Page 52 of Bride of the Beastly Laird

“And did ye nay care a jot fer the snow and wind?”

“Nay. When we were out in winter, we’d hunt and roast a rabbit or a young deer over the fire in the bothy.”

“The bothy?” She was instantly alert. If only she could find out where this bothy was.

He looked up sharply. Had she said too much? Was she arousing his suspicious by asking too many questions? Of course, it made sense that the brothers would have found shelter. Bold as they most clearly were, they were not so bold as to brave the icy Highland winters without shelter.

Now, if she could only ascertain where exactly this sheltering bothy was to be found.

He poured himself another round of mead and took a deep draught. His eyes were beginning to glaze over but he suddenly snapped awake.

“Why are ye all at once so interested in me boyhood adventures?” This was accompanied by a snarl.

Too late, it dawned on her that drinking an excess of mead would lead Bairre to more suspicion, not less. His formerly benignmood had vanished along with his smile and he was now eyeing her with what could only be considered a reproof.

Much as she wished to continue the line of conversation, she made a quick decision to change the subject.

“The weather has been blissful, melord, but I dae believe we may be in fer a little rain shortly.” She gazed up at the now cloudy sky and held out a hand as if anticipating a drop of rain.

It was enough to distract Bairre, who rose to his feet abruptly, turned without a further word to her and headed toward the entrance, leaving Dahlia somewhat frustrated, with two empty flagons which had once held mead. She had not anticipated that his mood would turn frosty when he’d been mellow enough to start with.

She had the distinct feeling she had been on the brink of making a discovery. At least, now, she was aware that there was a hideaway in the hills and even if Bairre was loath to reveal exactly where it might be there were sure to be some older castle servants who would be aware of where the two lads had spent so much time.

When Beattie came to collect her and her things, she asked her if there were any among the servants whose memory of those days would still serve them well.

“Aye, melady. I remember when the laird was a youngster and he and his braither would disappear fer days on end. It set all the guard in a tizz searching fer them. Why, me cousin Nicol was amember of the guard back then and he’s still on duty at the gate these days.”

“Would it be possible fer me tae speak with him? I’d prefer he came tae me chamber – with yersel’ present of course – and that our conversing was nae mentioned tae the laird.”

Beattie looked at her curiously but nodded. “I’ll ask him, melady.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ensconced in the solar once again, while Beattie was absent finding vases for the mountain of roses she’d picked, Dahlia was anxious for the time to pass. Her thoughts were of Arran and his concealment within the castle. She was aware that could only be a temporary situation. But what would happen once Bairre realized his attempt on Arran’s life had failed? Would he be so bold as to make yet another attempt?

There was still no word from her brother, the Laird Haldor, with the longed-for reprieve from her betrothal. And time was running out. She spent the afternoon in a lather of consternation praying that Beattie would bring her cousin Nicol to her chamber this evening and mayhap he could enlighten her to the whereabouts of the mysterious bothy. The more she thought about it the more she was convinced this was where Bairre was hiding Emilia. After all, Arran had searched high and low with no sign of Emilia. It was clear she must be a great distance from the castle.

At last Beattie appeared. “’Tis good news, melady. Nicol is on duty until close tae midnight. He will come tae yer chamber after he leaves his shift. Nae one will be aware of it.”

Dahlia could hardly suppress her excitement. She longed to see Arran to let him know she may have a clue to his mother’s whereabouts. She took an early supper and then, declaring herself to be tired out, retired to her chamber.

Beattie was waiting for her having filled the room with bowls and vases containing roses. The air was filled with their delicate fragrance but Dahlia was hardly able to enjoy it for she was jumping out of her skin, counting down the hours until Nicol would join them.

Not long before midnight there was a knock at the door and both Beattie and Dahlia jumped nervously. When Beattie opened, however, it was not Nicol waiting there but one of the kitchen-under-maids, a small girl, who looked uneasy and could scarcely find her voice to speak.

“I’ve brought this message from melord Arran.” She was out of breath, twisting the striped hem of her pinafore between her fingers. She took a deep breath rolling her eyes with the effort of recalling the message she’d been charged with.

Dahlia waited impatiently for the child to gather her wits.

“Please ask the lady Dahlia tae pay a visit tae the village with her lady’s maid tomorrow tae gather strewing herbs fer her room.”

“And that is all there is?”

The child nodded nervously. Dahlia had expected Arran would have named a place and time for them to meet. Instead, there was nothing save for an odd message about herbs.

Dahlia glanced at Beattie who extracted a small coin from her purse and handed it to the child. The girl pocketed it, turned on her heel and fled out the door at high speed without another word.

At least with this brief message from Arran, it seemed her prayers that he’d gone undetected during his long sojourn within the passageways of the castle had been answered.

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