” he murmured impassively.

“Fine, I’ll tell,” the prisoner rasped, and Diego let him go. He coughed hard, phlegm flying out of his mouth, body bent double, shuddering with the force of his expectorations.

“Well, go on then.” Delwyn leaned over him impatiently.

“I-I-It was Gilroy MacFarland that sent us.”

“And what was your mission?”

“To gather hostages for negotiation.”

Delwyn straightened up, looking from Diego to Antonio in shock. He turned back to the prisoner. “You mean to tell me you were trying to abduct my youngest sister-in-law?”

“Aye.”

Delwyn growled, pulling his fist back, ready to strike the prisoner. Diego wrapped a hand around his wrist, restraining him. “That won’t help.”

He turned to the prisoner. “Why does Gilroy need hostages?”

The prisoner shrugged. “We are hired hands. We do as we’re told. We dinnae ken wha’ the master wants to negotiate for. ’Tis no’ our business.”

Diego sighed, shaking his head. He looked at his brother and Delwyn. “In any case, we can guess what the man is after. He obviously means either to turn the Douglass family against Barclay or use the girl as a bargaining chip to make Barclay go away.”

“But they didn’t get the girl,” Delwyn pointed out.

“Indeed.” Diego bit his lip thoughtfully. “Still, you’d best let your laird and Barclay know what has transpired here today.”

Delwyn nodded. “I shall send a messenger.”

“What if the man means to attack them there as well?” Diego’s brow furrowed with worry.

Delwyn shook his head. “From what I know of this witch, Aifric, she would not allow such a thing.”

“You are sure of this?”

Delwyn nodded. “Absolutely. I think they are as safe as they can possibly be.”

“Send the messenger then.”

* * *

Aileen came awake, bathed in momentary confusion as to where she was. Then she remembered that they were in Drumacree for a meeting. She sat up, her eyes on Barclay, who lay fast asleep beside her, his chest gleaming with sweat. It was quite warm in the chamber, with the closed window and the merrily burning fire in the grate. He had thrown off the blankets and so lay sprawled before her in all his naked splendor.

The sheer immediacy of his presence was something she still had to get used to. He changed the atmosphere of her sleeping space with his earthier musk, the rhythm of his breathing, his sheer presence, difficult to ignore as he seemed to dominate every single sense she had. Tentatively, she reached out and ran a finger down the deep line of his spine.

His muscles were so defined, his skin darker than her own—probably because he spent a lot more time in the sun than she did. His skin was both softer and tougher than it looked. She traced patterns into his skin, learning the feel of him, reveling in his nearness.

He grunted in his sleep, twitching as if he was a horse trying to dislodge a fly. She grinned at the analogy but withdrew her hand and gingerly slipped her foot out of the security of the blankets. Aifric had urged them to take advantage of her hospitality rather than return to the inn where Gilroy was staying.

Aileen had thought it altogether wise to do as she asked.

A cauldron of water was boiling in the fireplace, making her wonder if someone had brought it in while they slept. With a shrug, she picked up the jug and scooped out some hot water for her morning ablutions.

A tentative knock on the door had her straightening up, wondering who might be looking for them so early. The sun was barely lightening the sky. She did not hear Barclay stir, so she put down the jug and went to answer the door herself.

She eased the door open and stared out in surprise, not having expected to see Daividh standing there, fully dressed. “Where is yer husband?” he asked sotto voce.

She widened the opening to allow him to enter and turned to find Barclay sitting up in bed, blinking blearily at them.

“I’ve had word from th’ keep,” Daividh began without preamble, speaking to them both, “Gilroy sent men to attack us. They almost abducted ùna, but yer cousin got in the way.” He gestured to Barclay with a slight smile.

Barclay let out a breath and shook his head. “So what now? Shall we confront him?”

Daividh shook his head. “I cannae speak for ye, but I feel that we should go home.”

Barclay nodded. “I ken. But he wilnae just go awa’ unless I give up my claim. So why do ye no’ take the women home and I shall confront him.”

Aileen stepped between them with an exclamation. “No! I’m yer wife, Barclay Macfarland. I shall stay wi’ ye.”

Both men eyed her as if trying to gauge her seriousness.

“Aile—” Daividh began to say.

“No!” She turned to glare at him. “I’m staying wi’ Barclay.”

Daividh sighed, shaking his head as he cast Barclay a look as if to say, Talk to yer wife. Barclay smiled. “Vera weel. We shall go and talk to him.”

Daividh’s shoulders slumped as if in defeat. “We cannae let ye do this on yer own. Fee and I will stay too.”

Barclay got out of bed and nodded to Daividh. “We thank ‘e.”

He grabbed his tunic and pulled it on even as Daividh opened the door to leave. He paused with his hand on the knob. “We mun’ be prepared for anything, ye ken.”

“Aye.” Barclay straightened his tunic and reached for his breeches. Aileen sighed and went to the wardrobe to fetch her gown.

* * *

“Ye shalnae go to the inn when I can summon Gilroy here,” Aifric protested. “’Tis no’ safe for ye. He has nay honor, that man.”

“Then why are we negotiating wi’ him?” Barclay asked, incredulous.

Aifric eyed him for a while. “Because ye have some honor.”

Barclay sighed, turning away from her in disgust. “Fine. Please summon him.”

Aifric smiled. “I already have.”

They did not have long to wait before Gilroy burst into the parlor, looking rather annoyed. “Why have ye summoned me so early? I havenae yet received word from my faither.”

“That isnae what we wish to speak aboot.” Barclay glared at him. “Have a seat.”