Page 30 of Bride of the Beastly Laird

The two men sluiced their heated faces in the barrel of fresh cold water kept filled in the training yard. They were drying themselves on linen towels which were hung on the peg beside the stable door for that purpose when Arran looked up in surprise to see the scowling figure of Bairre approaching.

Craig greeted him cheerfully but Bairre brushed him aside with no more than a grunt. “’Tis ye I wish tae speak with Arran. In me study as soon as ye’ve donned a clean shirt and britches.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed back to the keep.

Arran exchanged a mystified glance with Craig. “Seems urgent.”

Craig shrugged. “I dinnae ken what he wants with ye. But ye’d best make haste. He seems tae be in one of his black moods.”

Bairre was standing with his back to him when Arran entered the study.

He was an imposing figure, as tall and almost as broad as Arran and he could have been handsome, despite his long sharp nose and black, suspicious eyes, but there was always something dark about his face. He seldom smiled and even when he did, there was no warmth in it.

He looked up when Arran entered, his face like thunder, as he gestured to the seat in front of the fire place.

The both sat and Arran stared into the flames, his thoughts racing. He’d had no contact with his mother for several months and had no idea of her whereabouts. For all Arran was aware she could have been taken to one of the many islands to be secreted in a nunnery at one of the priories, or even further afield.

He’d questioned Craig for any information he could provide, any clues that could have led Arran to find her. Even he had no knowledge of where Bairre had hidden her, although as war leader he was privy to the activities of Castle Mackinnon. But Bairre was aware that Craig was Arran’s closest friend, so he didn’t tell him anything about Emilia.

Bairre offered Arran a dram of whisky, which he accepted. This was unusual, Bairre was seldom a good host. He took a sip and waited to hear what was so urgent that he’d been ordered here with such haste.

“D’ye have word of me maither?”

Bairre shrugged the question aside. “Yer maither is well enough fer now, as long as ye perform the tasks I’ve set ye.”

Arran gritted his teeth, hating the man’s power over him.

“I’ve another duty fer ye.”

Arran bit down the angry words on his tongue and nodded, wondering what Bairre was planning now.

Bairre cleared his throat, taking his time to continue. “I have some concerns that me fiancée may be planning tae depart fer Castle MacLeod and she hasnae my permission fer such travel.” He moved uncomfortably in his seat, clearly displeased. Arran could only wonder what may have passed between Dahlia and Bairre that had brought him to such a moment.

“I wish fer ye tae guard the lass. Keep her under watch. Ensure that she doesnae find an opportunity tae flee this place.”

Arran’s stomach lurched. “Are ye asking me tae accompany her during the day, watching over all she does tae?”

Bairre narrowed his eyes. “Aye. Ye’ve gained the sense of it. Dae what ye must tae contain her in the castle. If she wishes tae take the air or ride, fer instance, ye must go with her. I dinnae trust the lass and I wish ye tae be with her at all times making sure she understands she cannot leave the castle.”

Arran took a moment to breathe a deep sigh. “Ye’re asking a great deal, Bairre. It is well right impossible tae maintain surveillance over a lass at all times.”

“Ye will sleep outside her door at night so that she cannae pass by without waking ye. Ye’ll stand by when she visits the privy, ye’ll nae allow her any time tae herself, even when she’s sits embroidering in the solar ye must be close at hand.”

Nodding slowly at Bairre’s words, Arran’s thoughts were in disarray. To be so close to Dahlia at all times would be torture. He studied Bairre’s features noting the hint of a smile playing at the other man’s mouth. It was a look of grim satisfaction and knowing.

He saw at once that Bairre’s suspicions about himself and Dahlia had not been assuaged. It was clear he was baiting a trap for Arran. While he kept watch over Dahlia, no doubt there would be another, keeping watch over him, hidden in the shadows, following his every step. Observing him while he slept at her door. Taking note of every small exchange that took place between them and reporting back to Bairre.

Bairre rose to his feet. “Now go. Find the lass fer I wish ye tae pass her a message from me. Ye may inform her she has nay chance of leaving the castle and that ye will be guarding her night and day from now on. And I wish ye tae invite her tae dine with me in my solar this evening. I wish tae spend the evening with her. And, of course, as her personal guard, ye will be attending also.”

At these words, Arran felt physically ill. Not only was he to be Dahlia’s shadow, but he would be forced to watch her together with Bairre.

Ah yes. This will be Bairre’s special form of torment. He is forcing me tae attend while he sets about seducing Dahlia.

He found Dahlia in her solar staring into space, her embroidery hoop untouched beside her. At the sound of his entrance, she swung around, a smile lighting up her face.

The breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her. With the sole beam of light falling on her from the high set window she was glowing, her hair falling in a glorious cloud over her shoulders. He’d never seen anyone as beautiful. It took him moments before he could speak sensibly when all he wished to do was extoll her beauty and take her in his arms.

Instead, he managed a slight bow and composed his features into something resembling normality.

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