Page 8 of Fragile Oath

My proclamation didn’t come as a surprise to anyone in the room if their resigned expressions were anything to go by, though the frustration in my uncle’s tone was very clear when he spoke.

“Do you have any idea how that will look?” He was using his Captain of the Guard voice. “You running away during a murder inquiry?”

I took a dreg from my glass before shrugging with all the indifference I didn’t feel.

“Probably about as bad as it will look if my fiancée turns up dead trying to escape Lithlinglau.”

A stilted silence filled the room. There was nothing he could say to argue that, not when we all knew just how true the statement was.

“She may be willing to risk her life, but I’m not willing to risk what it will do to Lochlann and Socair if something happens to her here.” I swallowed hard, wondering if they knew that was only half the reason I needed her safe. No one called me on it, though the sympathy in my father’s eyes almost made me wish he would.

“Besides,” I added a moment later. “I have my own spies, and they won’t talk to anyone else. This is the fastest way to ensure her safety.”

Uncle Finn groaned, running a hand over his face. “Fine,” he relented after a moment. “You have until the end of next week, but then I expect you back here. This Tavish situation isn’t just going to go away, but we can deal with it then if we must.”

* * *

It was quickly decidedthat my cousins would come with me, which was a mixed bag considering Gwyn’s feelings about Galina. At least between her strength and speed, and Gal’s ability to heal, I had a veritable army at my side.

There was no one else I would want next to me in a battle — or whatever this was. It didn’t hurt that we were taking six trusted soldiers with us, giving us a bit of strength in numbers, should we need them.

Though every hour we delayed pricked at the edges of my nerves, we left the estate well after dark to avoid the prying eyes of the remaining guests.

Or so I thought.

“Laird Davin,” a familiar voice purred from the garden, stopping me in my tracks.

When I had entered the aviary, the grounds had been empty, but now I found myself face to face with Fiona Shaw. She wore a heavy cloak draped over her nightdress, and though her hood was pulled low, I would recognize the sharp lines of her face and the pitch of her voice anywhere.

I glanced around to see if anyone else was waiting in the shadows. Knowing Fiona, she wasn’t likely to be alone. Not for long, anyway. But when I saw no sign of anyone, my gaze flicked back to her, wondering just how calculated this meeting was.

Her head tilted toward the sky as the sound of wings flapped above us. Seven birds were headed to my spies in the north, asking them to keep an eye out for someone of Galina’s description. An eighth bird was on its way to my uncle in Chridhe.

Fiona’s lips pursed in question, her gaze flitting from the birds back to my face. She twirled her loose raven locks around a long, delicate finger, studying my face for a long moment.

“Wherever could you be going at this hour?” she asked coyly, stretching her free hand out to run along my chest.

“Dealing with a personal matter.” I smiled tightly, stepping away from her touch and toward the stables.

Fiona glanced behind me, her gaze settling on the cloaked figures already waiting for me on their own horses.

“Might this have anything to do with your supposed role in your cousin’s murder?” she asked with all the innocence of a ravenous panther.

She shouldn’t know that. No one should know that the magistrate wanted to blame me for his death… But of course, Fiona had always had a way of getting the information she wanted.

I suppressed a gag as the unwanted image of her and the man three times her age came to mind.

“I had nothing to do with his murder,” I finally said. I wouldn’t confirm what she thought she knew, but I could at the very least try to clear my name. “Now, if you don’t mind, Lady Galina is waiting for me to catch up.”

May as well let Fiona use her gossip network to spread the excuse for our absence.

She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, mischief lining her features as she closed the distance between us. The heady scent of her amber perfume filled my lungs, and it took everything in me not to shove her away.

“I think you and I both know that Galina is not on a social visit to Chridhe.” She whispered the words into my ear before stepping back again. “Nor waiting for you to catch up to her.”

Damn her.That confirmed at least part of where she got her information. I hadn’t told anyone besides Ward that Galina was on her way to Chridhe.

She knew more than that, though. If she knew Galina had fled, was it because she had been responsible? Had she said something to scare Galina off? Was history doomed to repeat itself? First the maid in Socair, now Fiona.

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