Page 24 of Her Highlander’s Darkest Temptation (Highlanders of Cadney #14)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
B y the time Donall made his way down to the Great Hall the next day, the morning was half-gone, and the skies were a heavy, overcast gray that left his mood feeling as leaden as the clouds overhead.
He’d managed to gain another candle-mark or two of sleep, but he still felt exhausted and ready to curl up in the darkness of his bedchamber for a fortnight or so.
Lydia was waiting for him, a tray with his morning meal in her hands. Corvin was hovering nearby, his expression troubled. Donall sighed as he dropped into his chair. “What is it?”
“Me laird, Master Ewan an’ Laird MacEwen both left messages for ye.
Master Ewan is out ridin’ the boundaries with the scouts, hopin’ to gather more information.
An’ Laird MacEwen has departed to visit kinfolk as he is in the vicinity whilst staying with ye.
He asked me tae tell ye he will be gone fer a day or two, but then he will return. ”
Donall scowled. Ewan was on patrol, and Alexander was gone to speak with his kin. He realized Alex had his duties to attend to. It was hardly unexpected, and yet, in the face of the unknown threat on his borders, he missed the support of his closest friend.
“Laird MacEwen is gone?” Lydia’s soft question made Donall grit his teeth, biting back a snarl as jealousy stabbed him in the chest like a dagger.
He kept his answer short, his tone terse. “Aye. He’s visiting kin and may also have duties in his own lands - he’s a trader with business tae attend tae. He daesnae live here, nay matter how much ye might wish it.”
Lydia flushed, and Donall felt a bite of shame replace the burn of jealousy.
He had no reason to say such things, and well he knew it.
He half-hoped that Lydia would snap back at him, as Maisie might have if he’d made a similar comment about Ewan, but she only bowed her head and stepped away.
“Apologies my laird. I was simply curious.”
“Aye. Never ye mind.” Donall shook his head. “Bring me some tea - hot an’ strong, then go up tae me study. I’ll be trainin’ with the warriors this morn, an’ I want ye tae organize the documents on me desk while I’m daein’ tha’.”
“Aye, my laird.” She nodded, and Donall watched her as she turned and made her way gracefully back to the kitchens to collect his tea.
Before coming down, he’d gone to his study to make sure that all the information he’d gleaned about Clan Cameron’s movements - such as it was - was scattered among the other documents on his desk.
He knew every memo, every note and every message that was there, but he wanted to see what Lydia made of them - and if she did anything besides tidy them.
He’d seen her reaction to the mention of the Cameron soldiers, and he was convinced she knew something about their plans, but what it was continued to elude him.
Mayhap, with all the information there, she’ll dae somethin’. An’ if she’s a spy an’ tries tae remove or change anything, then I’ll ken. An’ if that’s the case… ‘twill give me some answers at least.
He finished his meal in unaccustomed silence, then made his way down to the courtyard.
The warriors were waiting, and Donall found a sword and began to lead the training drills.
Before long, his muscles were burning pleasantly, and sweat slid down his body.
After two candle-marks, he was weary, in a good way, and his mind was settled, falling into the weary contentment that often came with a good workout.
A bath made him feel more like himself and banished the last of the cobwebs and the gray fugue from his mind. Donall went to the kitchen to collect a snack from the cook, then made his way to the study.
Lydia’s touch was evident - the fire had been built up and his documents were sorted and neatly arranged in small stacks, including the information regarding Clan Cameron.
Donall leafed through the documents, but nothing was missing.
The only thing that he might consider odd was that the map marking the borders between his clan and Clan Cameron had been folded and placed at the bottom of the stack.
He couldn’t recall having folded the map earlier - and why would anyone hide a map in the bottom of a stack of reports?
If she was intelligent enough to read, surely she’d guessed the purpose of the map was to understand and track Clan Cameron’s movements against them…
didn’t it make more sense to leave the map on top, or open on a portion of the desk with the documents on top of it?
Why did she fold it away an’ bury it? Is she hopin’ tae hide something? Or did she just nae realize how I’d use it?
Donall considered that for a moment, adding it to the list of mysteries that surrounded his strange new maid, then settled in to do some work.
There were requisitions from Corvin to be reviewed and signed, so his steward could access the necessary funds, and reports from the council members regarding their individual areas of oversight.
