Dangerous Pride (53 page)

“It does no’ say Leslie has her,” the Baron said as he set the letter on the table.

“It could be no one else.  The lass poses a threat to no one, no’ even Leslie.  He’ll be using her to get to me.”

“This message was sent yesterday.  It’s possible they have heard more from the lass’s captor by now.”

“I do no’ think so,” Lachlan said, shaking his head.  “It would be more like that bastard to want to leave me guessing.  There will no’ be any demands from him.  He’ll merely lay the trap, and sit back to see what he catches.”

“You’ll solve naught by staying here, lad,” the Baron stated firmly, pushing himself to his feet.  “If you leave now, and you ride hard, you can be at Tolquhon early on the morrow. Take as many of my men with you as you need.  I would ride with you myself, but I think it would serve better if I were to stay here with the Duke.”

Lachlan nodded his agreement, his expression grim as he pulled his uncle into an affectionate hug.  Though he knew his men would do their best to find Catriona, he couldn’t waste a moment hurrying to his wife’s defense.  Not if he wanted to maintain his sanity.

“Do no’ let us down, Lachlan,” the Baron said, his voice thick with emotion.  “If you let aught happen to her, you’ll have me to answer to.”

“You ken I will no’ return without her,” Lachlan replied, his body rigid with determination as he turned and began shouting orders to his men to break camp.

As he watched his nephew hurry across the yard, John Forbes could only pray that the young laird’s efforts would meet with success.  There were many more lives than just the lass’ hanging in the balance.

“You let her leave the keep with only one man?” Lachlan bellowed as the warrior stood, cringing, in front of him.  “What in the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, springing forward to grab the man.  Rory quickly jumped to stand between the two men before any damage could be done.  Knowing his laird was nearly overcome with worry for his wife, Rory had been making every effort to diffuse the effects of Lachlan’s temper since he’d returned from the Baron’s camp.

“Back down,” he hissed firmly in Lachlan’s ear.  “It will no’ do the lass any good if ye lose yer temper, nor will it inspire much loyalty in yer men.”  Lachlan stared at the young man who stood before him for a long moment before he finally nodded at his friend and stepped back.  Rory motioned for the warrior to leave the room, and with a look of gratitude, he bid a hasty retreat.  The entire keep had been in a state of upheaval since Catriona had gone missing, and no one had been safe from the laird’s temper since he had returned.

The only thing that had kept Lachlan from leaving the keep immediately was the fact that Iain had still not returned from the latest scouting mission.  So far his men had uncovered no information of note.  Catriona had left the keep for an afternoon ride in the company of one guard, and neither had been seen since.  As frustrated as he was at their lack of success, Lachlan was even more angry at himself for having left Catriona behind without ample protection.

“I do no’ want to hear another word if it is no’ good news,” Lachlan spat out heatedly, shooting Rory a menacing look.  “That yer men canna manage to keep one wee lass safe is an insult to us all.”

Rory refused to rise to the bait, recognizing that his friend’s temper was born of fear for his wife.  Everyone in the keep had turned the place upside down, searching for any clue of Catriona’s whereabouts since the moment she had been discovered missing.  The clan’s best trackers had been working around the clock, and were practically asleep on their feet.  As soon as the latest party returned to the keep, they would be questioned, and then Rory and Lachlan would leave with fresh men and supplies.  If the lass was alive, they would find her.

Grabbing the young laird by the arm, Rory shot him a stern look.  “Before ye have the men lookin’ for a new laird tae serve, ye’d do well tae reign in yer temper.  There’s naught we can do that we are no’ already doin’.  I ken yer sick about the lass, but that will no’ help find her, Lachlan.  Let’s use this time tae get something tae eat.  Who kens when we will next see a warm meal?”

Lachlan allowed Rory to steer him out of his study, and into the hall.  He barely noticed the food that was set in front of him, his thoughts dominated by visions of revenge.  Though he remembered eating nothing, he eventually noticed that the plate before him was empty.  At some point, Rory had slipped away from the table, probably to check on preparations for their departure.  None of the other men in the hall would meet his eye, Lachlan noticed, as his glance absently trailed across the room.  Whether their unease was born of fear for his temper, or guilt at the capture of his wife, he didn’t know.

