Seducing the Laird (20 page)

Chapter 37

Suppers among the McPherson clan turned into strained affairs. Verena was forced to sit between Cairn and Ivone and bear the wrath of their thinly veiled contempt. Several days had passed since that disastrous night and though she was no longer confined to her chambers, Cairn insisted a guard follow her at all times. This meant she was unable to resume her duties for Lord Gundy and couldn’t speak to Owen again.
Knowing that Jon was also unable to contact Owen since that night made her stomach twist with worry.
Were his words frustrated ramblings, or was Owen truly planning to overthrow Gundy’s authority?

Cairn spent his days making plans for England and the winter. For the sake of the clan he strove to maintain the illusion of stability. She had grown close to the McPhersons so Cairn granted her a measure of freedom, though he no doubt longed to lock her away.

They never spoke about the child, but sometimes she would absently rub her flat stomach, imagining a boy or girl with bright curls and Cairn’s eyes. She would glance up and find Cairn watching her with an inscrutable expression. Verena knew he wanted the child, otherwise he would have banished her from the castle, but he was not ready to trust Verena again. She set to work trying to repair their relationship.

If the clan liked Verena before, she was determined to make them love her now. She assisted the midwife and the apothecary. Verena distributed medicines to the sick and found old bolts of wool to make warm clothes for the village children. Recipes were exchanged with the cook and she never missed a church event. Verena was beyond reproach, but Cairn still maintained his distance. He didn’t visit her chamber or attempt to kiss her again. Verena was cut out of his heart, but she was determined not to lose hope.

With Gundy’s forces expected in less than a fortnight, she knew she was running out of time. Unfortunately, she was no closer to finding the treasure. There were too many unknowns and she hated her precarious position. Owen was an opportunist and might try something without her knowledge. He wouldn’t dare approach the castle for fear of being recognized. Instead Owen would work his mischief from a distance, perhaps employing another to take his place.

Lady Ivone also had at least one operative working within the castle for a purpose she didn’t yet understand. There were too many actors on the stage and she was no longer sure of her part. All she knew was that she must be careful lest she be caught in another scheme.

Verena scanned the faces of each person entering and exiting the hall, looking for anyone who seemed out of place. She needed to identify all unknown agents immediately, in case Ivone employed more than one.

A young servant quietly entered the hall, carrying a pitcher of wine. He seemed removed from the chaos in a way only someone outside the household would be. He stayed close to the walls with downcast eyes, trying not to draw attention to himself.

"My lord?" she bravely asked Cairn, despite his less than social mood. "Is that a new server?"

"How should I know?" he snapped, draining the contents of his goblet for the third time. "You know the servants better than I."

Undaunted she repeated the question to Lady Ivone and received a similar response. She surreptitiously signaled to Jon. He would know if a new servant was working. Ever watchful, Jon immediately caught her eye and subtly shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t recognize the lad, but would certainly know his story by the end of the evening.

There was something about the servant that bothered Verena. There was a slight hesitation in his step as if he was unfamiliar with his role. His eyes darted about, watching the other servants and imitating their movements. When he approached the head table Verena knew something was wrong.

Unless the boy was extremely ambitious or foolhardy, a new servant wouldn’t dream of approaching the head table without a summons. He only refilled Cairn’s goblet, ignoring Verena and Lady Ivone’s half-empty ones.

"What is your name, boy?" she asked, nearly causing the lad to drop his pitcher in surprise.

"My … er … my name?" he stammered. "It’s uh …umm …"

"Leave the poor boy alone," interjected Ivone. Verena was astonished to hear her come to the rescue of someone so far beneath her. "You may go now."

The boy bowed nervously and started to run from the hall, but her voice stopped him.

"Won’t you refill my goblet?" she prodded. He clutched the pitcher to his chest as if it were made of gold. "Why don’t you leave that here?"

"I … Um …"

She could see the perspiration gathering on his forehead and silently rebuked Owen. This lad should not have been dragged into their shady business. He looked barely sixteen years of age. Verena noted his gaunt features and the way his ragged clothes hung loosely about his skeletal frame. He was probably a runaway.

"It’s empty," he lied. "I’ll bring another."

Cairn reached for his re-filled goblet and she snatched it. Her move was instinctive and she grimaced in horror at her stupidity. Verena knew she was beginning to care for him, but until that moment she didn’t think her affection would hinder her ability to act.

Why did she take the wine from Cairn? According to Gundy’s plan, Cairn had to die. She knew this would come and should be relieved someone else found a way to do it. Verena should have calmly watched the boy do his business, but now it was too late.

She couldn’t give the wine to Cairn after she had drawn attention to it. She would no doubt be suspected of participating in the murder. There were many opportunities for an assassin to strike and she was certain they would try again. Next time she must not allow her emotions to dictate her actions.

"That is my cup," said Cairn as he reached for the goblet again. Verena handed him the drink, but before he could grasp it, she allowed the cup to slide through her fingers, spilling the wine into the floor rushes below.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. She made a show of leaping back so the wine didn’t soil her gown. Cairn was not so lucky and some of the liquid splashed his hose. "I am terribly sorry. The lad said he would return with another pitcher, but I was impatient."

