Page 28 of Seduction in a Kilt (Temptation in Tartan #7)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
W hen he arrived outside Knox’s study a few minutes later, a servant greeted him. “The laird has called an emergency council meetin’, Sir. He asks that ye attend as soon as ye can.”
“Aye, thank ye.” Liam told him and headed along the hallway to the council chamber. The discussion was in full swing when he unobtrusively slipped inside and took a vacant seat near the top of the table, to Knox’s left. He immediately noticed Evander sitting next to Magnus on the other side of the table.
He noticed that the council members nearest to him were leaning away from the bizarre figure in the cloak and cloth mask and looking at him askance. He also saw that Evander’s cloak had fallen open, revealing that he had been disarmed.
“Ah, Liam, we’ve been waitin’ fer ye tae start. I want ye tae be here when we question this feller.” He jerked his chin at Evander. “But first things first. How’s the lassie? Is she badly hurt?” he added worriedly.
“She has a nasty gash in her arm, and she’s lost a bit of blood. But Effie says she’ll be fine,” Liam replied.
Knox breathed a sigh of obvious relief and shared a small smile with Magnus. “That’s good tae hear. How did that happen?”
Liam briefly explained how he, Ivy, and Evander had come to be at the chapel in the first place. “Then some of Gael’s men turned up.” He paused to give Evander a dark glance. “And we ended up havin’ tae fight our way out.”
Knox must have caught the look, for he asked, “When ye say we had tae fight d’ye include him in that? I’m just wonderin’ why he’s nae in chains right now as a possible MacAlister spy.”
“I’m wonderin’ that mesel’, and I’m hopin’ I’m nae makin’ a big mistake by bringin’ him before ye,” Liam admitted. “But Ivy seems tae trust him, and when he asked for sanctuary here, she persuaded me to bring him back. He did fight alongside us and helped tae stop Ivy from bein’ abducted. That’s the only reason he’s sittin’ here and nae locked up.”
Knox now looked at Evander with fresh curiosity, as did everyone in the room. “What’s the cloak and mask in aid of then?” Knox asked the stranger tersely. “Are ye a leper or is yer face disfigured in some way?”
A sigh came from beneath the mask. Evander began to stand up. Immediately, Liam, Knox, and Magnus visibly tensed, and their hands flew to their sword hilts.
Evander raised his palms in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I mean nae harm. I’m here tae help. I’m just going tae take off the mask, all right?” he said. Liam stared at Evander as the man pulled off his hat.
What had caught Liam’s ear was that there was an edge of a strange accent to it which Liam did not recognize. He had not previously noticed it. But he realized that Evander, or whoever he was, was an Outlander.
Evander had dropped his hat to the floor. His hair was fair and straight, and it lay close to his head, flattened by the hat. He shrugged out of the cloak. Beneath it he was wearing unremarkable clothing, a padded leather coat and trews. He was tall and rangy. He looked strong, but considering his considerable fighting skills, Liam was somewhat surprised to see he lacked the well-developed muscles of a warrior.
Another thing he noticed was that Evander sported no clan tattoos. This was another clue that Evander was not originally a Highlander. Liam’s curiosity and suspicions rose.
A tense silence reined in the chamber as Evander reached behind his head to unfasten the ties of the filthy fabric mask covering his face. When it came away, revealing his actual face, he ran a scarred hand through his hair. It stood out from his head, blond and spiky, already receding from his brow.
He stood before them, letting them take him in. “Now, ye see me for who I am,” he said in his strange accent, a mixture of Scots and something foreign.
There was silence for a few moments as everyone stared at him.
Liam saw man in his mid-forties, he thought. His face was somewhat gaunt, with high cheekbones, hollow cheeks, and a high forehead. His complexion was fair and slightly florid, his chin covered with light-brown stubble. But it was his eyes that caught attention. They were large and a very light gray, and they shone almost silver in the candlelit chamber.
Knox broke the silence by flapping a hand at him and saying, “All right, ye can sit down now.”
“Thank ye,” Evander said with a small nod, resuming his seat. Liam was amazed that he appeared quite at ease and completely uncowed by what he must have known was a precarious the situation for him. He could just as easily been languishing in the castle dungeons by now, or have had his head lopped from his shoulders, as be sitting here in the council chamber before the laird.
Yet the man seemed at ease, with not so much as a bead of sweat on his forehead. Liam instinctively sensed they were dealing with someone used to dissembling and quickly adapting to situation. Someone who would make the perfect spy.
In short, Evander was a cool customer, resilient, intelligent, and wily, and as far as he was concerned, as slippery as the proverbial eel.
“All right, tell us who ye are and why ye’re here askin’ fer sanctuary,” Knox said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his steepled fingers.
“He’s nae a Scot,” Liam said darkly.
Evander shot him an unreadable glance, then he nodded. “Aye, that is true. I wasnae born a Scot. I was born in Utrecht, in Holland. But I’ve been here many years now. I count mesel’ an honorary Scotsman now.”