With a weary sigh, Lachlan pushed himself to his feet,  walking down the hall toward the inner bailey.  He wanted to be present the moment Iain arrived, so they wouldn’t waste any precious time before resuming the search.

As Lachlan walked outside the kitchens, he was aware of a muffled noise coming from the supply room that adjoined the bakehouse.  The noise grew louder as he approached, and he saw the door was slightly ajar.  Though he had no time to waste, the sounds were so pitiful that he could not ignore them.

The room was dark and cold, the only light being cast from the hall as Lachlan slowly pushed the door open.  Gradually the shape of a small child became visible, and when the boy turned to see who had interrupted him, Lachlan could make out Niall’s childish features.  Embarrassed to be caught crying by his laird, Niall quickly jumped to his feet, drawing a filthy sleeve across his face to wipe away the tears.  As focused as he was on Catriona’s rescue, Lachlan’s heart went out to the boy.

“I’m sure it is no’ as bad as all that,” Lachlan said kindly, leaning over to tousle the young boy’s dark hair.  “Do you think it might help to talk about it?” he prodded gently, hoping to relieve the lad’s distress but with all due haste.

The boy’s dark grey eyes scanned Lachlan’s face thoughtfully.  The youngster was clearly torn between a desire to unburden himself and the need to appear strong in front of his laird.  Lachlan watched the battle quietly for several long moments before the lad’s fears won out over his pride.  “It’s me mither, laird,” Niall said finally, as Lachlan crouched before him, balancing his weight on his heels.  “She left, and I do no’ ken if I will e’er see her agin.”

“Fiona has left the keep?” Lachlan repeated, his expression confused.  “You do no’ think she’s been taken, do ye?”

The lad shook his head, struggling to fight back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.  “No, laird.  She left yesterday with some men I did no’ recognize.  She said I could no’ go with her, for ‘twas too dangerous.” Niall stood taller, obviously insulted by his mother’s lack of faith in his abilities.  “I coulda helped her, ye ken, but she would no’ listen.  Instead she left me here with me Gran.”

“These men yer mother left with, did you recognize them, lad?” Lachlan asked quietly.  Though he was doing his best not to upset the lad any further, he could not dismiss the concern he felt about the timing of Fiona’s departure.  The lass had long been a troublemaker – and there were few who would miss her, truth be told – but the circumstances and timing of her leave-taking were too suspicious to be ignored.

“Aye.  They were no’ kinsmen, but they have been here afore.  Me mither would see them sometimes when we went tae visit me Auntie Caroline.  They were nice tae me most times, except the one man with the fiery hair.  Me mither always said tae be careful  I did no’ anger him overmuch.”

Cold fear shot through Lachlan as the pieces of the puzzle gradually fell into place.  The red-haired, evil-tempered man Niall described was in all likelihood Calum Leslie.  Given Fiona’s contentious history within the clan, it wasn’t too hard to imagine her turning her back on her kinsmen and aligning herself with a man like Leslie.  Whether he offered her coin or the promise of power and a brighter future, the cold bitch would like as not jump at any chance to better herself.  Not only was she unfeeling enough to desert her son, but she had enough freedom and access within the castle that she could learn a great deal.  Fiona would be a valuable spy – and could cause a great deal of  damage, if she chose to sell what she had learned to someone like Leslie.

“Did yer mother say aught else to you when she left, lad?  It’s verra important you remember everything she told you.”

The boy’s dark brows were furrowed in concentration as he considered Lachlan’s request.  He didn’t understand why the laird was so interested in his mother’s departure, but he had no intention of disappointing the man.  “Me mither said naught about where she was going, but one of the men said something about the Red Well.  I do no’ ken if that is important.  I just ken I wished I could be goin’ with them,” Niall added, fresh tears falling down his grimy, pale cheeks.

The little boy’s anguish tore fresh wounds in Lachlan’s heart.  Without thinking, he opened his arms to the boy, who gratefully rushed into his warm embrace.  “Do no’ fash yerself, laddie,” he whispered into Niall’s hair as the young boy cried fresh tears into the collar of his shirt.  “I’ll keep you safe.”  A fresh flood of tears was the only response to Lachlan’s promise.  “It’s all right, Niall.  You’ll ne’er be alone again.”

