The Recruit (44 page)

As he’d anticipated, Felton was watching him closer than before. Kenneth had half
expected him to insist on joining him on the journey to Edinburgh. That he hadn’t
asked bothered him.

He didn’t realize he was frowning until she said, “Is there something wrong? You’ve
seemed distracted the past few days.”

His wife had learned to read his moods too well. “You mean other than that I will
be spending the night in the cold rain with a half-dozen men rather than in bed with
my wife?”

But she would not be so easily placated. She eyed him intently. “I know something
is wrong.” She bit her lips, her
eyes looming large in her face. “Does it have something to do with my sister? Have
you had news?”

His chest squeezed, wishing there were some way to ease her sadness. He’d hoped to
soften the sting of his betrayal with news of her sister, but so far he’d run headlong
into a stone wall. His inquiries to Lamberton had been met with sharp resistance.
Lamberton had instructed him in no uncertain terms to not disturb ghosts that had
been laid to rest. Whether that was meant as a warning or a confirmation of her death,
he didn’t know.

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “I’ve learned nothing more than you already know. The abbess
insists no such nun has ever been there, and Brother Thomas has yet to return.”

“When he does—”

“When he does, I will talk to him.”

She relaxed back against the wooden headboard with a sigh. “Thank you.”

“I will return as soon as I am able.”

She nodded, and he turned to leave.

“Kenneth.”

He looked back at her.

“I love you.”

She seemed to be trying to tell him something. Almost as if she were trying to ease
the turmoil she sensed wrestling inside him.

He smiled. “I know.”

He only prayed that when this was all over, she felt the same way.

They were pulling him out. Damn it, it was too soon. “I’m not ready,” Kenneth said.
“I need more time.”

MacKay gave him a glance sharp enough to see in the moonlit darkness. “From what I
hear,
Ice
, you are plenty ready.”

Ah hell
. They must have heard about his fighting.
Kenneth clenched his jaw, ready for the arse-chewing that he knew he was about to
get.

MacKay didn’t disappoint. He never did when it came to that. “What the hell were you
thinking? What if someone from the castle discovered what you were doing? You would
have a lot of explaining to do.”

The fact that someone
had
discovered him made MacKay’s anger even more justified. But he sure as hell wasn’t
going to tell him about Felton. “It was the only way I could think of to keep my skills
sharp. I won’t be much good to Bruce if I’m not ready when he needs me.”

“What he needs you to do is stay close to Percy and find out all you can about what
Edward is planning. He doesn’t need you fighting in secret tourneys and ending up
in a dungeon. Nor does he need you to worry about Clifford’s absences—or inquire about
missing nuns, for that matter.”

Kenneth stilled. If MacKay knew about his inquiries, that meant Lamberton had told
Bruce. It didn’t take Campbell-like senses to know they were hiding something. Which
meant he’d just found the source of his stone wall, and worse, he suspected why it
had been put there: they knew something. And he couldn’t tell Mary. He’d wanted to
find a way to soften the blow for his deception; instead he was compounding the secrets
between them.

“Leave him alone, Saint,” Ewen Lamont said from his place in the shadows. They stood
in the forest just east of the Pentland Hills, a short distance from Edinburgh. Kenneth
had managed to slip away from the rest of the men on his ride north to scout the road
ahead, when he’d spotted them. But they didn’t have much time. “From what I hear,
the recruit did us proud. No harm has come of it. And he’s brought us more than we
could have expected.”

Kenneth didn’t know what surprised him more: that the acclaimed tracker had jumped
to his defense or the length
of the speech by which he’d done so. He didn’t think he’d heard Lamont string more
than two or three words together at a time the entire duration of his training. Lamont,
war name Hunter, was the polar opposite of MacSorley in social skills. Blunt was a
nice way of putting it. Inept was another. The man said what he thought, when he wanted
to, in as few words as possible.

Which made his partnership with Eoin MacLean easily the most muted of any of the pairings,
as the famed battle strategist possessed a silent, grim intensity and also tended
to keep his words to a minimum.

