Highland Thief by Alyson McLayne

Nine

Kerr watched Isobel disappear down the circular stairwell, her candle in her hand, the bright curls that had escaped her plaid hanging in disarray past her waist.

His jaws were clamped so tightly together, he didn’t know if he could ever open them again. Surely his teeth had fused together. He held onto his control with the smallest thread—any more pressure would snap it in two.

She’d been wrong when she’d said he wasn’t a monster. He’d come from a family of monsters, and their blood coursed through his veins. Right now he felt like tearing into living flesh and bone. In particular the man with whom she was, or perhaps wasn’t, running away with.

He heard her footsteps fade, and then waited another minute, counting down from sixty in his head. When he finally reached zero, he stepped through the open door and into the darkened stairwell. He didn’t bother with a candle, even though darkness enclosed him. He liked the darkness. He chose it.

His feet barely skimmed the stairs as he ran downward, his hand on the wall helping him balance, his mind counting once more with every step. When he reached the level where Gavin and Deirdre’s bedchamber was located, he stepped out into the lit passageway and strode to Gavin’s door, not caring one whit whether he was disturbing him and Deirdre or not.

He pounded hard on the wood—three quick knocks, a pause, and then two slow, so Gavin knew it was him and to hurry.

Still, it seemed to take forever.

He was about to knock again, when he heard the bar slide back. The door yanked open and Gavin stood there in his thigh-length shirt and nothing else, his hair mussed and a glower on his face. He blocked Kerr’s view into the room and most likely had a sword in his hand on the other side of the door to be safe.

No one had the luxury of being careless anymore—even in their own castle.

“This had better be good,” Gavin gritted through his teeth.

“’Tis about Isobel. Meet me in your solar.” Kerr turned on his heel and continued down the passageway. Behind him, the door hinges squeaked. He assumed Gavin had stepped into the hall.

“God’s blood, I’m a little busy right now!” his foster brother yelled.

“I doona care,” Kerr yelled back.

He continued to march toward the end of the passageway while Gavin cursed behind him before the bedchamber door thudded shut. Kerr expected his brother was dressing and kissing his wife goodbye.

He felt ornery enough to hope he’d caught Gavin at the worst possible moment.

When he reached the laird’s solar, Kerr fished out his key, unlocked the door, and stepped into the room. The wooden shutters were already open, letting in the daylight. He crossed to the hearth, crouched in front of it, and layered the tinder with the kindling. After grabbing the fire striker and flint from the mantel, he set the wood aflame. He was adding more logs to it when Gavin stormed in.

“I’m here. What is it?” his foster brother asked as he strode across the wool rug toward his desk.

“Isobel has ordered me to leave Clan MacKinnon in two days. She said that she may be leaving as well…with another man.”

Gavin spun toward him. “What?”

Kerr rose, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She implied that she’s been hiding her true feelings from us for some time.”

Gavin snorted. “That doesn’t sound like my sister. Who is this man?”

“I doona know.”

“Is he a MacKinnon? Where did she meet him and when?”

“I doona know that either.”

“Well, what do you know?”

Kerr sucked in a deep, tense breath and tried to release his anger and fear, his worry that he’d lost Isobel for good, but it didn’t work. “Not much.” He let out a dark growl. “God’s blood, I am not prone to words right now. ’Tis my fists that want to do the talking, and according to Isobel, that’s part of the problem.”

Gavin sat down heavily behind the desk, facing him. “She’s right, Kerr. You canna threaten every man who shows an interest in her.”

“And when exactly have I done that? O’er the winter when I’m not here? O’er the spring and summer when I’ve been away fighting battles with my allies? Besides, if a suitor willna stand up to a threatening stance or glare from me, then they’re not good enough for my Isobel. Would you have let someone bigger than you or stronger than you keep you from Deirdre? Nay, you would have died to get to her.”

Gavin shoved his fingers through his hair and released a pent-up breath. “It doesn’t matter what you think or what I think. It only matters what Isobel thinks, and if she wants to be with a man who willna lay down his life for her, then that is her mistake to make.”

Kerr made a disparaging sound in the back of his throat. “You doona believe that any more than I do. You would step in.”