There were requests from villages, and letters from other clans, including one from Marcus MacDougall, responding to his inquiry regarding Cameron Clan movements.
Donall opened the letter and frowned. According to Marcus, there were rumors regarding an alliance between Clan Cameron and an English lord, but no one seemed to know anything more than that there was something being planned.
The letter concluded by promising that Donall had only to ask, and the clans would rally behind him.
Hopefully I willnae need the aid. With any fortune, I will be able tae end matters on me own.
Still, I cannae deny I am grateful tae have the support - especially if Rory Cameron has English allies now.
Clan Cameron is far larger than Clan Ranald, but Clan Stewart or Clan MacLean can match them - an’ both taegether can provide a strong enough force to withstand any allies.
The sound of a guard calling an alarm pulled Donall from his paperwork. He frowned, then rose and went to the window as the gate opened to reveal Ewan, riding back through the gates. Even from where he stood, Donall could see his second-in-command’s shoulders were stiff. His stomach clenched.
Ewan met him at the doors to the Great Hall, his expression as grim as his posture. “Me laird.”
“Aye.” Donall studied his face. “Ye found somethin’?”
“Aye. Signs o’ riders - medium an’ large groups.
Signs on the border of single scouts an’ possibly larger raiding parties.
An’ while I was among the cliffs by the southeast watchtower, I saw two unfamiliar riders.
I tried tae approach them, but they disappeared intae the peat bogs an’ I couldnae trace them. ”
Donall grimaced. “Och, tha’s nae good.”
No one would enter the peat bogs unless they were familiar with the terrain and the safe paths through the swampy areas. Unfamiliar riders would likely be Cameron spies, but such familiarity indicated that they’d been spying on that area for a long time.
“What dae ye wish tae dae, me laird?”
Donall considered. Ewan was an intelligent man, but the two of them were often aware of different things. “Can ye show me where ye found signs, an’ where the riders disappeared?”
“Aye.” Ewan nodded.
“Then taemorrow, ye an’ I will ride out, an’ we’ll see if we can find any more information.” Donall took a deep breath. “I’ll see if I can track through the peat bogs – let us hope that the weather an’ the mists dinnae entirely obscure the paths an’ the trace.”
Ewan nodded. He started to say something else, but Maisie appeared, her eyes lighting up with happiness when she saw Ewan standing in the Hall. Ewan’s gaze softened with warmth.
Donall smiled to himself and stepped aside. “Get some rest, Ewan. We’ll leave taemorrow, so enjoy taenight, however suits ye best.”
Ewan hesitated. “Me laird…”
“Go have a bath an’ be with yer lass, Ewan.” Donall clapped his friend on the shoulder, then turned away and made his way back toward his office before his friend could say another word.
He was pleased that Ewan seemed to have found someone to share his life with - and that Maisie had apparently found a man worthy of her and had secured his attention and affections. He was glad to see his friends, and one of his closest confidantes, enjoying such happiness.
All the same, he couldn’t help the cold, tight feeling in his belly, and the thought that filled his mind and refused to be banished, no matter how hard he tried.
I wish I could find someone tae be with, someone I could trust with me heart an’ me life.
Lydia made her way through the corridors of Ranald Keep, her mind and emotions in a tangle that kept her from resting. She felt weary, but too restless, distressed, and confused to even consider sleeping. The sight she’d seen earlier that day still haunted her thoughts.
The map of Clan Ranald lands… including the red-inked border between Clan Cameron and Clan Ranald. That alone had been disquieting. But what had truly shaken her had been the carefully noted roads for trade routes, including the one the caravan had been following when it was attacked.
She’d never considered the road they’d taken, never thought it mattered.
But the map had showed three other routes that traveled between the border where she’d joined the caravan and the town that had been mentioned as their final destination.
The one they’d chosen was the only one to cross Ranald territory, but then, none of her companions on the road had arrived at the keep since her rescue.
Most likely, Ranald Keep had not been their final destination.
But in that case, why choose that route, when the one passing through the MacLean or Stewart lands would have been more direct, and perhaps safer?
There is something wrong. I do not know what it is, or understand what exactly it means, but even so… why take the route that would bring me closest to the very clan, and the very laird, I am trying to escape?