It was MacLean who spoke next. “This letter is just the confirmation we need. Now
that we know Edward is sending supplies to Edinburgh Castle—and probably Stirling
as well—in preparation for his campaign, it means we can guess the route he will take,
which will make it easier to prepare our attacks. It’s time to put the plan for your
exit in motion. From what we hear, one of Percy’s men has been asking a lot of questions
about you. Edward’s ship is leaving from London any day. Why wait and risk something
going wrong? Part of waging a successful mission is knowing when you should get out.
You’ve done well—better than we could have hoped. But now you are needed with us.
Bruce wants us with Douglas in the forest, gathering support and readying the troops.”

Kenneth shook his head. “It’s too easy.” He held up the letter that he’d been entrusted
to deliver to the constable at Edinburgh. “Percy just happens to send me ahead with
a message about an impending delivery? It doesn’t feel right.” The moment he’d read
it, he’d known it was too good to be true. “Give me a little more time. As soon as
Sir Adam leaves, I can get Mary away without anyone knowing; then we’ll see. We need
to wait for Hawk anyway.”

With Mary’s pregnancy, he’d decided it would be easier to get her to safety by ship.

“And the young earl?” MacKay asked.

“Once we have him, I think he can be convinced.” He hoped. But Davey was hard to read
and good at keeping his thoughts to himself. He was counting on the boy’s admiration
for him, and Mary’s persuasion.

The three men looked at each other. After a moment, MacKay said, “Don’t take any chances.
If something doesn’t feel right, get out of there. With three thousand English soldiers
garrisoned nearby, we won’t be able to get you out of Berwick’s pit prison anytime
soon. And as MacRuairi can tell you, it’s not a place you would wish to stay for long.”

Kenneth remembered. His brief stay had been long enough. “And if something does go
wrong?”

His brother-in-law held his gaze. “We’ll take care of her.”

Kenneth nodded. Strange, but there was no man he would trust more with his wife than
his former enemy. MacKay would take care of her. Whatever else happened, Mary would
be safe. He could take solace in the knowledge that he’d kept one promise.

He just hoped it didn’t come to that.

Mary tugged on the leather handle, but the blasted thing wouldn’t budge. She plopped
down atop the trunk and with a deep sigh blew a strand of hair from her face. She’d
thought she might be able to move it by herself, but it had to be stuffed with rocks.

She had enlisted a few of the serving girls to help her clean the room in preparation
for the baby, but they’d gone to ready the midday meal and she’d decided to continue
without them.

The hard work seemed to keep her mind from inventing reasons to worry. Her husband
was preoccupied with his duty, that was all. God knew Percy was keeping him busy.
She’d seen so little of him since she’d left Berwick Castle.
Already, it had been three days since he’d left for Edinburgh. There was no reason
to worry. He would come when he could.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. There had
been an almost frantic, desperate edge to his lovemaking the last time he’d been here.
She’d never felt closer to him, yet at times she felt him going somewhere in his mind
that he would not take her.

She wanted his trust. She thought she had it. But what was bothering him and why wouldn’t
he confide in her?

With another sigh, she stood. A billow of dust rose from her skirts as she shook them
off, wiping her hands on her already filthy apron. For a small room, it had held an
inordinate amount of dust—and spiderwebs, she thought with a shiver. Thankfully, the
worst of it was gone. By the time they finished, this room would be spotless.

Returning to the problem of the trunk, she knelt down and lifted back the lid. She
coughed as another blanket of dust was disturbed and the dank scent of mold and stale
air filled her nose. It must have been years since someone had opened this.

She glanced inside. No wonder it had been so difficult to move. It wasn’t loaded with
stones, but books. A veritable treasure trove of leather-bound portfolios, wrapped
in exotic-looking fabrics that she recognized as having come from Outremer. There
were also a few large potted jars, but as they were sealed with wax, she did not try
to open them. Curious, she removed one of the books and flipped through the thick
parchment pages.

