Scent of Scotland Page 9

  "Who are you and who paid you to do this?" McKenna demanded to know.

  The man glared at him and bit down on his teeth. His mouth filled with froth, and his eyes rolled back in his head. His body went limp in McKenna's hold. McKenna scowled and dropped the man onto the floor. Moray stepped around the bed as McKenna stood, and they both looked down at the body.

  "What killed him?" Moray asked his servant.

  "Silver in liquid form. Probably inserted into a fake tooth," McKenna guessed.

  "I see. Do you recognize him?" Moray wondered.

  McKenna shook his head. "No."

  "Dispose of the body and make inquiries," Moray commanded him. McKenna bowed, and the lord turned his attention to me. He walked over and grasped my arms. I shook like a leaf in a storm until he caught my gaze. "Are you all right?" he asked me.

  I managed a smile and nodded. "Yes, I think so."

  He returned the smile. "Good. Now how would you feel about a very late breakfast?"

  I blinked at him. "But your wounds. The attacker."

  "McKenna will manage our 'guest,' and the wounds are not as grievous as I would have you believe," he assured me.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned at him. "Then you lied to me? And to Mrs. Greer?"

  "It was necessary in order to draw out our foe," he explained. He glanced over his shoulder at McKenna. The retainer had the dead man slung over one shoulder and he carried him into the hidden passage. "Otherwise he may not have shown himself to us again until we were unprepared," he commented as the opening shut behind them.

  "So you had McKenna hide in the passage through the other room and wait for your signal?" I guessed.

  He turned to me with a smile. "Exactly that. A great many of the rooms in this older wing have hidden passages that connect them. When I whistled the noise temporarily stunned the intruder and McKenna sprung forth."

  I furrowed my brow. "But I heard nothing."

  Moray chuckled and brushed the back of his hand against my cheek. "That is because you are not a werewolf, but that-"

  "My dear Laird Moray!" a voice cried out. Lady Stewart swooped into the room and draped herself around his neck. She buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed into his shirt. "I only now awoke to hear of your frightening ordeal, and I thought for sure you had died!"

  He patted her back. "I am quite well again."

  She pulled them apart and looked him over. "But you are so pale!" She glanced past him at the window. "And what happened to the window?"

  "Merely some flour and an unwelcome gust," he assured her as he wiped some of the powder from his face.

  She frowned. "What could have induced you to cover yourself in flour? And how in the world could a gust break a window?"

  "The flour is an ancient art that only McKenna knows," he explained. "As for the window, I have yet to find an explanation."

  "I see. Well, I am glad you are well after such a harrowing ordeal." She turned around and glanced between the window and me. A smooth smile slipped onto her red lips. "After such a fright and with the storm gone I am sure you will be wanting to return home today. I could call my own carriage, if you wish."

  Behind her Moray stiffened and his face fell. I smiled and bowed to her.

  "That is very kind of you, Lady Stewart, but I will stay, at least for the present," I told them. My eyes flickered to Moray. "That is, if I am welcome."

  Moray's eyes shimmered and he bowed his head. "Always," he assured me.

  Lady Stewart glanced between us and her smile slipped away. "I see. Well, then shall we go down to supper."

  "I would prefer a breakfast. That is, if you ladies wouldn't mind," Moray suggested.

  I nodded. "That sounds wonderful."

  Lady Stewart shrugged. "I suppose."

  Moray offered me his arm. "Then shall we go?"

  I took the arm and smiled. "Gladly."

  Stewart snatched his other arm and glared at me from across his chest. "Yes, let's."

  We three left the room arm-in-arm, and I left behind me a part of me a part of my old life. At least for now.

  CHAPTER 18

  It was a fine wintry day that found me in my chambers. A warm fire crackled in the large hearth, and Mrs. Greer had just left my company to go about her other duties. I sat on the left side of my bed and sighed. The latest newest had been most depressing. It had been three days since the attack, and though there were no fresh attempts there were also no new answers.

  McKenna had disappeared from the house since the attack, and he had sent no word on the identity of the attacker. To make matters worse, Lady Stewart still remained with us at the castle.

