Page 17 of Seductive Scot
Rhys shook his head, regret settling on his face. “I don’t know. Yearger’s dead, and the cross he took from Aunt Grace is lost.”
Deirdre licked her lips, her mouth feeling very dry and her chest squeezing.
Yearger, Yearger, what more did you do?
And what else could she feel responsible for? A heaviness settled over her. “The cross ye are looking for,” she said, swallowing the hard lump in her throat, “what does it look like?”
“Silver,” Reikart said, “with round, raised balls on each end.”
Grief tore at her. Yearger had been involved in hurting others, in killing the king, and he’d done it out of a desperation that she too had felt. Why had he not talked to her? She would have given up everything, every coin left to her name, to keep their honor and their family intact.
Liar, a voice whispered.Ye were willing to wed yer sister to a man she did nae love. Ye were willing to accept a marriage forced upon ye in hopes of finding safety.
She swayed with her guilt, her remorse, and the unwavering knowledge that she’d been a fool. Tears pricked her eyes. As she blindly reached out for something to steady herself, her fingers made contact with hard, warm flesh.
“Why?” a voice—Rhys’s, she thought—asked from her left. But he sounded so very far away. The room was spinning, and she felt ill.
“I’m going to swoon,” she murmured. “Nay…” Reikart’s face appeared before hers, but there were two of him. “I refuse to swoon.” She glanced between the two versions of him. Suddenly, a hand came under her legs, and she was lifted off the ground. If she wasn’t mistaken, she was now pressed against his unrelenting chest.
“That’s what I like to hear, a woman who refuses to allow temporary weakness to overcome her,” he said as he strode toward the bench, cradling her in his arms.
He lowered her to the bench, and Rhys thrust a goblet at her. “Drink this.”
She reached for it, but her hand shook so much that she could not properly grasp the wine. Reikart’s fingers closed on top of hers like fire over ice. He helped her get the goblet to her lips, and then he tilted it for her slowly, his gaze searing her with its intensity. She drank the wine, welcoming the warm liquid as it slid down her throat and into her empty belly. It was only then that it occurred to her that she had not eaten anything in more than a day. Once the shaking stopped, she looked at the men surrounding her, all four of them now, and realized she had attracted the attention of her men, the Irvines, as well.
“Why did you ask about the cross?” Rhys whispered, crouching in front of her and displaying a softer side that relieved her. He had every right to be angry with her, and even guarded, if he believed she had betrayed Maggie, but it was also nice to see her sister’s new husband could be kind.
“Give her a minute to collect herself,” Reikart said. “She’s clearly shaken.”
“Or pretending to be, so we’ll be easier on her,” Rhys said, a wary look coming to his face.
“You’ve changed,” Reikart said.
“Yeah, and you’ll need to change, as well,” Rhys retorted, “if you intend to survive.” He swung his attention back to her. “The cross?” he asked again, pitching his voice low. “What do you know about it?”
“I saw it,” she said, clenching her fingers to curl her hands into fists as the shaking started again, but as she tried to do so, she met with warm flesh and gasped, looking down. She was grasping Reikart’s forearm, and underneath her fingertips, she could feel his muscles twitching.
“You saw it?” Reikart and Rhys asked as one.
She nodded. “Algien has it. He said…” She had to pause and think about what he had said exactly. “He said a man died because of the cross.” She stopped and had to swallow as her throat constricted with the need to cry. Her eyes burned, and she blinked, refusing to allow the tears to come. “He said that my brother had lowered his guard, and Grace MacKinnish hit him in the face with the cross. That’s how she escaped him,” Deirdre finished in a strangled voice.
Reikart and Rhys exchanged a long look, and she did not know why but she felt the need to tell them—especially Reikart, considering the way he’d tried to protect her from the others—that she was not as bad as they thought. “I…” She wanted to look down, ashamed, but she forced herself to look at Reikart. “I did nae know what my brother was involved in. I vow on my life.”
“And we’re supposed to take that vow?” Alastair scoffed.
“I do nae know,” she admitted, “but it’s all I have to give ye.” An idea was coming to her, though, one that could either redeem her or get her killed. The urge to laugh hysterically nearly overcame her. She bit down on her lip to stop it. She could not allow herself to crumble now.
“Ye may have more to give,” Alastair said, looking at her thoughtfully.
“What do you mean?” Rhys asked.
Looking into Alastair’s calculating gaze, Deirdre understood the man had come to the same realization she had, and he was more than willing to use her. It stung, but it was not unexpected.
“If Bellecote has the cross,” Alastair said, “and we do nae catch him, Lady Deirdre here may be our only hope of getting to Bellecote if he’s reached the English court. If that’s the case and if she’s as innocent of knowing what her brother was scheming as she claims, she can prove it with action and nae meaningless words.”
“I’m sure as hell not going to use this woman as bait to draw out a man who sounds dangerous,” Reikart said, glaring at Alastair.
She met Reikart’s hard gaze. “I appreciate yer concern for my well-being, but I do nae need yer permission. I need to do this. The baron will make his way back to the English court,” she said, positive she was correct. “The man is many things, but a fool is nae one of them.” As she waited for her words to sink in, she glanced around her. The men still waiting to pledge fealty to Rhys were shifting from foot to foot and casting increasingly curious looks toward the dais. “Algien does nae have need to go to yer home. He gave yer man,” she said, looking between Alastair and Dermot, “the coin to do his killing for him. Mark me, he will go to the English court. And ye are right, Alastair: I’ll be the only one able to get back the cross that ye all seem to want so much.” Though she could not fathom what was so important about a cross.