It appeared to be a journal of some kind. Though she had some education, and could
make out a few words, many of the entries appeared to have been written quickly, and
the lettering was difficult to make out. But the drawings were beautiful. Flowers.
Plants. Vistas. A veiled woman. And some of the strangest-looking animals she’d
ever seen, including one that looked like a big, gangly horse with a long neck and
hump on its back.

The book was magnificent. She would have opened another, but she heard a sound that
made her jump to her feet.

She glanced out the small window and let out a yelp of excitement. He was back! Kenneth
and a few of his men had just ridden into the yard.

Putting the book aside, Mary rushed down the stairs to meet him. She was winded and
glowing with exertion by the time she reached the bottom of the third level. She entered
the hall at the same time he did from the opposite side. With a cry that told her
exactly how worried she’d been about him, she raced into his arms.

She could hear the reverberation of his laugh in his chest as he lifted her up and
spun her in his arms. Still in his embrace, he set her feet back on the ground and
pressed a quick kiss on her lips, the brevity of which she suspected was due to their
audience. His voice was low and husky. “Miss me?”

An unexpected threat of tears rose behind her eyes. She seemed to cry at the drop
of a pin lately. “Very much. I’m glad you’re back.”

His face clouded ever so slightly. “Not for long, I’m afraid. I have to return to
the castle, but as Huntlywood was on the way, I couldn’t resist a brief stop to check
on you.”

She smiled, trying to hide her disappointment. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He dropped a kiss on her nose and released her.

Suddenly conscious of the men standing behind him, and remembering her duties, Mary
blushed and immediately arranged for food and drink to be brought out.

They were seated at the trestle table and halfway through the meal when Kenneth glanced
around with a frown. “Where is Sir Adam?”

“He was called to the castle.”

“I thought he was leaving tomorrow.”

“He was. His journey has been delayed a few days.”

“Why?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know.”

“He didn’t say anything? Did something happen?”

She frowned at the intensity of his questioning. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“If it’s anything important, I will find out soon.” He tried to dismiss it as if it
didn’t matter, but she sensed it did. He was edgy again.

“Is there something wrong?”

He lifted his goblet, taking a long drink of wine. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. She couldn’t put her finger on it herself. “You seem preoccupied. As
if something is bothering you.”

“Tired, that is all. And regretting that I cannot delay my return to the castle any
longer.”

Mary held his gaze, wishing she could believe him. “Must you go already?”

He nodded. “I will return as soon as I am able. What do you have planned—other than
cleaning?”

How did he …

Suddenly, she blushed, glancing down at her skirts. She’d forgotten all the dust.
Her hands went to her hair. “I must look a fright.”

“You look beautiful.”

The look in his eyes made her blush deepen for a different reason. “I was cleaning
out one of the rooms in the garret for the baby.” She knew she was smiling like an
excited child, but she couldn’t help it. “It’s going to be perfect. There’s a nice
window where I can put a chair, and a small antechamber for the nursemaid to sleep.
I wish that I’d had time to make something myself, but Sir Adam said he has some tapestries
I can use for the walls. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

A shadow crossed his face. “Mary, you know this is only temporary.”

The gentle reminder made her flush with embarrassment. “I know. It’s just hard not
to get carried away a little when I’m so happy.” She thought he would be, too. But
he didn’t look happy. He looked a little pained. “I thought you would understand.”

“Of course I do. I’m sorry. You’re right. I must be more preoccupied than I realized.
I should love to see the room, when I return.”

He seemed so genuinely contrite that she smiled. “I shall put you to work. You can
help me move the trunk. It’s the most wonderful thing. I think it must have belonged
to Sir Adam’s father.”

He seemed to go very still beside her. “What makes you say that?”

“It is filled with the most wonderful treasures from the east. Sir Adam’s father went
on crusade many years ago with King Edward.”

“And my grandfather,” he said carefully.

“That’s right, I’d forgotten. You must see the journals, then.”

The cup slid from his hand, but he steadied it before it tipped over. “Journals?”
he said hoarsely.