Page 38 of Craved By a Highland Beast

Graeme fell silent, surely considering the best course of action. In the end, there was only one way forward, and that was to kill Evan. With him gone, Bonnie would have no reason to reject his offer of marriage.

“Very well,” said Randal. “I will arrange it.”

“Good,” said Graeme. He wanted to be done with Evan as soon as possible. “An’ find out why he came here with her if they are nae cousins. How dae they ken each other? What does he want?”

“It is certainly suspicious.” As he spoke, Ranald’s brows furrowed in that way they did whenever he was trying to puzzle something out, whenever he was close to a revelation. “As far as we ken, they had nae connection afore the Hamilton weddin’.”

“Are ye sayin’ that they met there fer the first time?”

That was perhaps the oddest thing out of this entire situation, Graeme thought. How could it be that they had only met each other? Surely, they must have had some history if Evan and Alaric decided to accompany her all the way to Graeme’s castle and stay by her side this entire time.

Unless they have a reason o’ their own tae be here.

Judging by the concern in Ranald’s face, in the tense line of his jaw and the eyes that shifted around as though he expected an attack to jump out of nowhere at any moment, Graeme was certain he was thinking the same thing.

“We cannae say fer certain,” he said. “It is possible they are friendly an’ have been fer a long time.”

“But there is nae evidence o’ it?”

“Nay, me laird.”

Odd, indeed.

“Find out why they are here,” Graeme said in the end, reaching for the wine pitcher to pour himself another drink. He would need as many as he could get if he was going to survive that day without marching over to Evan and Alaric and demanding an explanation.

They would deny it all, of course. This time, Graeme had to keep him rage in check and wait for the right moment to strike. Too soon and he could ruin all his chances to rid himself of Evan, and perhaps even his chances of marrying Bonnie.

“O’ course,” said Randal, smoothing his tunic with his hands as he stood. He bowed and then turned on his heel, leaving Graeme alone with his cup of wine.

Graeme stood as well, wine in hand, to look out of the window. His gaze instantly found Bonnie and Evan as the two of them strolled around the gardens, walking closer to each other than ever.

Graeme’s mouth twisted into a snarl around the rim of his cup. He finished the wine in a few gulps and tossed the cup on the floor in his rage, relishing in the clatter of the metal against the stone floor.

They think they can fool me. They think I willnae discover the truth about them.

They were the ones who were fools. They had made the mistake of coming to his castle under false pretenses, thinking they would not be discovered, but nothing could happen within those walls without Graeme’s knowledge. He had eyes and ears everywhere.

Pushing himself away from the window, Graeme left the study and headed to the room where he kept all his important documents, wondering if perhaps there was something there that could help him. Perhaps there was something he had missed in the reports his men brought him. Perhaps there was something which could reveal the relationship between Evan and Bonnie, or give him some idea of the reason behind his and Alaric’s visit.

When he got to the room, though, he reached into the pocket where he always kept the key only to find it empty.

It cannae be. Where is it? Where has it gone?

That key was like an extension of himself. He only rarely removed it from his pocket and yet now it was nowhere to be found.

Alarmed, Graeme dug into the pocket, thinking that perhaps he had missed it the first time he looked for it. Still, the pocket was empty, offering no clue as to the key’s whereabouts. His heartbeat quickened as he searched his other pockets, thinking that maybe he had accidentally slipped it in one of them, but they were all just as empty as the first.

Doubt crept into his mind. The only one who could have taken the key from him was someone who was close, but there was no one in the castle he kept that close. Could it be a maid, he wondered? Could one of them had taken it while tidying his clothes?

But what could their goal be? Those wenches cannae even read.

Blood rushed to Graeme’s head as he stalked the corridors of the castle. He had to find that key before it could fall into the wrong hands—assuming it hadn’t done so already. The papers he kept there were too precious, too incriminating to leave them unprotected.

As he stomped through the hallways, he couldn’t help but think that Evan had somehow found a way to take it, impossible as it sounded. Had he managed to creep into his quarters in themiddle of the night? Had he somehow managed to convince one of the maids to grab it for him?

“Guards!” Graeme called and instantly, half a dozen pairs of footsteps approached him, his men rushing to his aid.

He was going to find that key one way or another.

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