Page 70 of Sweet Home Highlander
“I’m sure she’s somewhere, and safe,” Aisla said, distracted by her rioting instincts. “It’s possible you missed each other.”
Julien shook his head. “I’d hoped she would be here. I’ll return to Maclaren, and check the stables.”
He gave Aisla’s arm a light touch as he passed by her, toward the door. His worry was palpable, and the more she thought of Fenella’s mention of Lady Makenna, the more concerned she became as well. She left the bedchamber on Julien’s heels and headed straight for the kitchens. Mrs. Wingate and a few maids were already at work, and Fenella was pouring herself a cup of tea. She saw Aisla and scowled.
“Why are ye still here?”
“You said you also spoke to Dougal about Lady Makenna, the laird’s sister,” Aisla said, finished with petty insults. Fenella set her cup down, splashing tea, and cut her eyes to the cook and maids. They left the kitchens without a word.
“Aye. What of it?”
Aisla’s eyes narrowed. “What did he wish to know about her specifically? And be honest or I go straight to the laird with what I know about the two of you.”
“Silly things, I told ye,” she replied with a sullen look. “Her pastimes, what ladies did for enjoyment at Maclaren and at Tarbendale.”
What felt like iron ballast settled in the pit of Aisla’s chest. “Would you have mentioned that Lady Makenna enjoys early morning rides to the border?”
“Mayhap. Why do ye ask?”
“Lady Makenna has not returned from her ride, and her maid hasn’t seen hide nor hair of her for hours. She’s missing, Fenella. Did Dougal have something to do with it?”
Fenella’s posture went rigid. “He would no’ do that.”
“If he’s allied with the Campbells, he might have.” Ice settled in Aisla’s chest, and a premonition that Makenna may be in danger. “And the accidents at the mine have claimed lives and cost Niall dearly,” Aisla went on, her mind racing. “Did you tell him about the mines?”
For the first time, the housekeeper looked uncertain as if the gravity of the possibility seemed to settle on her. “We talked about a lot of things. He…listened.” Her shoulders lifted in a tiny shrug. “At first, he was a means to an end, but I was lonely, and he was easy to talk to. I was proud of what the laird had accomplished.” The housekeeper sat heavily down in a chair, looking flustered. “I would never put my own clansmen and women in danger.”
“Not knowingly, I’m sure, but Dougal wasn’t acting selflessly. He could very well have been using you to hurt Niall.” Aisla knew she didn’t owe the woman anything, but she gentled her voice. “He can be quite charming when he wants.”
Fenella shook her head, but didn’t argue this time.
“Lord Leclerc is looking for Makenna,” Aisla said, starting away, “and I need to find Niall to tell him what I suspect.”
Fenella leaped from the chair. “I’ll go with ye. He’d be at the mines or at Maclaren.”
“I’ll be fine on my own.”
“If ye’re right, if I’ve been a part of it…I owe it to him to tell him myself.”
There wasn’t time to quibble or belabor the fact that she didn’t trust the housekeeper one inch, but more ground could be covered by two people. Aisla gave a short nod and marched down to the stables.
“Has the laird returned yet?” she asked a stable boy.
“Nae, milady,” he replied. Aisla wasn’t surprised. Niall might spend hours riding around, avoiding her.
“Saddle two mounts for us, please,” she said, and within minutes she and Fenella were riding from the stables, on a route toward the mines. Aisla kept praying that meanwhile, Julien had discovered Makenna somewhere. She hoped her feeling of foreboding was nothing more than her imagination.
The horses took them breezing through the fields and up into the woods, where Makenna had led her that time when first showing her the mines. When she and Fenella broke through the trees and onto the clearing atop the ridge, Aisla expected to see the mine workers, busy at the start of their day. But instead, the stone mining shafts and outbuildings stood quiet and tranquil on the ridge. Not a soul in sight. A flutter of unease went through her.
“’Tis Sunday,” Fenella said, the first words uttered since leaving the keep.
The workers would be home with their families. Aisla urged her mount onward, toward the collection of huts and tower houses on the hilltop, and brought her horse to a stop near the long troughs where the miners sifted through the rubble for chunks of topaz deposits. There was no sign of a horse, or of anyone. Perhaps Niall had gone to Maclaren. In the past, he would have been at the tavern in the village, but he wasn’t that man anymore.
“What are ye doing here?”
Aisla heard Fenella’s question and turned to look at her, ready to reply that it had beenheridea to check the mines to begin with. But what she saw sent a spike of alarm down her spine.
Dougal Buchanan had exited the closest tower house, a small barrel in his hands and a long length of what looked like rope. He set the barrel down carefully, but kept hold of the rope.
