Page 23 of Shadow Music (Highlands' Lairds 3)

  “We can’t give over the trunks until we know for sure it’s her.”

  One man dropped his voice to a whisper. “Let’s get this over with quick. I ain’t stayin’ around to meet the laird.”

  Colm had been working with the stonemasons on the winch at the side of the keep. He rounded the corner with a frayed rope in his hands just as Faust called to him.

  The visitors formed a line in front of the first cart. The tallest stepped forward and with an air of importance announced, “We brung the Lady Gabrielle’s trunks. We’ll leave them if you will tell us if that woman be her.” He pointed to Gabrielle.

  No one answered him.

  Colm walked over to Gabrielle. “What’s this?” he asked.

  His nearness gave her strength, but she couldn’t stop her hand from trembling when she touched his arm. “I would like you to meet the men who have brought my things to me.” She took a step forward, but Stephen stopped her from taking another. “I am Lady Gabrielle.”

  The spokesman eyed MacHugh nervously as he said to Gabrielle, “Then these be your trunks.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “We brung them from the abbey.”

  Gabrielle turned to Colm. “These men will be of interest to you.”

  Colm looked them over. “Why is that?” he asked.

  With her back to the infidels, she whispered, “They like to dig holes.”

  “YOU’RE CERTAIN OF THIS, GABRIELLE?” COLM ASKED.

  “Yes.”

  Gabrielle couldn’t tell what Colm was thinking. She whispered, “Do you want me to give you their names? I remember all of them.”

  He didn’t look at her when he answered, “That won’t be necessary. Go inside, Gabrielle, and stay there.”

  His control amazed her. She knew rage had to be surging through his veins, but he wasn’t letting anything show.

  Without being asked, Christien ran in search of Braeden, feeling the laird’s commander should know what was going on.

  As Lucien and Faust were escorting her inside, Gabrielle looked back over her shoulder. Colm walked toward the condemned men. With terror-stricken eyes, they retreated and scrambled around the carts, only to find dozens of armed MacHugh warriors coming up the hill behind them.

  The door closed behind her, and she climbed the steps to the great hall. She didn’t hear any sounds coming from outside—it was deadly quiet—and neither guard would allow her to look out the window. One hour passed, then another and another. And still not a sound from outside. Despite Lucien’s and Faust’s attempts to divert her attention, Gabrielle’s apprehension grew.

  As the sun was setting, Stephen came into the hall. He was alone.

  “Princess, your trunks have been placed in the storage room.”

  “Thank you. Tomorrow will be soon enough to go through them. Do you happen to know if Colm will be coming soon?”

  “The laird has left the holding. I doubt he’ll be back tonight.”

  “Milady, your supper’s on the table waiting for you,” Maurna announced.

  “I thought I would wait for the laird and his brother…”

  “They have both left the holding,” Stephen said.

  “Just the two of them?”

  “No.”

  He would say nothing more.

  Gabrielle learned more from Maurna than from any of her guards.

  “A fair number of our clansmen went with our laird. And the strangers who brought your things went with them, too. From the looks of things, I don’t think they wanted to go, but you can’t say no to the laird, can you?”

  It was apparent that Maurna didn’t know who these strangers were or what they had done, and Gabrielle wasn’t about to tell her.

  She went to bed early that night, but sleep didn’t come until the early-morning hours.

  Colm didn’t return to the keep for five long days and nights. And when at last he came, he didn’t make a big announcement of his arrival. Gabrielle came down the stairs one morning and there he was, standing in front of the hearth. She was so surprised to see him, she nearly tripped on the last step. She nervously smoothed her gown and adjusted the braided belt resting on her hips. Had she known he was back, she would have taken more time and care with her appearance. She would have worn her emerald green gown, not this faded blue one, and she would have bound her hair up with a pretty ribbon. She wouldn’t have let it hang down around her shoulders.

  She knew she looked drab, but it was actually his fault, she decided, because he hadn’t given her any warning.

  “You’re home,” she said.

  Colm turned and his fierce eyes hungrily took her in. Damn, but he had missed her. He missed her smiles, her frown, her laughter, and most of all he missed kissing her.

  He wasn’t much for honeyed words. “You sleep your mornings away, Gabrielle.”

  “You cannot even say hello to me before you begin to criticize?”

  “Are you ill?”

  “She’s not sleeping at night, Laird.” Maurna made the announcement as she carried a pitcher to the table. She placed it next to four goblets, bowed to her laird, and added, “Some nights she doesn’t go upstairs until the wee hours of the morning.”

  “How do you know when I go upstairs?” Gabrielle asked.

  “Garrett told David, and he told Aitken, who told my man, who told me.”

  “But how would Garrett know?”

  “He knew because Nevin told him. Do you want to know how Nevin knew?”

  Dear God, no, she didn’t. She had a feeling this litany could go on all morning.

  “Gabrielle, come here,” Colm ordered.

  She crossed the hall to stand in front of him. She leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth. It was quick, but still a kiss. She stepped back, looked up at him, and said, “Welcome home, Laird.”