  I looked down at my hands that lay palms-up in my lap and sighed again. "Is it wise for me to remain?" I whispered to myself.

  I lifted my eyes and stared at the new window that graced my bedroom. The attacker had made his first entrance through that window, and the second through a window in Moray's room. Both times I had been present. The indecision gnawed away at my thoughts, and I was little helped by the many hours of solitude of which I had in abundance. My fingers ached to sew, or at least be useful, and my legs yearned to walk the mud-covered streets of London.

  I started when something hit the new window. A patch of white snow was slapped onto the pane until most of the ball fell backwards to the ground below. I clutched my chest and flew to the glass. Below my window stood two small figures with their heads turned up at the glass. A smile slipped onto my lips as I swung open one half of the window and leaned out.

  "Good afternoon!" I called to them.

  "Good afternoon!" Heather replied.

  "Can you come down and play?" Adam shouted.

  I rested my arms on the sill and tilted my head to one side. "That would depend on what you want to play," I returned.

  "Snow fight!" he told me.

  "Is that like snowball fight?" I guessed.

  "Aye! That!" he confirmed. "Will you play?"

  "Oh please say yes!" Heather pleaded.

  "Very well, but wait a moment. I must get dressed," I told them.

  I pulled back into the room and firmly shut the window. My neglected cloak was snatched from its place on a back of a chair and I rushed downstairs. At the bottom I was met with a most disagreeable sight. McKenna strode into the entrance hall from the parlor. He was still suited in his traveling cloak and his boots were muddy as though from a long ride. The man smiled and bowed to me.

  "Good afternoon, my lady," he greeted me.

  I stiffly returned the compliment. "Good afternoon," I replied.

  "Have you no other greeting for your just-returned uncle?" he wondered.

  I stiffened and clenched the cloak tightly in my hands. "No, I do not," I retorted.

  He took a step closer to me and offered me his hand. "Perhaps that is to be expected when I have been away during so much of your visit. I have been told that I have neglected my niece by my laird, and though I have little time while I remain here, I wondered if you wouldn't like to join me for a carriage ride," he offered.

  "Even if I were your niece, I would enjoy no such thing with you," I snapped.

  I spun away from him and hurried down the corridor on the left of the stairs. My cloak billowed behind me as I flung it over my shoulders and rushed out into the freedom of the wintry afternoon. A few flakes floated from the sky and landed on my bare head.

  I clenched my hands at my sides and stomped my foot in the deep snow. "The audacity of that man!" I snapped. "He treats this as some sort of jest!"

  "Miss McKenna! Miss McKenna!" was the interruption to my brooding thoughts.

  I turned to my right and saw the smiling children run at me. Their arms were open, and they crashed into me so hard we all nearly toppled into a large snowdrift beside the doors. They looked up at me with bright smiles and ruddy cheeks.

  "What took you?" Adam scolded me.

  Heather glared at her brother. "She was very fast," she argued.

  He scowle
d at her. "She was not."

  "Yes, she was."

  "She was not."

  "Was."

  "Wasn't."

  "We will say I was as quick as I could be all things considering," I interrupted. "And please, call me Abby."

  "Abby's a pretty name. I bet your mother gave it to you," Heather commented.

  I smiled and nodded. "Yes, she did."

  Adam snorted into my cloak. "You speak funny."

  "It's because I'm from London," I explained.

  Their eyes grew wide and they glanced at one another.

  "London? Is it really as big as they say?" Heather asked me.

  "That would depend on how big they say it is," I pointed out.

  "Is it bigger than the castle?" Adam wondered.

  I laughed. "Much bigger."

  "What about the castle and the fields?" he persisted.

  "It's so big that it would swallow the fields, the forests, the house, and more than you can see," I told them.

  The pair looked at each other with their mouths agape.

  "And do pretty ladies drive around all day in their carriages?" Heather wondered.

  "I wouldn't know," I replied.

  Adam frowned and grabbed my hand. He gave it a big tug towards the north end of the courtyard. "Who cares about ladies. Let's have fun."

