Winning the Highlander's Heart (40 page)

“Firth MacKnight,” the cook said.

“Laird MacKnight’s nephew?”  Her throat grew dry.  Who else on her staff was related to the laird?  Would his nephew have had a hand in murdering his own aunt as well?

“Aye, milady,” Froman said, his voice shaky as if he worried the laird’s nephew would get him next once he learned the cook had told on him.

Anice swallowed hard.  “Thank ye.  Laird MacNeill did indeed enjoy the meal.  Who was so thoughtful to prepare the double portions for us?”

Froman grinned.  “I did, milady.  When Gavin MacNair said you were with child, I wanted to make sure you and the bairn had plenty to eat.”

Anice opened her mouth to speak, felt her face heat, then the warmth spread all the way to her toes.  She remembered Gavin had mentioned such a thing to them at the meal, but now the notion truly hit her.  Her ladies’ eyes widened.  The cooks, too, seemed to wait with great expectancy for her to say more about her condition.  “Thank ye, kindly, Froman, Robina.  Please eat your meals.”

She hurried out of the room with her ladies.  She would get the truth out of MacKnight’s nephew before her husband found out what she was up to and stopped her.

“Milady, are you truly with child?” Nola asked.

“Of course no’.  We only just got married for heaven’s sakes.  Gavin MacNair only said so to avoid the cooks becoming suspicious of why Laird MacNeill wouldna eat his own food.”

“But you could be with child,” Morrigan said.  “They say it can happen even if you have only made love once.”

Anice shook her head.  “I am no’ with child.”  She hastened outside of the keep and targeted the wooden barracks that housed both her men and the baron’s for now.

“Milady, you must get the men to deal with the MacKnight,” Nola attempted to appeal to her like Mai would have done.

“And he will be thrown in the dungeon, if he hasna already escaped,” Anice said.  “Then I will not have a chance to know what is going on.”  Forging ahead, she would not be deterred by her ladies or anyone else.

As soon as she approached the entryway to the barracks, one of her men rushed out to greet her.  “Lady MacNeill.  You shouldna be here.  Half the men are in a state of undress while they prepare for bed.”

“Eanruig, I come for Firth MacKnight.  If he is here still, send him out to speak to me,” she demanded, her tone caustic.  She would not be thwarted.

Eanruig narrowed his gray eyes disapprovingly, his black bushy brows furrowed, his black hair shaggy about his shoulders.  A man who excelled on the battlefield and with the ladies in bed, she’d heard tell.  “Does Laird MacNeill know you are here?”

She hesitated, then she succeeded in doing what she did best, took the matter into her own hands and stormed past him into the barracks.  She would have none of her staff barring her investigation just because she had a husband who would disapprove of her actions.  Her ladies followed her inside and instantly Nora gasped and Morrigan giggled.  Anice felt the blush return to her cheeks when the naked men covered their exposed privates.  “I wish to speak to Firth MacKnight about his poor uncle.  At once.”

“Aye, milady,” Thomas said, who wore his tunic resting mid thigh and a grin.  “I will get him for ye.”

When she turned to see what had happened to Eanruig, she was surprised to find he wasn’t behind her.  She hurried outside and saw him entering the keep. 
Damnation
.  He’d tell Malcolm.

She stepped back inside.  “Thomas, I apologize for inconveniencing ye, but would you stay with me while I talk to the young man?”

“Aye, milady.”  He hurried to the end of the barracks and spoke to a man already buried in his blankets. 

“Come on, lad, Lady Anice herself is here to see ye.”

The blond sat up on the straw cot half dazed.

“Firth MacKnight,” Thomas said, raising his voice to stir him.  “Hurry.  Dinna tarry any longer.  Her Ladyship is waiting on ye.”

The man was twenty and was the son Laird MacKnight hadn’t had.  Some day he would have had his uncle’s title, but not now.  How could he have done such a thing?  Mayhap to get in good with the new laird, but Baron Fontenot would never be his laird.

He scrambled out of bed.  “What does she want with me?” he whispered, but his words echoed off the walls as the other men watched to see what happened next.

“She has news of your poor uncle.”

“My uncle?”  He sounded confused, his voice not as deep as a man’s yet.  Was he in league with his uncle or not?  Aye, he had to be if he paid the girl in the kitchen.

“You best get dressed.  The lady is waiting for you at the end of the barracks.”

He turned to see her standing at the entryway and she swore he looked like he was going to faint.

Though she should have moved outside with her ladies, she dared not in case the man bolted.  But if she told them what her purpose was in coming there, they wouldn’t have allowed her to talk to him.  Instead, they would have turned him over to Laird MacNeill and again she wouldn’t find out what had happened.

When he had dressed, he walked toward her like a man who would soon be beheaded, which would soon be his fate.  But not before he indicted those who had bribed him to do this evil deed.  His defeated posture instantly condemned him.

She commended him for not running like she thought he would, though.  Did he think what he had done had been for everyone’s benefit?  Or only he and his uncle’s?  But why had Lady MacKnight also been murdered?