###

As soon as the lad had sufficiently calmed himself, Lachlan gently handed him over to the care of one of the kitchen lasses.  Once the lad was settled with a mug of milk and some fresh tarts, he had quietly explained the situation to Mairi.  The cook had believed her daughter was visiting a friend in a nearby village for a brief spell, and her disappointment in her daughter was great. “Truth be told, Fiona ne’er did care overmuch for the lad,” she said, looking fondly at Niall as he ate his fill on the other side of the kitchen.  Her pale blue eyes filled with tears, but she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand.  “He’s always been more like my son than hers.  Ye do no’ need tae worry.  He’ll no’ want for a thing as long as I draw breath.”

Having questioned Mairi briefly about her daughter’s activities, he was more convinced than ever that Fiona had been involved in Catriona’s disappearance.  Her behavior in recent weeks had been erratic and volatile, and gave every indication that the lass had been hiding something.

It was flimsy evidence at best, but it was all he had to cling to, Lachlan decided as he made his way through the castle to the yard.  None of his men had been able to uncover any leads as to Catriona’s whereabouts, and in the absence of any word from her captors, he had little choice but to explore this lead, no matter how insubstantial it might be.

Lachlan was deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the clansmen who steered clear of him as he stomped his way to the stables.  He’d already wasted several hours at Tolquhon, and he wasn’t prepared to fritter away any more precious time.  Fiona might not be the key to Catriona’s disappearance, but for now it was the only lead he had.

Rory was helping load a pair of horses with supplies as Lachlan pushed his way into the stables.  Wiping the dust from his hands, the older man steeled himself for the verbal assault he was sure would be directed his way.  “We will leave within the next quarter hour, with or without Iain,” Lachlan stated flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.  “It seems Fiona  left Tolquhon for good, but before she did, she was seen with men who may well be Leslie’s.  If we canna track Catriona, then we track Fiona, for I believe both trails lead to the same place.”

Rory had begun to pepper Lachlan with questions about Fiona’s involvement when they were both distracted by a commotion from near the gate.  The sounds of men’s raised voices could be heard, but the speakers were too far away to make out the words.  “Iain,” Rory decided as he listened to the grating of the metal portcullis as it was raised to allow entrance to the inner bailey.  “It would seem yer brother-by-marriage is no’ gonna keep ye waitin’ much longer.”

Together the two men left the stables, making their way toward the gate at a slow run.  They had barely rounded the corner when they saw Iain charging toward them, his horse heaving and lathered with foam.  Stopping sharply in from of the men, Iain slid off the back of his horse, his exhaustion almost equal to the animal’s.  His face was grimy with sweat and dirt, though his tone was firm as he tossed the horse’s reins to the stable hand who rushed forward to serve him.  “See that he is watered and rubbed down immediately, lad, and you’ll be rewarded for the effort,” he said as he reached back to grab a wineskin from his saddle.

The two friends clasped each other’s arms in greeting. Whatever anger Lachlan had felt at the men’s inability to track his wife disappeared when he saw her brother’s fear and fatigue.  Iain took a long drink from the wineskin before he began to speak.  “We did no’ have any luck tracking her until early this morning.  We would pick up bits and pieces of a trail, but then the bastards would double back through a burn, or wipe away any trace of the route they were taking. There’s little doubt they fear being followed, for they avoid any well-traveled paths, and are careful to leave little evidence of their passing.  They are good,” Iain said, a hint of amusement in his eyes, “but we are better.  We found a campsite near Red Well that we are sure they used last night.  I think they believed they’d lost us, and then relaxed their guard, for the trail from Red Well is clear enough.  I have left men there to follow it as closely as they can, and I came back to fetch you myself.”

The clues were falling into place.  For the first time in a long while, Lachlan allowed himself to feel hopeful.  “How many men are with her?” he demanded, anxious to resume the hunt.

“As near as we can guess, there were only two men and a woman for the first day or so, but they added to their party quickly.  At Red Well, they were joined by even more – a woman, we think, and another handful of men.  They are headed southwest, but we do no’ have any idea of their destination.  The path they are taking is no’ direct.”

Quickly, Lachlan explained what Niall had told him, and how it corroborated what Iain and his men had deduced as they’d followed Catriona’s trail.  After extracting a promise from Iain that he would rest a spell at Tolquhon before resuming the hunt, Lachlan and his men raced from the keep, anxious to meet with Iain’s men to learn what else they had been able to uncover.