Page 22 of Bride of the Beastly Laird

“Och, mayhap me belly is nae well after the long ride.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Oh? Methinks ye had rested well enough. Did ye nae break yer journey last night?”

Her stomach lurched. This was the moment she’d been dreading.

Now he will question me about the journey.

Resisting the urge to glance at Arran and wishing she knew what he may have told Bairre about last night and this morning, she smiled faintly.

“Indeed, me laird. While Arran Mackinnon lay injured in the house of an ancient healer-woman, I spent the night on a peasant’s hard earthen floor.”

Bairre nodded, a glimmer of suspicion twisting his mouth. She guessed her story was not too far distant from what he’d been told by Arran.

“And, pray, what injury did Arran sustain and how did it come about?”

She sucked in a breath at the ugly glint in her so-called fiancée’s cold eyes. She knew at once, regardless of his fine manners and the newly decorated castle, that Laird Bairre Mackinnon had not changed. He was every bit as cruel and dangerous as his brother James had been.

She must think carefully about whatever explanation she made for their delay.

“Arran rushed tae rescue a poor man who’d fallen from his roof and was trapped under a heavy beam. While he was releasing the man’s crushed legs, a further section of the roof collapsed, dealing Arran a mighty blow tae his back, rendering him senseless fer quite some time.”

“Hmm,” Bairre took in this information while Dahlia prayed silently it would be sufficient to calm his suspicions.

“Yet, ye were little more than an hour’s ride from the castle. Why didnae ye ride on after he recovered his senses?”

“Arran wasnae in a fit state tae ride. His wound was deep and bleeding freely. The blood flow had to be staunched and then the injury needed stitching by the healer. We made a slow start this morning as Elspaith, the healer, insisted on placing a new dressing on the wound before we could travel.”

“In which village would I find this healer?”

“Is this an interrogation, me laird?” Dahlia could feel her blood boiling and couldn’t help but spit the words at Bairre.

“Of course nae, melady. ‘Tis a simple question.”

“’Twas nae a village but a small group of cottages. Mayhap nae more than four or five clustered together, about an hour’s ride tae the north.”

She held her breath. Would Bairre send one of his scouts to find Elspaith and the others, seeking to verify this story?Bastard.

He nodded slowly. “It seems I have nay option but tae believe yer story, me Lady Dahlia. Although I’m nae happy ye spent the night in the company of Arran Mackinnon. Regardless of his injury.”

“Please…” she felt her cheeks burning at his audacious words. “D’ye wish tae insult me Laird Bairre? I speak truth and ’tis unseemly fer ye tae disbelieve me.”

At once he shot her a smile and patted her hand. She wanted to slap him with it for feeling free to touch her without her consent. “Dinnae fash, melady. Of course I believe yer tale.”

Dahlia allowed herself to breathe again. Yet, despite, Bairre’s reassuring words, his smile did not reach his eyes and she was left uncertain as to whether he’d been convinced by her story. It came as a great relief when a tall man appeared beside them, seeking Bairre’s attention.

She recognized him as one of the scouts who had met them on the road earlier.

After the man had whispered a few words in his ear he got to his feet, grim-faced, excused himself from her company and followed the man. As he passed Arran, he reached over, tapped him on the shoulder and gestured for him to accompany them.

Arran shot her a concerned look as he rose to his feet.

Had Bairre’s scout been sent tae seek out Elspaith? Was he reporting back to Bairre?

She could hardly breathe as the three men disappeared along a small passage leading from the hall. Moments later she got to her feet, determined to follow.

Fortunately, amid the feasting, the surge of activity in the hall and the music of the troubadours, she went almost unnoticed. Only one head turned in her direction as she rose. Craig Donald looked up from his meal and drew his brows in a puzzled frown.

She paused briefly as she passed by him. “I am needing tae relieve meself,” she said in a hushed tone.

---