Page 74 of Midnight Conquest

She waited, straining her ears. Silence.

Cautiously, she crept forward. A twig snapped, and she jolted, hand flying to her chest. She spun around, heart hammering.

A small deer darted into the trees.

Veronique exhaled hard, her pulse slowing. “Stupide,” she whispered, chiding herself.

Turning back to the shrubs, she caught the glimmer of amber light peeking through the leaves. She moved closer, curiosity igniting.

Concealed within the thickets was an entrance in the castle wall—intentionally placed, though hidden from plain view. A passageway.

She pressed herself against the stone, careful not to disturb the branches. Muffled voices floated from within. She hesitated, then slipped inside, brushing cobwebs from her sleeves. The passage led to the back of a stone building.

Rain barrels lined the exterior wall. Veronique ducked behind them, her breath shallow. Through the shutters, she glimpsed the straw-littered floor, rows of stalls, and leather harnesses hanging from pegs.

The stables.

“Nica!”

Veronique crouched low, heart thudding.

“What? You love it when I do that,” his voice teased.

Veronique narrowed her eyes and cursed under her breath. Nicabar and his hideous Scottish woman were in the hayloft, rutting like animals. After listening to their grunts of passion, she was more grateful than ever she hadn’t surrendered her virginity to him. Still, she needed to find a way to resolve this Davina problem.

Slipping around the stable to the side of the structure, Veronique pressed her ear to the rough wooden wall. Two minutes of panting, moaning, and laughter was more than enough.

She wantedinformation, not to bear witness to their carnal sport.

With a huff, she crept toward the far end of the stables. Across the courtyard lay a side door in the castle, three cats milling about near its threshold. A girl around her age emerged, balancing two sloshing buckets, a kerchief tied tightly over her hair.

“Shoo, now!” the girl chided, nudging the mewing animals aside as she waddled to the edge of the courtyard. One bucket at a time, she dumped the water into a stone-ringed drain covered by a rusting metal grate. “Go on, then! Cook’ll ‘ave your ‘ead if you dinnae scat,” she added, swatting at the cats again before stepping back inside.

Not two moments later, the door banged open, and a man stomped out of the castle, muttering under his breath. A ginger tabby darted past his legs, only to be swept up by a stout, gray-haired woman.

“Scat, ye rascal!” she snapped, tossing the cat back outside. She planted herself in the doorway, hands on hips and brow furrowed. “Quit yer gripin’, Seamus!”

The man stopped and turned back with a scowl. “This is the third trip this month! Third trip! How much honey can one person eat?”

The woman’s scowl softened, her voice gentling. “Ye ken honey’s all Mistress Davina has left to keep her brother’s memory alive.”

Seamus sighed. “Aye. I’ll bring it back wi’ me on the morrow.”

Veronique darted behind the stables, crouching near the water barrels to hide and edge closer to the secret passage. The loft above had fallen quiet. Soon after, Seamus rode off through the front gate.

Then, just as she reached the narrow opening in the stone wall, Nicabar and Rosselyn erupted in laughter again, their frolicking resuming in full force.

Veronique rolled her eyes and slipped into the passage.

As she wound her way back through the hidden corridor toward the forest, her steps grew lighter. A sly grin curved her lips. Her fists clenched with gleeful determination.

She knewexactlywhat to do about that Davina.

Chapter Thirteen

The frosty night air bit at Broderick’s face as he perched atop the slate roof of Davina’s castle, motionless save for the slow clench of his jaw. Below, the glen lay in hush, the wind threading through the trees like a whispered warning. But it wasn’t the chill that made him shiver.

It was her voice.

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