Gavin grunted. “Probably. But Deirdre’s been impressing upon me that Isobel can make her own choices—as my mother wanted. How would you feel if the situation were reversed?”

“Pretty damned good.” But he knew that wasn’t true.

How would I feel? Trapped. Controlled. Like my mother.

A wave of doubt hit him, crushing him from the inside until he could barely breathe.

His father had been a monster. His uncles and cousins had been monsters. They’d beaten down his entire clan for generations.

And I’m one of them.

Shame slithered through his belly, and he swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat. With heavy strides, he crossed to the chair in front of the desk and slumped into it. “Maybe ’tis for the best. My blood is bad.”

Gavin made an exasperated sound. “Christ Almighty, doona start that again. You are not your father, Kerr. You doona rape or torture or kill people for your own pleasure. You kill to protect people, which is why you killed your father. And you didn’t stab him from behind. Nay, you waited until he attacked you—still just a lad. A big one, aye, but not the brute you are today. And now look at the health and prosperity of your clan. You’re a good man, with good blood. Your mother’s blood.”

Pain welled inside of Kerr at the mention of his mother—her soft, sweet voice and gentle hands, her kind words and loving heart—and he leaned his head heavily in his hands. “If only he’d left her alive long enough so I could protect her too.”

He heard Gavin’s chair scrape back, and then his foster brother leaned across the desk and laid his hand gently upon Kerr’s head. “Aye, Brother,” he said softly. They stayed like that for a moment before Kerr lifted his head. Gavin pulled his hand away and sat back. “Now, tell me exactly what my sister said so we can figure out what to do. If we push her too hard, she’ll run to this other man to spite us—and that canna happen with our enemies in our midst.”

Kerr scraped his nails through his beard as he thought back on their conversation. “She was vague at best. She said she had plans that didn’t include me and that she may, or may not, be leaving soon—with someone else. She insinuated she’s been seeing this man in secret, and that I forced her to hide their…courtship.”

Gavin snorted. “And you believed her? Isobel could no more keep something like this quiet than Ewan could.”

“She might if she thought I would kill the man.”

“Would you?”

Kerr sighed. “Not if she truly loved him and he loved her…but if I thought he was using her or had hurt her in some way—aye, in a heartbeat.”

“As would I,” Gavin said. “Or at least banish him from my land on threat of death.”

“We canna let her run off, it isna safe. We have to do something.”

“Are you sure she isna tricking you? If it’s a secret, and if she’s worried you’ll hurt this man, then why would she tell you about him?”

Kerr’s shoulders sagged. “Because I asked her to marry me.”

Gavin’s head jerked up. “You did?”

“Aye.”

“Well, what did she say?”

Kerr sat back in his chair. “She said naught at first. I could see she was conflicted and confused. And defiant, of course. But ’twas good to put into words what’s between us. She needed to hear them, and I needed to say them.”

“Aye, ’tis good to be direct. Hopefully, she’ll come around.”

Kerr’s brow raised. “Did you not hear a word I said? She isna planning to come around, she’s planning to elope with someone we’ve ne’er met.”

“I heard you, but…”

“But what?” he asked, exasperated by Gavin’s hesitancy.

“If she has truly chosen someone other than you, if she truly loves that person, then we have to accept it.”

“Bah! She doesn’t love him—whoever he is.”

“I agree. I suspect my sister is up to one of her tricks again. Doona give up on her, Kerr.”

“I’m not going to, but she’s told me to vacate your home in two days. If I canna convince her to marry me by then, I’ll not see her again until spring. ’Tis too long, Gavin. We need time together, so I can court her and break through her walls. I doona want to be alone this winter, and I canna woo her from a distance.”

“I’ll speak to her. You can stay here for as long as you like.”

He shook his head regretfully. “Nay, you canna override her on this. It will not work in my favor.” Kerr squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I need more time.”

“What are you thinking?”

He shrugged. “Maybe you shouldn’t know.”