When they stood outside, MacTavish, the captain of the guard joined them, but soon, six more men drifted outside, four of hers, and two of the baron’s.  She said to the baron’s men, “This is a private matter betwixt my people and me.  You will have to leave.”

The two stalked in the direction of the keep, not back to the barracks.  Now the baron would be told his plans were quickly crumbling.

“Stop those men!” Anice shouted.  Four of her men raced after them, forcing them to turn back, while the baron’s men loudly protested.

MacTavish said, “Milady, what is this all about?”  Already her men seemed worried something terrible was the matter, and she was certain they figured they’d better turn the matter over to Laird MacNeil.

“I do not wish the baron to learn we have this young man in custody.”

“But the lad serves you nay the…”  Seeing the exasperation on her face, MacTavish ordered the four men, “Stay with them in the barracks.”  He grabbed Firth MacKnight’s arm.  “Why do we have the young man in custody, milady?”

She said to MacKnight, “Who paid you to poison my uncle?”

MacTavish looked at MacKnight with disbelief.

“I did not poison your uncle, milady, you must believe that.”

“You paid the kitchen maid to do it, I ken.  But who gave you the money to pay her?”

MacTavish cleared his throat, his eyes hard, though she was certain he was angry at the man and not her.  “Milady, Laird MacNeill should be taking care of this matter, if Laird MacKnight’s nephew has done something so heinous.”

She ignored him, wanting to question MacKnight as much as possible before her husband stopped her.  “Who, MacKnight?”

“My uncle.”

She let out her breath, knowing the truth of the matter even before his nephew revealed it.  “Did you do it willingly?”

The man looked at the ground.

Through clenched teeth, she asked again, “Did ye?”

“Aye, milady.”

Her head spun with frustration.  Why would any on her staff have killed her good-hearted uncle?  “Where is Laird MacKnight?” 

He shrugged.  “I dinna ken.  Mayhap in the village.”

“And Laird Iverson?”

“Dead.”  The squire’s tone was wooden, his brown eyes dull.

Her heart quickened at the news.  She’d prayed her chamberlain hadn’t been guilty of any crime and would still be alive.  “Who killed him?”

“My uncle.”

“By whose authority?”

“He is a powerful man and will marry ye whether you want it or no’.”

“
Baron Fontenot
.”

“The Norman lairds will rule this land, and we might as well get used to it.  The sooner we ally with them the better off those of us will be who recognize it and be in good stead with Robert Curthose.”

The two MacKnights were the damnable rebels in their midst, siding with her Edgar Atheling and Robert Curthose!  God’s teeth, if Henry found out and thought the rest of her people were in league with his rebellious brother…

“Lady MacNeill!”  Malcolm’s voice was deep and threatening.

She attempted to ignore him, but her skin grew clammy, and she spoke more quickly.  “Why was Laird Iverson murdered?”

“He discovered that my uncle killed Laird Thompson.”

“And Lady MacKnight?  Your aunt?  Why her?”

Firth MacKnight glared at her.  “She wouldn’t go along with his plans.  But no’ only that he had a verra agreeable mistress, and she was all for whatever he intended.”

What else did she and her uncle not know about their staff?  “Who was his mistress?”

The sound of Malcolm’s rapid footsteps and the others drew closer, yet she persisted, her heart thundering with urgency.  “Who?”

The squire looked down at the ground, then up at Anice.  “The marshal’s daughter.”

She wanted to scream.  “Was the marshal also involved?”

“Nay.”

Thank God for small miracles.  She couldn’t bear it if one more of her higher staff members were involved in this deadly mess.

“Did his daughter know that your uncle was going to kill his wife?”

“Aye, that she did.  She helped make the poison.”

The dreadful girl made her own bed and would lay in it for all eternity.  Anice didn’t pity her for what would happen to her one wee bit.

“Lady MacNeill!”

She whipped around to see Malcolm stalking toward her with his brother, Dougald, Eanruig--the man who had told on her--and four more of her men.  Malcolm’s dark brows were furrowed, and she knew he was about to hang her with the rest of the vermin who’d committed the crimes.

Not one to be intimidated, she tilted her chin up.  “Aye, Laird MacNeill, I was finishing my walk before I retired to bed.  Firth MacKnight may have something to say to you though.”

“Interrogate the lad,” he said to Dougald.  “I have matters to discuss with Lady MacNeill.”

“Oh, and two of the baron’s knights are being detained so they will not tell him what we have uncovered concerning this plot of theirs.”  She headed back to the keep with her ladies.

Malcolm seized her arm and stormed back to the castle with her.  “You would try the devil’s patience, Anice.”

She frowned at him, not liking that he wouldn’t permit her to help.  “You said you would let me help with the investigation.  You said I would be the bait.”

“I did not mean it.  You are the lady of the manor, and I dinna want a precious hair on that bonny head of yours harmed.”  He glanced back at the men.  “And why was one of your men half dressed in front of you?”

She shrugged, amused he would notice.  “Getting ready to retire for the night?”

“As you should have been.  The man who came to warn me about what you were doing said you stalked into the barracks.  Did you do things like this oft before I wed ye?”