  Heather grasped my other hand and together we raced to the middle of the yard. I helped them build up tall, wide snow forts on either side of the field and we stacked large piles of snowballs in both forts. Heather tugged me towards her fort.

  "You get to be on my side," she told me.

  Adam jumped forward and grabbed my other arm. "Why do you get her?" he snapped at his sister.

  "Because she's a girl," she reminded him.

  "She's not a girl, she's a lady," a voice spoke up.

  We whipped our heads towards the house and saw that Lord Moray approached us. He had a sly smile on his face as he came to stand a few feet from we three.

  "Lord Moray!" the children cried out. They abandoned me and rushed to grab his hands.

  "You'll be on my side, won't you?" Adam pleaded.

  "Mother said you were hurt. Are you better now?" Heather asked him.

  "I'm well enough to keep my promise and enjoy a snowball fight," he assured them. He lifted his eyes to me and his smile widened. "That is, if the lady won't object."

  I smirked and folded my arms across my chest. "Only if the lord doesn't mind losing," I quipped.

  Adam looked between us and tilted his head to one side. "Are you two married? You sound like Mother and Father when Father has done something wrong," he told us.

  I blushed and shook my head. "Of course not!"

  The lord chuckled. "No, but the idea does have a pleasant ring to it."

  I turned to him and put my hands on my hips. "It does not!" I protested.

  Heather tugged on my sleeve. "Please may we play snow fight?" she pleaded.

  "If you get Abby then I get the laird!" Adam insisted.

  "That sounds fair enough," Moray agreed.

  I scowled at him. "That hardly sounds fair when you are stronger than all three of us put together."

  "Then shall I fight all three of you?" he suggested.

  "No! I don't want to be on a girl's side!" Adam yelled.

  "And I don't want to be on a stupid boy's side!" Heather agreed.

  We were tugged apart to our respective forts and readied ourselves with handfuls of snowballs. Moray stood above the top of their fort and bowed his head to us.

  "As we are gentlemen, we will give-" Splat. A well-aimed snowball from myself collided with his forehead.

  Heather and I laughed as the laird wiped the snow from his face. A sly smile graced his lips as he bowed again.

  "This means war, my ladies," he called.

  Thus began a barrage of snowballs that littered the area between the fields. Many of those from the children fell short or flew too far, but Moray and I were more experienced soldiers. We hit our marks more often than not, though I could never land another in his face. Our stocks were quickly depleted, and Adam tumbled over the front of his fort.

  "Charge!" he yelled.

  Moray followed Adam over the wall, and Heather did likewise. The children collided and wrestled on the snowball littered ground. My opponent was more than equal to me in strength, so I decided to try his speed. I stood and flew from the walls in the opposite direction of the forts. There came a crunch of feet behind me and in a moment arms wrapped themselves around me. I was lifted off the ground and swung in a full circle. Moray turned me in his arms so we faced each other and I was against his chest. My feet dangled a half foot off the ground, and I pressed my hands against him.

  "A forfeit for the loser," he teased.

  He caught my lips in a passionate kiss that incited a fresh warmth in me. I grasped his coat and groaned as lust grew inside me.

  "Yuck!" came a disapproving voice.

  We broke apart and turned to see the children staring at us. They both knelt in the snow, and Adam's tongue hung out.

  "That's disgusting," he commented.

  Heather put her hands on her hips in a shorter mimic of my earlier gesture and glared at him. "It's romantic," she argued.

  He stuck his face in hers. "Disgusting."

  "Romantic."

  "Disgusting."

  "Romantic."

  "That's enough arguing," the lord spoke up as he set me down.

  The pair broke apart and hung their heads. Adam scowled at his sister and stuck his tongue at her. She returned the favor and Moray chuckled. I, too, had a smile on my face until I heard a noise come up behind me. I stiffened and swung around, half-expecting to find another attacker. Swain trudged up to us, and the lord turned at his coming and raised an eyebrow.

  "What is it?" Moray questioned him.