Knox nodded. “That’s as maybe. So what have ye been doin’ since ye’ve been here, Dutchman?” There was an implied insult in his tone which told Evander that he could have lived in the Highlands for a thousand years, but he would never be considered a Scotsman.
“Until not very long ago, I was in the employ of Carson MacAlister.”
A low rumble of disapproval rippled around the table from the councilors. Liam leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and folding his arms, settling in to hear the man’s story—fable or lies, he expected.
“When I came tae Scotland many years ago, I arrived at Castle MacAlister with a formal introduction by mutual friends in Utrecht. The former laird, Laird Carson’s father, welcomed me warmly and we became fast friends. I ended up living at the castle and serving as an advisor. In the months afore his death, he often confided in me, worrying about his son’s selfishness and greed fer power. He feared he would not make a good laird fer his clan. When he and the lady were killed, I stayed on as an advisor to the new laird until recently, hoping tae be of use, given the former laird’s worries. Needless tae say, he rarely listened tae me advice.
“Then, one night, I overheard a conversation between him and Gael talking about how their plans were finally coming tae fruition now that the latter would marry Lady Ivy. They laughed at having succeeded in getting rid of Carson’s parents without anyone finding out.
“As I listened, and kenning the laird well, I realized that Carson probably had further plans to kill Gael and get all of his land through his widowed sister. I knew him well enough tae ken he daes naething out of the kindness of his heart. If he had kept her alive and was allowing Gael to marry her, it was certainly nae out of friendship. It was all about power. That is when I decided tae leave and seek out Lady Ivy, tae try tae save her.”
In the lull that followed, Liam could almost hear the gears turning in the council’s collective mind as they took all this in.
After a few minutes, Knox stood up and said to Evander, “We’ll think about what ye’ve told us, and of course, we’ll have more questions fer ye. But right now, we need tae discuss this without ye. I’m sure ye’ll understand if we keep ye under lock and key while ye wait.”
Evander bowed his head. The two guards outside in the hallway were summoned. “Find him a comfortable chamber. Give him what he wants, but make sure he’s locked up securely,” Knox instructed them.
When Evander had been taken away, the discussion resumed. Knox looked around at everyone, his glance finally coming to rest on Liam. “Well,” he said, “’tis a very plausible story, but does anyone trust this man?”
“I’m findin’ it hard nae tae be suspicious, but if I’m playin’ devil’s advocate, I havetae ask mesel’, has he really done anythin’ tae warrant that we should treat him as a possible spy?” Magnus said.
“Aye, all he’s done so far is throw some light on Ivy’s past that, if true could, enable us tae eliminate Carson and Hamilton once and fer all,” one of the military advisors put in. Several other councilors nodded their agreement.
“Liam, what are yer thoughts on the matter?” Knox asked.
“Well, as I’ve already said, I trust him about as far as I can throw him. But Magnus is right, so far at least. And Ivy wants him treated well. I suggest we dae some checkin’ up on Evander’s story and see what comes up. Until we can decide if he’s friend or foe, treat him as a guest, but have him watched. If he is a spy, he’ll slip up soon enough.”
“Aye, I think that’s a good plan. Let’s make him welcome but keep a close eye on him,” Knox announced. “Any more anyone hastae say, or can we call this meetin’ closed?”
No one did, so the meeting broke up. After making his farewells, Liam hurried out of the room, eager to check on Ivy. In the vestibule he asked a servant to have bath water brought up to Ivy’s chamber. He knew he needed a hot bath after the earlier battle, to soak away his aches and pains from the fight, and he suspected Ivy would too.
He entered his chamber, kicked off his boots, peeled off his socks, took off jacket and padded vest, and set aside his sword belt. In his shirt and trews, he padded over to the connecting door. It was slightly ajar, and he opened it a little further. Ivy was in bed, half sitting up, propped up by pillows, her hair spread out around her, and her bandaged arm resting on top of the covers. She must have heard him because she looked over. It alarmed him to notice that her gaze was disturbingly blank, almost trance-like.
Concerned by her subdued demeanor, he stepped over the threshold and went to the side of the bed, examining her critically. “Hello, how are ye feelin’?”
She seemed to come out of her reverie with a start, as though she had only juts noticed him. “Liam, he almost got me,” she said in a low voice, reaching out for his hand and clutching it tightly. “If nae fer ye and Evander, he would have succeeded.” She visibly shuddered, and he felt it run up his arm.
There was no need to ask whom she meant. He quickly realized she was suffering from delayed shock. He had seen it before, in soldiers after a battle. Despite her earlier protestations that she was fine in the infirmary, the import of what had happened at the chapel had finally hit her.
It was imperative, he knew, to make her feel safe again. Even if he knew he could not protect her, he wanted to give her comfort. He knelt by the bed, took her into his arms and cuddled her, stroking her hair, whispering, “’Tis all over now, Ivy. Ye’re safe.” It tore at his heart when she burst into tears and sobbed against him.
“I was so afraid, Liam. I really thought it was the end, that they were gonnae take me back tae Gael,” she murmured through her tears, her whole body shaking. “I’d rather die.”