Page 54 of Highland Treasure (Highland Brides 9)

“Something’s bothering ye about what? Tom?” Alick asked with a frown.

“Nay.” He shook his head firmly, quite sure Tom had nothing to do with what was troubling him. But something was tickling at the back of his mind. He just couldn’t seem to grasp it yet and needed time to consider everything that had happened. Lifting his head, he met Alick’s gaze and said, “I’m thinking ’tis best to let everyone think she’s at death’s door. If one o’ de Buci’s men is sniffing about and hears she’s dying it might prevent another attempt and keep her safe until we can sort this out or get her to Buchanan.”

“Buchanan?” Alick asked with surprise. “I thought we were headed to Sinclair?”

“Aye. Well, Buchanan is closer. A little more than two days’ ride compared to more than two weeks to Sinclair,” Rory pointed out grimly. Much as he hated to admit it, he feared he was going to fail at the task he’d promised to perform. Now, his main concern was keeping Elysande alive. “We’ll never get her to Sinclair alive with de Buci’s men hounding us. But we could take her to Buchanan and send a messenger to Sinclair. Then Cam could come to her at Buchanan, and take care of getting the message to the English king.”

“Hmm.” Alick considered that and then shook his head. “I suspect she’ll fight ye on that. The lass is determined to fulfill her mother’s last wish.”

“Her mother wanted her safe,” Rory countered firmly. “She would be safe at Buchanan.”

“Aye, well, just do no’ be surprised if Elysande leaves us behind to head fer Sinclair on her own,” Alick warned, and then smiled wryly and added, “Or mayhap she’ll head fer court instead, to deliver the warning to her king personally. But either way, I’m thinking she’ll not sit idly by at Buchanan, safe or no’.”

Rory didn’t comment, but suspected his brother was right. Elysande would not be happy to simply go to Buchanan and wait safely there for Sinclair to come to her. Especially not when they were under such a tight time constraint to get the warning to the king. That meant he’d have to come up with another solution, Rory thought grimly as he finished binding her and eased her back on the bed.

He turned his attention to cleaning her head wound then, his mind preoccupied with the more immediate concern of keeping her safe while they were at the inn, and after a moment, he said, “I want either you, or I, with Elysande at all times from now on.”

He was aware that Alick was watching him with a troubled glance, and wasn’t surprised when he said, “None o’ our men would hurt her.”

“I ken that,” Rory assured him.

“Well, neither would Simon or Tom,” he added. “She would no’ even be alive if no’ fer them.”

“I ken that too,” Rory said. “But she can order Simon and Tom away as she did today, and while I trust all our men, I trust ye more.”

Alick seemed to accept that and didn’t question him further.

Rory finished cleaning the head wound, relieved to see that, as he’d suspected, it was more bluster than wound. Still, she had a bump and a cut from where she’d hit the edge of the stone hearth of the fireplace. Elysande would have a sore head when she woke up, and despite what he’d said to Tom, he was pretty sure she would wake up. While she hadn’t woken as he’d sewn her up, she had twitched a couple times, as if struggling to wake.

“Does she really need her head wrapped?” Alick asked when Rory finished smearing salve on the wound and picked up the linens to start wrapping her head.

Rory shrugged. “’Tis best in case some of the powder did get on the bed and fell off the furs when ye folded them up. The bandage will keep it from her wound.” He didn’t add that it would make her look more poorly than he thought she really was, and he wanted that. He was hoping that if they let everyone think she was on the brink of dying, it would delay another attempt on her life long enough for him to figure out a way to either get her safely to Sinclair, and quickly, or alternately, get her safely to court to give the king her mother’s messages.

Once he finished wrapping her head, Rory straightened to peer at Elysande. Alick had tugged the linens up to cover her bandaged chest, but she still looked pale and weak in the bed, her skin whiter than the off-white bandage and linens covering her head. After a minute, he glanced to Alick and said, “Ye did no’ finish yer nooning meal before I ordered ye up here to guard the lass earlier. Go on down, rinse yer boots off and get something to eat. If the men ask how she is, just shake yer head and say it does no’ look good.”

Alick considered him briefly, and then nodded and headed for the door, promising to be quick.

Rory eyed Elysande for another moment, and then glanced around the room. She’d obviously been at the table by the fire, grinding the weeds, when she was attacked. Either she’d bumped the table trying to avoid being stabbed and that had knocked the mortar to the floor, or her hand or something else had hit it and sent it tumbling. He suspected she’d bumped it as she’d tried to get out of the way of the knife coming at her, because she’d fallen several steps past the table and spilled powder, and closer to the fire.

That made him recall her hand being in the ashes of the fireplace and Rory picked it up now to examine it, but the ash from the fire prevented his seeing much. Grabbing the damp linen he’d used to wash the blood from her head and chest, he rinsed it, wrung it out and then wiped the ash away from her hand and fingers. Much to his relief, her fingers were a little red and dry, but there was no blistering or scorching. She hadn’t suffered more of a burn than one got by being out too long in the sun.

Sighing, he set her hand back and then glanced to the door when it opened. When Tom entered with a mop and bucket, he slid off the bed and walked over to move the table back to the other side of the bed. He then returned for the chair and carried it over to set up against the wall.

“No one was seen coming or going through the kitchens and the servants’ stairs,” Tom said glumly as he began to mop the floor.

Rory straightened from setting the chair down and then moved to the window and opened the shutters, wincing at the loud screech it made. He leaned out then to peer down. He could see the stables to his left, but the area directly below was open and unused. Unfortunately, while snow had been falling when they arrived the night before, it hadn’t stuck around and there was nothing but grass below. No nice prints in mud or snow for him to follow. He’d take a closer look when he went down to rinse off his own boots though.

Rory closed the shutters, grimacing at the loud sound it made, and then paused briefly before opening them again, bringing about another squeal of protesting metal.

“He couldn’t have come in the window. Lady Elysande would have heard him and been able to run out of the room before he climbed in,” Tom commented, saying what Rory was thinking.

“Aye. But he could have escaped this way. We would no’ ha’e heard their squeal below,” Rory murmured, and closed the shutters again and then turned to survey the room thoughtfully.

“So,” Tom said, dipping the mop in the bucket and then pulling it out to sweep it across the floor. “Her attacker came up either the front stairs or the servants’ stairs unnoticed, attacked m’lady and then panicked and went out the window because she screamed and he knew we would come.”

“Or he fled out the window when he heard us pounding up the stairs, or Simon running up the hall,” Rory suggested, and paused to consider his own words.

“But how did he get up here without anyone in the kitchens or the taproom seeing?” Tom asked in a frustrated growl.

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