Page 85 of Hard-Hearted Highlander
“I didn’t ask you,” Charles said.
The man grinned, showing the absence of a pair of teeth, then fixed his gaze on Bernadette. “Well, then, here you are, lass. No’ lost at all.” He deliberately moved his eyes down her body to her slippers and back up again, as Bernadette worked to suppress a strong shiver of revulsion.
He grinned again, then walked on, following the other man inside.
“What does he mean, ‘you’re not lost’?” Charles asked gruffly.
“I met him on the path by the sea one day,” Bernadette said. “I thought he was only passing by.”
“No,” Charles said. “These are the men that ride up on the hill to have a look at Killeaven. Let’s see what they’re about.”
Bernadette and Charles followed the two men inside, then stood stiffly by as the two of them roamed about the house as if they were owners here, remarking to each other in Gaelic as they pointed at this and that. When they had apparently satisfied themselves with the tour, they returned to the foyer.
Bhaltair Buchanan paused, and his eyes drifted to Bernadette. “Are you part and parcel of the property, then?”
Charles immediately moved forward to stand in front of Bernadette. “We take our leave in four days, sir,” he said. “You may have entry then.”
The man’s gap-toothed smile was cold. He nodded at the younger one, who opened the front door. “We’ll come back when we please and toss out any rubbish that remains, aye?” His gaze slid to Bernadette again. “Or find a new use for it...if Mackenzie hasna done it first.”
Bernadette’s heart climbed to her throat.
“Good day,” Charles said briskly, and gestured for them to carry on outside.
He followed them out on to the path, standing before the door with his legs braced apart until the men had disappeared from view. Only then did he turn back to Bernadette. “I don’t trust them.”
“No,” she said. She was shaking, she realized.
“We should send to Balhaire for help,” he said, his expression stern. “I don’t trust them and we have no means of protecting ourselves. You know how they feel about Englishmen here.” He walked into the house, calling for Ina. When she appeared, he said, “Fetch me one of the stable boys. Tell them to be ready to ride.”
“No, wait,” Bernadette said. “You’re right, we should send for help. But I’ll go.”
Charles hesitated.
“At least the Mackenzies know who I am. They won’t know a stable hand and they’d not give him an audience with the laird.”
“You’re right,” Charles said, nodding. “Then go. Take one of the stable boys with you and make haste. None of your meandering walks.”
“No, of course not,” she agreed, and went in search of her boots.
She and the young stable boy arrived at Balhaire a little more than an hour later. She walked up the high road and into the bailey, and pushed through a gathering of dogs wanting a good sniff of her boots. She went to the massive entry door and used the door knocker several times before it finally opened.
Frang, the dour butler, stared down his nose at her. “Aye?”
“Good afternoon,” she said.
Frang did not respond.
“I’ve come with an important message for Lady Mackenzie. Will you please announce me?”
“The lady is away from Balhaire,” he said.
Bernadette felt a tiny tic of panic. “What of Miss Mackenzie?” she asked.
“Aye, gone too,” Frang said.
Bernadette swallowed down her pride. “Please, sir, is there someone I might speak to? It’s really rather important—”
“No. None of them here, aye?”