Gavin shot him a hard look, and Kerr raised his hand to waylay any protests, then continued. “If she is planning to run off as a way to get back at me—at us—then I need to act quickly. I’ve lost too much time already. And there’s something wedged between us—not a man, something else. I need to unearth it and that willna be easy. Isobel will resist.” He raised his eyes to Gavin’s. “We need time alone.”

Gavin’s face turned dark. “You will not take advantage of her, Kerr. You will be married, with her consent, before you bed her, or I will have your head.”

“I wouldnae do that, and you know it. I will ne’er be with your sister in that way until she is my wife.” He shot Gavin his own dark look. “Not like you had planned to be with my cousin before you married her.”

Guilt etched Gavin’s face, and he slumped back in his chair. “Aye, you have a point. But the situation between Deirdre and me was different.”

Kerr grunted, unwilling to concede the point. “That doesn’t change the fact that you have no moral high ground on which to stand. ’Tis fortunate I still have mine.”

Gavin muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “ablach.”

They sat in silence, each lost to their thoughts, and then Gavin asked, “Do you want me to speak to her?”

“Aye, and Deirdre too. We need as much information as we can get. But doona come across too strong. She’ll only dig her heels in. And doona tell her she has to let me stay. ’Tis her home, not mine. If I am truly unwelcome, I willna remain.”

***

The knock on her bedchamber door startled Isobel. She jumped up from her desk and quickly shoved her papers under the pillows on her bed.

Deirdre’s voice came through the door. “Isobel, are you in there?”

She crossed the wool rug that covered the stone floor and opened the door.

Her sister-in-law stood in the hallway with her hair mussed and her cheeks flushed.

It looked like Gavin had been pulled away unexpectedly—by Kerr, no doubt.

Things were already going to plan.

“What’s going on?” Deirdre asked.

Isobel tugged her inside, cast a quick glance into the empty passageway, and then closed and re-barred the door. When she turned around, Deirdre had crossed the room and was perusing the blank parchments on her desk.

“What do you mean what’s going on?” Isobel asked as she joined her friend.

“Kerr pounded on our door a few minutes ago and dragged Gavin away. It must have been important or Gavin would ne’er have left—certainly not at that moment.”

Isobel smirked. “Why? What were you doing?”

“Geometry,” Deirdre said, and they both laughed. “What have you done now?”

“What makes you think I’ve done anything?”

Deirdre shot her a look, and Isobel sighed. “Fine. I have done something. But I canna tell you what it is.”

“Why not?”

“’Tis a secret.”

Deirdre’s face fell. “Doona you trust me?”

“Of course I do! But if your husband, who is also your laird, demands you tell him where I am, and impresses upon you that I might be in danger, then you would be hard-pressed not to tell. If you doona know, you willna be caught in the middle.”

Deirdre’s eyes widened. “Where are you going, and what danger? Och, love, what have you gotten yourself into?”

Guilt swamped Isobel. She’d been pondering how best to trick Kerr, and she knew that the best way to do it would be to include Deirdre—to use her trustworthiness and her good nature to make Isobel’s lie seem real.

Yet how could she do that to her beloved sister-in-law and friend?

She sighed. I canna.

She led Deirdre to the side of the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress with her. “’Tis naught to worry you, Deirdre. Just another one of my tricks. And I willna be in danger, I promise. ’Tis something I’ve done many times in the past.”

“I’m already worried. Isobel, we were recently attacked, and Gavin was almost killed. Ewan was taken for almost two years. Our enemies will not hesitate to take you too if they catch you.”

“No one’s going to catch me. Gavin has his best men guarding me.” Technically she hadn’t lied. She just didn’t elaborate that if all went according to plan, Lyle and the rest of her guard wouldn’t be there.

“Then tell me what you’re planning.”

“Nay. It will be a surprise to everyone. Including you. Besides, Kerr will be able to read your every emotion. He’ll sniff out the trick, if I’m not vigilant.”

“Can you at least tell me what the trick is, if not how you’re going to execute it?”

Isobel wavered. If Kerr had told Gavin what Isobel had told him, then it was only a matter of time before Deirdre found out. Best if her friend heard it from her first. But she’d have to choose her words carefully.