  And that, she believed, was a proper greeting. She folded her hands and waited for him to do the same.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping at night?” he asked.

  Ignoring the question, she asked, “Are you happy to be home? And if you are, you should tell me so. It is the courteous thing to do.”

  “Yes, I am happy to be home, you daft woman. Now answer my question.”

  Since he’d been smiling at her when he called her daft, she didn’t take offense.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Could you be worried about something?”

  “Could I be worrying? What could I have to worry about? Could it be that I fear for my father since I have no notion of where he might be? Or might it be that my future husband leaves and doesn’t return for days on end? Could I be worried that something might have happened to him?”

  “You would worry about me?”

  She jabbed him in the chest. “And you call me daft?” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Yes, I was worried about you, but you were last on my list of worries.”

  “You lie, Gabrielle, and not at all well.”

  “I know you don’t want to marry me,” she began, “but—”

  “I will marry you,” a voice from the entrance called.

  Liam strode into the hall.

  “No, you will not marry me, Liam,” she said in exasperation. “And I am trying to have a private conversation with Colm. Please leave.”

  Colm put his arm around Gabrielle and pulled her close. “Lady Gabrielle has agreed to marry me.”

  “Yes, I know she has, but you don’t want her, and I do,” said Liam. “She didn’t save your life, she saved mine, and I am forever in her debt.”

  Colm was getting angry. “Do you think I would give her up to you or to any other man?”

  “Then you do want her?” Liam retorted.

  “Damn right, I do!”

  Liam nodded, and with the most satisfied grin he said, “You might want to tell her so.”

  Gabrielle and Colm heard him laughing as he descended the stairs.

  Colm turned her in his arms and looked into her eyes. “I will never

let you go, Gabrielle.”

  She didn’t know what to say, which was probably just as well, because he didn’t give her time to do more than open her mouth.

  His mouth covered hers, and his tongue thrust inside, demanding a response. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved restlessly against him as his mouth slanted over hers again and again. Their kiss became carnal. She aroused him as no other woman could, and Colm knew if he didn’t stop now, he would lose all control.

  When he ended the kiss, Gabrielle’s heart was pounding. She could barely catch her breath. She was jerked from her daze by a man’s voice.

  “Laird, begging your pardon, but there are more problems with the winch.”

  The stonemason was standing directly behind her. Colm waved the man away.

  “Gabrielle, I noticed you haven’t asked me what happened when I left here.”

  “Would you tell me if I asked?”

  “No.”

  “Then it is good that I don’t ask. I don’t think I want to hear what happened to those men. I might have nightmares.”

  “Rest easy,” he said. “I did not have them buried alive.”

  “That is exactly what I was worried about. You know my thoughts as well as I do. Liam was so distraught, and he threatened to do such terrible things.” She sighed. “But you did not bury them alive.” She tilted her head and studied his face for several seconds then dared to ask, “What did happen to them? Did you let them return home?”

  “No.”

  She knew not to prod him, fearing he would tell her exactly what the punishment had been. Colm wasn’t the forgiving sort, nor was Liam.

  “Were you able to find out who sent them after Liam?”

  Before he could answer, two more clansmen came into the hall, begging his attention. Colm ignored them, but Gabrielle couldn’t. “Your clan makes many demands on your time.”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “You’d best go.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I’d best go.” He grabbed her hand as he walked past her and pulled her along. “Saddle my horse,” he ordered one of the men waiting. To another, he said, “I will not listen to any problems until this afternoon. Make that clear to those waiting.”

  Gabrielle stepped out of the way to let a clansman carrying a bag of grain over his shoulder enter the open door of the storage room.

  He nodded his greeting to her and turned to Colm. “Would you like me to help carry Lady Gabrielle’s clothes upstairs?”

  Colm looked into the room and saw the trunks stacked on the floor. “You carry far too many possessions,” he criticized.

  Gabrielle laughed. “Does everyone think these trunks are filled with gowns?”

  The young man nodded. “The English have need for more than we do.”

  “And the MacHughs have need to make judgments without knowing the facts,” she countered. “If you have a moment, I would like you to open one of my trunks.”

  “For what purpose?” Colm asked.

  “Open one and see for yourself.”

  She had captured his curiosity. “Which one would you like me to open?”

  “You choose.”

  Colm pulled one trunk down from the stack and was surprised by the weight.

  “Danen, grab one end,” he ordered.

  “English clothes weigh more than a trunk filled with stone,” Danen grunted.

  “Clothes don’t weigh this much, even English clothes.”

  There were four latches. Colm unlocked each one, then lifted the lid. Bags stuffed full were packed inside.

  Gabrielle suggested he use his dagger to pierce the cloth, and when he did, grains of salt spilled out.

  He was astounded. “You bring salt.”

  “Yes. Salt was one of my gifts to Laird Monroe, and now it’s yours.”

  “Salt is more valuable than the most precious jewels,” Danen stammered. His green eyes were bright with excitement. “And much needed. Isn’t that true, Laird?”

  Colm agreed with a nod. “Are all these trunks filled with salt?”

  “All but one. You are pleased?”