  Swain bowed to his lord. "My laird, Laird Stewart has come and demands his lady return with him at once to their home. She refuses, and there is a great row between them in the grand hall."

  Moray pursed his lips. "I see. If you would all excuse me."

  He trudged past us and Swain followed him into the house.

  "Ah. Why'd they have to do that?" Adam whined.

  "Adults are so strange," Heather agreed.

  "Perhaps I will retire, as well," I told the children.

  "What? Why?" Adam asked me.

  Heather came to me and grasped the cuff of my sleeve. She looked up into my face and her eyes were filled with tears. "Don't you like us anymore?"

  I smiled and knelt down to lay my hands on her shoulders. "I promise we can play tomorrow. Would that be all right?"

  Her face brightened and she wagged her head. "Aye!"

  I stood and looked over to Adam. "All right. Then you call me with your snowball and I'll come running," I promised.

  He grinned and nodded. "Sure thing!"

  "Then until tomorrow," I told them.

  CHAPTER 19

  We exchanged farewells, and I strode into the house through the entrance hall doors. I expected the fighting to be finished, but the hall was filled with loud voices. One of them I recognized as belonging to Lady Stewart, and the male voice who enjoined hers could be none other than her husband, Lord Stewart.

  "And I tell you again, you are to come home with me!" the lord insisted.

  I stepped around the stairs and glimpsed Lady Stewart and her husband together in the center of the hall. The lord was thin and tall with a pencil mustache and a fine suit of clothes with a large, heavy overcoat. His age was around forty, and he held himself with an air of self-confidence. He held a black cane in his hand atop which was a wolf's head made from gold. A flamboyant hat graced his head which had a thin covering of hair. Off to the side stood Lord Moray who watched the proceedings with pursed lips. Swain stood just to his side and just behind him.

  "Do you listen to nothing I say? I have no desire to return at this time, and if you insist on arguing the point then perhaps I never s
hall wish to return!" Lady Stewart warned him.

  Lord Stewart grasped the cane tightly in his shaking hand and his face turned a grotesque shade of red. "My lady, I have been patient enough with your tantrums, but if you insist on forsaking your duties as my lady then I can assure you you will regret the consequences."

  "A moment, my laird," Moray spoke up. He stepped up between them and his presence forced the pair apart. "You speak in haste after a long and unpleasant journey. Perhaps you need only rest for a few days, and then the lady will see to returning with you."

  Lord Stewart straightened and furrowed his brow. "Perhaps you are right. The journey was quite miserable." He turned to his lady and bowed to her. "If you would pardon my harsh words, my lady."

  She curtsied to him, and beneath her bowed head I glimpsed her dark, hatred-filled eyes. "Ever your humble servant, my laird."

  Lord Stewart smiled and turned to Moray. "Now what do you say to a bottle of your fine wine and talk of these new young wolves who crowd the elections?"

  Moray smiled. "You forget my age," he returned.

  Stewart slapped Moray on the back and laughed. "Your blood hardly boils over like these young ruffians. I would call them wild animals against your calm demeanor."

  Moray steered the men towards the parlor. "Perhaps, but they are our future," he pointed out.

  Stewart shuddered. "Then God help us all."

  Moray paused and turned to Swain. "If you would, a bottle of the 1492."

  Swain bowed and hurried to obey. The men slipped into the parlor and the door shut behind them.

  Lady Stewart straightened and glared at the door. "What audacity!" she snapped. Her hands balled into fists at her sides and her body shook. "What an insufferable man!"

  I meant to sneak away and avoid the lady while she was in such a mood, but my movements caught her attention. She turned to me and regained her composure.

  "I'm so sorry, dear Abigail. I hadn't meant to frighten you away." She walked up to me and looped her arms through mine. "You know, you are the only one in whom I believe I can confide."

  I managed a shaky smile. "I'm flattered, my lady, but-"

  "No 'buts,' and nothing of my title. When we are forsaken and abused by the men then we ladies must remain together," she insisted as she led me towards the stairs. "But come. We have more important matters to discuss than politics."