“In the next day or two, Kerr may worry that…I’ve run off and married someone else.” She said the last quickly, wanting to get it over with. Saying it out loud made it seem worse, somehow.

A look of horror grew on Deirdre’s face. “That’s awful! You canna do that.”

A ball of guilt grew in Isobel’s stomach. She jerked to her feet, trying to squash it down. “And dumping him in a pit of manure was all right?”

“Nay, but…at least he was expecting you might do something like that. This is different.”

“Why?”

“Isobel, it will tear him apart. He’ll go berserk when he finds out. Have you thought of that? He could hurt someone.”

“He already knows, and I made sure he understood it wasn’t anyone from around here.”

“Then who does he think it is?”

“It doesn’t matter who he thinks it is. He just has to catch me eloping and discover I’m alone. That’s the trick—there ne’er was another man. I will have won!”

She said the last triumphantly, and Deirdre gave her a quizzical look. “Won what?”

An unsettled feeling filled her belly. She didn’t know how to explain to Deirdre the dynamic between her and Kerr. “I will have beaten him at this…whate’er it is that’s between us.”

“So the two of you are at war?”

“I ne’er said that.”

“A contest?”

She huffed out an exasperated breath. “The man is annoying, and he baits me. He figured out my trap earlier today. I wager he willna figure out this trick.”

“So ’tis a mental challenge.”

“You could say that.”

“And by making him believe your trick, you’ve proven that you’re smarter than him.”

“Nay! ’Tis not about being smarter. ’Tis about…winning this round.” She didn’t know how else to say it.

Thankfully, Deirdre’s face cleared. “Ah, I see. You’re outwitting one another. And then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you win this round, you’ll be even with him. He won one, you won one. Will you then marry him and put your contest aside? You could build a wonderful life together—have bairns, help your clans, grow old with each other. Be friends rather than enemies.”

Her jaw tightened. “Kerr isna my enemy. He’s my…my…adversary. And I didn’t say I would marry him.”

“So, what, then? Is the purpose of the ruse to push him away? What if he ne’er comes back to you, Isobel? What if he lets you go?”

She pressed her lips together, a strange feeling in her chest—like it was being squeezed from the inside out. The urge to yell at her friend intensified. “Where are all these questions coming from? ’Tis a wee game we’re playing, naught more.”

“So it’s fun to fight with Kerr?”

“Doona put words in my mouth, Deirdre.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”

“Well, you doona, obviously. ’Tis something between me and Kerr that I canna explain. He will understand.” She spoke harshly, her chin raised and her words clipped—her tone of voice one she’d never used on her friend.

Quiet descended upon them, suffocating them. Deirdre’s fingers trembled on her lap before she curled them into her palm. She dropped her eyes, like she used to when they first met.

Regret and sorrow filled Isobel. She quickly sat down, wrapped her arms around Deirdre, and squeezed her tight. “I’m sorry, love. Forgive me.”

Deirdre hugged her back. “Nay, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldnae have questioned you in such a way. You’re right. ’Tis between you and Kerr. I just hope it will lead to what you truly want, and not what you think you want.”

Isobel’s brow furrowed. Isna that the same thing? She shook her head to clear the unsettling thought and sat back.

“Does Gavin know it’s a trick?” Deirdre asked.

“Probably.”

“But Kerr will believe it.”

“Maybe… Yes, I believe he will.”

“He has more to lose than Gavin,” Deirdre said softly. “He’ll lose you.” Their eyes met, and Isobel’s heart stuttered. “Things may turn out differently than you think, Isobel. You ne’er know what the future will bring. Look at me and your brother. Married. Parents to Ewan. Another bairn on the way. Five months ago, I ne’er imagined that was even possible. There may be someone else in your path…in Kerr’s path too. Someone new without the years of strife between you. Someone…easy.”

If Deirdre’s words had meant to soothe her, they were having the opposite effect. Anxiety had curdled her stomach, and Isobel rose from the bed.

She paced to her desk and sat down. “Aye, you may be right.” She said it with a lightness she didn’t feel.