"It is fine," said Cairn, irritably dabbing his tunic with a cloth.

"I think I shall retire for the night."

She excused herself from the hall, retreating quickly before Cairn or Ivone could question her unusually clumsy behavior. Verena scanned the faces of the assembly, but the servant was nowhere to be found. Jon had also slipped away, probably in search of this new agent. If Owen had orchestrated the attempted assassination, he wisely kept out of sight.

Chapter 38

A surprisingly warm sun bathed Verena’s cheeks. It reminded her of the glorious summer she spent in Southern France with the Duc de Ravenna. Every morning she had risen early to bathe in the ocean and feast on imperfect breakfast rolls, deliciously dripping with butter, yet deemed unworthy to grace the
lord’s table
.

Suddenly her door flew open, slamming against the stone wall with a loud bang. She sat up in bed, grabbing the knife under her pillow, and ready to fling it at her attacker.

"Come with me now!" Cairn growled.

"Milord?
Is something wrong?"

Verena scrambled from the bed. She threw on a dressing gown and slippers, never loosening her hold on the knife.

"Aye."

Cairn grabbed her arm and propelled her through the door. She had to run to keep up with his long strides as they hurried toward the feast hall. Several knights were gathered around the head table, grimly examining the floor and shaking their heads.

"What is it?" she asked, but she feared she already knew. The floor rushes had not been cleared since the night before and two enterprising mice had snuck into the castle while everyone slept. Their corpses littered the floor where she spilled the wine. It was obvious they had been snacking on the liquid.

"Why did you keep me from drinking the wine last night?"

"I spilled it."

"Did you know it was poisoned?"

What should she say? If she told him the truth, Cairn would be furious, but what if she lied and the assassin struck again? Verena hoped as long as she carried his child, Cairn wouldn’t harm her, but she couldn’t be certain. If he knew the truth, would Cairn still want the bastard child of a spy?

"I didn’t know, but I suspected."

"What did you suspect?" Fergus demanded. "Why did you not say anything?"

The clan had come to respect Cairn during his months as their laird. None of them would see him harmed, especially not after the sudden death of his father and the coming war with Langthorne.

"I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that the lad was unfamiliar and he only refilled your glass. Did you question him?"

The knights exchanged looks. They were expecting Gundy to send his army, not an assassin, and had not been vigilant against such a threat.

"We found the boy outside the village. His throat was cut."

"Oh my!"

"It was Gundy, milord," Fergus said. "I knew that whoreson was still plotting against you. There will be another attempt. I am sure of it. If he could turn Jon …"

"Jon, the new stable boy?"
She tried to keep her voice as even as possible. What happened after he left the hall? He probably confronted the lad, but that was no reason for Fergus’ accusation. Verena was closer to Jon than anyone else on Hadran’s team. She had to find a way to help him.

"Aye.
We found him sneaking away from the lad’s body. He said he was innocent, but he was holding the bloody knife!"

"I don’t believe it. Why would he do such a thing?"

"I bet they were conspirators. They fought once they saw laird Cairn didn’t drink the poison and Jon stabbed him …"

"We do not know who was behind this attack," Cairn lifted one hand to stop the argument before it could turn into a shouting match. Everyone was upset by the poisoning and Jon’s possible involvement. Cairn worked hard to give the clan the illusion of stability, but now everything was crumbling apart. "Jon will remain in the dungeon until I am assured of his innocence."

"Fergus is right. There may be another assassination attempt. We must be vigilant."

The knife was still clutched in her hand. She surreptitiously slipped it into the sleeve of her dressing gown. She and Jon were the only outsiders in the household and Jon was now being held for suspicion of murder. He was so sure no one would suspect him of working for Gundy, yet now he was locked in the dungeon.

She didn’t believe Jon was behind the murder. He had no reason to kill the lad and unlike Owen, wouldn’t act so rashly on his own. Unfortunately she couldn’t tell Cairn that. If they suspected him, despite her pleasant demeanor, the clan could very easily begin to suspect her.

"Milord," she asked. "Do you truly believe Lord Gundy is behind this?"

"He is certainly capable of such a deed and has the most to gain from my demise. I don’t know how he gained access to my castle, but I will ensure other assassins are not so lucky."

"How?
There are so many people working here. You cannot watch everyone."

"We will do our best. Don’t worry. Last night I was not expecting an attack. Now I know better."

With Cairn’s soldiers on guard, an assassin would have a harder time reaching him, but it was also one more obstacle in her path to finding the treasure. Discovering the silver seemed less likely as time passed.

Would Owen make an attempt on Cairn’s life without contacting her first? If he was behind the attack, he should have notified her first. But what if Owen didn’t orchestrate last night’s attack? Who else would benefit from Cairn’s demise?

"Milord," she asked suddenly. "How did your father die?"

Cairn shrugged. His mind was clearly on other matters.

"He was sick for a long time. Six months ago he passed away."

"What were his symptoms?"

"What difference does it make?" asked Cairn. "Ivone nursed him."