Page 12

B efore Keira and Lesley returned to the castle, they headed to the village.

“So, ye will nae tell me?” Lesley asked as they made their way across the dirt paths leading to the various settlements in the village.

Keira decided to eschew the carriage this time around, as there was only so much she could take. She needed to think, and the best way to do that was on foot.

“Tell ye what?”

“Exactly what happened between ye and the Laird.”

Keira swallowed. She was not particularly ready to think about that again. Not ever, but particularly not now .

For now, she wanted to think about anything but the taste of Evander’s lips and the way he had gained control of her waking thoughts and desires. For now, she wanted to think about her servants and the best way to provide for them, not linger on frivolities like her first kiss and Evander’s chest.

Och! I’m doing it again.

“Ye keep stomping on the soil like that and we might just have an earthquake, M’Lady,” Lesley drawled.

Keira only huffed and tried to soften her footsteps. Her friend was right. She was thinking about this harder than she ought to.

Perhaps she should shove the thoughts somewhere in the back of her mind she would not be able to reach. Evander was a laird anyway; there was a great chance he was already married, and unless his wife was?—

Was she dead? Keira hadn’t seen her around. Maybe he was widowed.

Something about that thought made the corners of her lips quirk up for the briefest of moments.

Then, like flowers in the spring and a hot drought, her smile withered just as quickly. Evander may not be widowed. Maybe his wife was on the way with the rest of his people. He did mention that more of them were to arrive a few days later.

“Did he ask ye to leave the Great Hall for him? Did he want the chairs changed because he couldnae sit in the same place ye did?”

“Dinnae be ridiculous, Lesley.”

“Me mind will keep entertaining different scenarios if ye tell me nothing. Should I be afraid? Angry? I dinnae ken.”

Keira swallowed as they walked through a copse of trees and were temporarily shielded from the setting sun.

Now would be the time.

The fragmented rays of the setting sun danced across their faces as they walked, the thought echoing louder in Keira’s head.

She could tell Lesley all about the kiss now and seek her advice. They could both talk about it, and her friend would advise her on what to do and what not to do. And at the very least, she would not have to carry this burden with her anymore.

“I need to speak with Harold,” she ended up saying instead.

The decision had come like lightning to her—she would tell her friend, but not now.

“Who?” Lesley furrowed her brow.

“Me councilman.”

“Dinnae tell me we’re walking all the way there just to speak with him.”

“Aye. I need to tell him to help me with the investigation.”

“The investigation?”

“Aye, the one I’m currently conducting.”

“Ye’re secretly conducting an investigation.”

“That is what I just said, nay?”

“Why are ye conducting an investigation?”

“Because I think there’s foul play somewhere,” Keira explained.

They walked out of the woods and straight into a clearing where people bustled about, and the silence that had once surrounded them became something of the past.

The market was quite lively and surprisingly bursting with energy for this time of day, and she knew part of the reason was Evander.

Ever since his people had settled into the villages nearby—or at least the ones that were currently here—everywhere, especially the markets, had grown bigger.

Men nodded their heads in greeting, and women bobbed curtsies.

A fading flurry of M’Ladys floated past them as they walked, some they acknowledged and some they couldn’t.

“Foul play? What do ye mean foul play?”

“I think whoever burned his castle wanted him here. I called me councilmen separately and asked them if they sent the letter of surrender. They all said they didn’t. But someone had to have done it. Someone among them is the culprit. I just need to find the liar and hang him for it.”

“Ye dinnae mean?—”

“If necessary, ‘tis what I’ll do. That is why I have appointed Harold to help with the investigation.”

“Of all the people ye could have chosen, ye picked him?”

“He was Fletcher’s closest friend. He kens the ins and outs of the castle. He kens who hated Fletcher and who liked him,” Keira explained, her voice momentarily wavering as memories of the night she found her husband dead on the floor flashed through her mind. “He is the best person to pick.”

“If ye say so,” Lesley murmured.

Keira could sense the lack of enthusiasm in her friend’s voice, and she wanted to ask her why she was disappointed. But then she dismissed it as they waded deeper into the market.

“I have asked him to meet me here,” she added.

“Then I shall go see if some of me herbs are available,” Lesley responded. Before she could finish her words, she had disappeared.

Keira shook her head, confusion washing over her.

As the puzzle in her head continued to grow, her eyes landed on him. Harold was standing by the blacksmith, also looking around for her.

“Why do ye want us to meet at the market?” he had asked a few days back.