  “I am. If anyone had known what was inside these trunks, they never would have gotten here.”

  He latched the locks and walked outside. A stable boy led Colm’s horse across the courtyard. The skittish animal had tried to rear up twice before Colm calmed him. The Black, as he was called, was a magnificent animal. He was twice the size of Rogue, but Gabrielle doubted his disposition was half as sweet. Colm lifted her onto The Black, then swung up behind her and took the reins.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  A woman carrying a basket hurried toward them. “Laird, if you have a minute, I need but a word about—”

  “It will have to wait.”

  He wrapped his arm around Gabrielle’s waist and held her tight against him as he nudged the giant horse forward. Gabrielle couldn’t imagine what had come over Colm. He wasn’t running from her to take care of the demands of his clan. Nay, he seemed now to be running from his clan to be with her.

  Once they’d cleared the moat, Colm gave The Black a kick and raced into the wind. They didn’t stop until they reached a crest overlooking a beautiful glen with a brook meandering through it. He dismounted and lifted her to the ground. His hands lingered on her waist before he moved away.

  “Come sit with me. We need to talk,” Colm said.

  His tone worried her. “Is it bad news you have? Is that why you wanted me alone, so I wouldn’t disgrace you by weeping in front of your clan?”

  “You could not disgrace me.”

  She sat down by a tree and adjusted her skirts to cover her ankles. “I have learned to expect the worst.”

  He knelt on one knee in front of her and cupped her chin in the palm of his hand.

  “I brought you here so that we would not be interrupted, which, as you surely have noticed, happens quite frequently in my holding.”

  “It happens because you don’t delegate. You should, you know. If you would give Braeden and the others, including your brother, more responsibility, you not only would take some of the burden off your shoulders, but you also would show them you have trust in them. You aren’t the only one who can make a good decision.”

  “I did not bring you here to have you lecture me.”

  “But you will consider what I have said?”

  He sat down next to her and leaned back against the tree. “I will,” he said, stretching his long legs out in front of him, then crossing one foot over the other.

  He looked relaxed, she thought, but then so did lions before they pounced.

  “If it were good news, you would have told me by now.”

  “It’s neither good nor bad. Here is what I know. The men who brought your trunks would never have come to my home if they had known anyone had seen them at Finney’s Flat. I had the opportunity to question them at length.”

  She didn’t ask him to explain what he meant by opportunity. “And they answered your questions?”

  Did she possibly think he had given them a choice? Of course they had answered his questions. He made it all but impossible for them to refuse.

  “They all insisted that they never knew the name of the man who hired them. Only their leader knew.”

  “Gordon. He was their leader, and I killed him.” She patted his knee as though to console him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry about what?”

  “Sorry you won’t ever find out who sent them after Liam.”

  “MacKenna sent them.”

  “But how…”

  “I will explain, and you will hold your questions until I’m finished.” He waited for her nod and then said, “Baron Coswold had your trunks taken to the abbey. Almost immediately after you left the abbey, he and his soldiers began their search for you. So did the other one.”

  “Percy?” Even his name repelled her, and she shivered with disdain. “The two of them are demons.”

  “From what I understand, they ha

ve both been chasing rumors, trying to find you. Coswold heard that you might be living with my clan, and he needed to find out for certain before he acted. What better way than to send your trunks with men who would report back to him.”

  “The abbot didn’t send them?”

  “At Coswold’s urging, he did. But I’m sure the abbot thought he was doing a kindness. The problem was finding men to take them. Coswold couldn’t send Englishmen. They never would have gotten this far, and if by chance and luck they did, they would never have made it back to report to him.”

  “But how did he…” She realized she was once again interrupting and stopped.

  “The men Gordon hired didn’t know MacKenna was paying them, but MacKenna knew who they were. Gordon gave him their names.”

  “How did you get this information?”

  “It’s amazing what a man will remember when pressured to do so. The one named Hamish told me he heard Coswold and MacKenna had come to some sort of an arrangement. He called it a pact. Coswold knew King John wouldn’t give you to him, and so he promised you to MacKenna. He would get Finney’s Flat, and in return Coswold would be able to see you whenever he wanted. It’s my understanding they intended to share you.”

  Gabrielle felt ill. “I did not think these men could sicken me any more than they already have, but now you tell me they meant to share me? As they would a wife? Oh, my God…”

  She tried to get up, but Colm gently pulled her down beside him. “Another one of the outcasts admitted he overheard Coswold whispering to one of his confidants. Yes, Coswold wanted you in his bed, Gabrielle, but he also wanted information he believes you hide.”

  Colm thought it peculiar that Gabrielle didn’t ask him if he had any idea what kind of information Coswold thought she might have.

  “You know what he wants, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Gabrielle?”

  She rested against his side. “He wants the treasure of St. Biel.”

  She told him the legend as it had been told to her countless times.

  “It is said that St. Biel’s King Grenier did not send all the gold to the pope, but hid it away. It is also believed that the treasure is so vast, whoever finds it will have the power to rule the world. No one has ever found it, but it makes an interesting story.”