Page 116 of A Wife for the Highland Villain
“I cannae find yer man-at-arms, me Laird. He seems to have left the castle.”
Alasdair’s throat tightened, and he swallowed hard. He sat back for a moment, the words pressing on his chest.
Finn turned to him sharply. “Ye think he told his sister where he was going?”
Alasdair shrugged, his face unreadable. “There is only one way to find out.” He turned to the maid. “Fetch Sorcha from the wounded hall. Tell her to come here at once. It is urgent.”
The maid nodded and hurried out.
Alasdair lowered himself into a chair and dropped his head in his hands. Realization dawned on him, each piece clicking into place. His voice broke through the silence.
“Nathan. He kent I was going to the woods with Lily that afternoon. He asked me about it when I got back. I—oh God.”
Finn stepped forward. “What are ye saying?”
Alasdair rose again, his pacing quick and restless. “The cèilidh. I asked him to post more guards, and yet the intruders managed to get in. What if… what if they never snuck in at all? What if he just let them in because?—”
“Because he is the traitor,” Finn finished.
Thomas’s face paled, and he swallowed hard. “That is a serious accusation to make, Alasdair. Ye had better be sure this time around. Nathan served yer braither for years.”
“Aye,” Alasdair snapped. “And he always raves about how I do things differently from Jeremiah. What if—what if that angered him?”
Finn let out a long breath. “We cannae just assume he is the traitor because ye think he is angry.”
“I ken. I ken,” Alasdair said quickly, turning to Thomas. “He was the one who told me about ye. He said ye met with the men.”
Thomas stiffened. “Well, I never did.”
“So he lied?” Alasdair asked.
Thomas nodded. “He probably said it to cover his hide.”
Alasdair began to pace again, his boots striking the floor. His heart thudded in his chest, loud as drums.
How had he been so blind? Nathan, the man closest to him, the person he trusted the most in this clan. How had he never seen it?
Finn cleared his throat. “The things ye are saying are all well and good, but unless we have proof?—”
Alasdair rounded on him, his eyes blazing. “He slipped.”
Finn frowned. “What?”
“He slipped when he came to speak to me in the bath,” Alasdair elaborated. “I didnae think anything of it because he said his foot had fallen asleep and the floor is often wet anyway.”
Finn raised his eyebrows. “Aye, maybe it was?”
Alasdair shook his head fiercely. “Nay, ye daenae get it. Nathan has never done that before. He has crossed the threshold to the tub more times than I could count. He wouldnae stumble like that.”
Finn still looked unsure. “I still daenae understand what ye are saying.”
Alasdair exhaled hard. “The man who tried to kill Lily last night in her chamber… she stabbed him in the leg.”
Finn’s eyes went wide. “So the attacker…was Nathan.”
“Isnae that proof enough?” Alasdair roared, slamming his fists into the desk. His whole body shook with rage. “I will kill him! That bastard. What did I ever do to him to deserve this?”
Finn stepped toward him, his hands raised. “Calm yerself. We will handle this. But ye must keep yer temper?—”