“’Tis more open,” Keira had explained. “If anyone sees me enter or leave yer house, they will immediately realize the purpose. If we’re seen in the market, anyone will think that we just ran into each other.”

Harold Jones.

His red beard and icy-blue eyes made him stand out like a beacon in a market like this. But soon, his eyes met hers, and she slowly approached him.

“I must say, M’Lady, yer suggestion about us meeting in the market was quite brilliant, after all.”

“I must say the same as well.” Keira smiled. “We need to talk.”

“Aye. I have been looking into some of the councilmen, ye ken—George and Lucas. I havenae discovered anything so far, but I am still scraping the surface. The two of them were the ones who wanted ye out the most after the former Laird died.”

Keira nodded. “And ye dinnae ken if they own other residences or anywhere else they can hide things?”

“Nae at the moment, but ye dinnae need to worry. I will find the culprit and do me best to protect ye like I always do.”

Harold took her hands and squeezed them gently, giving her a bright smile.

He was one of the very first men she had met when she got betrothed to Fletcher.

He had been incredibly welcoming and nice to her as well.

She remembered him telling her that he only became the man-at-arms to the former Laird at the age of nineteen and served him for fifteen years before he finally kicked the bucket.

He was not only one of her most trusted councilmen, but he was also one of the few people she counted on to protect her.

“I will always be on the lookout for ye,” he reassured her.

“Thank ye, Harold,” Keira murmured. They exchanged another smile, and she slowly slipped her hand from his. “I must make me way back to the castle. It’s getting dark, and I dinnae want to stumble through the night again.”

“Aye. I ken. Do ye need me to walk with ye?”

“Nay. Lesley is around here somewhere. I shall find her, and we will both make our way back to the castle. Ye dinnae need to worry.”

He nodded, and just as he had come, he slipped away and disappeared into the throng of people walking in and out of the market.

Keira sighed and let herself absorb the sounds around her for as long as she could. For now, she would try her best to remain as clueless as possible. The last thing she wanted was to terrify whoever was behind all of this and make it even harder to catch them.

She stepped away from the blacksmith’s stall and toward the herbs and roots section of the market. It did not take her long before she found Lesley. Her friend was haggling with a pale old woman about some root she could not name.

“Can ye believe the old crone wants to sell me this bunch of Tiberian root for twelve shillings? Twelve shillings?!” Lesley huffed once their eyes met.

“I suppose that is quite a high price?” Keira asked.

“High?! ‘Tis inhumane, is what it is.”

“For M’Lady…” the seller spoke up, her eyes darting between Keira and Lesley.

Keira recognized the look on the woman’s face. It was the same look every seller in the market had around her when they wanted to impress her. It was why she never came to the market to buy anything on her own.

“I will let it go for ten,” the old woman finished.

“Seven.” Lesley’s voice was sharp.

“Nine,” the woman countered, holding her gaze.

“Seven,” Lesley insisted.

“I cannae sell it for less than eight. I apologize.”

“I said se?—”

“Lesley!” Keira hissed.

Lesley swallowed and pulled out the coins in her pockets.

Soon, with the root tightly clutched in her hand, they both made their way out of the market and toward the castle.

“Ever since the Laird and his people arrived, things have become more expensive. I blame him and him alone,” Lesley muttered.

“Ye’re nae alone there,” Keira sighed.

As the sky darkened, they made their way through the woods they had come from and the path they had walked earlier, and very soon, they were both back in the castle.

“I shall put this put in some water,” Lesley announced and made her way to the apothecary.

Keira nodded and waved her off. Then, she heard it.

Loud digging sounds, like someone was using a pickaxe to dig into the ground.

Her eyes narrowed as she followed the sound to the Great Hall and the other side. That was when she found him .

Not only was he standing in the middle of the biggest mess she had seen in quite a while, but he was also drenched in sweat.

“What in God’s name are ye doing? Do ye want to destroy the castle as well?” she gasped, her eyes flicking to the stones scattered across the passageway.

“Nay. Ye’re quite welcome, by the way,” he responded, and then and only then, as he moved closer to her, did she see what he had been doing.

He had dug out all the stones one could trip over out of the ground.

Later when she retired to her room, her head throbbed as several thoughts bombarded her. He wanted to host a cèilidh and hoped she would find a husband. What if she didn’t? Worse, what if she couldn’t ?

As the sky turned a navy blue and the stars came out, Keira was still deep in thought, wondering what this could all possibly lead to.

What if she couldn’t find a husband because there was already a man she wanted?