Smoothing the blank piece of parchment, she then picked up her quill and dipped it into the ink. She liked to name her plans, but she hadn’t been able to come up with a good title for this one yet. The last trap had been called the Manure Maneuver. She’d been quite pleased with that one, not that the great name had done any good. The best she’d been able to come up with for this one was the Suitor Surprise or the Suitor Swindle—and they were both shite.

Suppressing a sigh, she left a space at the top, refusing to believe her lack of a good title might be a bad omen. Then she began scribbling on the parchment.

“What are you writing?” Deirdre asked, crossing to stand behind her so she could see the parchment.

“A list of things to do. The first step is done. I’ve dropped hints about my upcoming elopement, and Kerr has told Gavin about it. I’ll cross it off as soon as I’ve written it.”

Deirdre snorted as Isobel finished the sentence and then crossed it off with a hard stroke before starting a new line. “Next, I need to write a letter for Gavin that Kerr will find.” She re-dipped her quill as she thought about it. “I’ll leave it on Gavin’s desk in his solar. Or maybe have someone slip it under the door. Kerr has his own key. He’ll see it.”

“You think he’ll open Gavin’s correspondence?”

“Well, if he doesn’t, he’ll go find Gavin to open it. By that time, I’ll be gone.”

“Gone? Isobel, you said you would be safe!”

“I will be, but Kerr needs to come after me and know where to find me. I’ll leave clues for him to follow. Doona worry, Deirdre. He’ll find me. He always does.”

She raised the quill and ran the soft end of it back and forth over her chin. “Maybe I should speak to Father Lundie.”

“About what?”

“About anything, really. Kerr seeing us together is more important than the actual conversation.”

Deirdre shook her head. “Poor Father Lundie. He’s too dear a man to be used for your nefarious purposes.” She walked to the washstand by the window and poured herself a cup of water from the jug that sat beside the basin. “Oh, I forgot! He willna be here. He’s leaving for Clan MacAlister on the morrow. He received word earlier from the priest there.”

Isobel crinkled her brow. “Well, that speeds things up. Now it will have to be tonight. Ah well, ’tis better this way. Kerr willna have time to process everything, and he’ll be more inclined to act from emotion rather than reason. ’Twill work in my favor.”

A knock sounded at the door, and then Gavin called out, “Isobel, it’s me.”

“Shall I answer it?” Deirdre asked.

Isobel nodded, and then turned over the parchment on her desk.

She rose, smoothing her palms over her dress and straightening her shoulders. It felt like putting on armor, and she thought back to what Deirdre had said…

Am I at war with Kerr?

Deirdre pulled the bar across and opened the door.

Gavin stepped inside and kissed his wife on the lips, lingering for a moment. “What are you doing here, love? Are you helping my sister plan and plot?” Deirdre immediately looked guilty, even though she’d been doing nothing of the sort.

Isobel strode toward them. “’Tis not your concern what I’m doing, Brother.”

“It is when I hear you’re planning to elope with a stranger.”

Gavin met Isobel’s gaze over Deirdre’s head. The speculative look in his eye—almost as if he knew something she didn’t, understood something she didn’t—had her raising her chin defensively.

“He isna a stranger to me, Brother, and ’tis my choice whom I marry. Mother made certain of that on her deathbed.”

“Then tell me who it is so I can get to know my new brother-in-law.”

“Nay. I’ll not have him subject to your scrutiny.”

Deirdre’s eyes popped open. “Isobel, you said you weren’t really—”

“Hush, love,” Gavin interrupted her. “Let my sister have her games. She’ll need something to comfort her in the long, lonely nights ahead.”

He gently nudged his wife toward the door. Isobel stepped aside as he opened it. He kissed her cheek before whispering into her ear, “It willna work, Sister. You’ll be left out in the cold. Alone.”

A chill rose within her, and she shivered. He wasn’t talking about her plan tonight.

Was she pushing Kerr too far? Too hard?

Gavin wrapped his arm around Deirdre’s shoulders, and she wrapped hers around his waist, and then they walked together along the passageway to their bedchamber, their steps in sync, their bodies and hearts woven together.

Isobel’s gut tightened, and her chest clenched. She lifted her chin a fraction higher. “Doona underestimate me, Brother. He’ll come!”