Chapter Three

The blackguard has come home. Horatio Carr thrummed his fingers against the stout table in the common room of the Beardsman Inn, where he'd been forced to lodge. He should have been in the master's chamber at Midwick Manor instead of at this lowly inn on the outskirts of Newcastleton.

Why hadn't the French eliminated Lucius as they had his brother Peter? Better the French take the young heir than that the killing fall to him. But now he'd be forced into the deed if he wanted what should have rightfully been his: Midwick Manor and the earldom.

All around him the din of many conversations added a sense of confusion. He pressed his fingers against his temples in an attempt to gather his thoughts. He needed a plan.

Horatio frowned down into the empty mug that had only a short while ago been filled with ale. How could he force the boy back toward the Templars? If his nephew renounced the title, everything would fall into place. Then Horatio could begin his future as the Earl of Carrick. At the thought, his chest warmed. It had been so long since he had the kind of respect he deserved. How could being born a mere two minutes behind his brother separate the heir from the spare? Damn the system that had denied him his due.

Horatio increased the pressure of his fingers against his forehead. He'd already stolen away most of the staff in hopes the estate would cease to function. He hadn't expected the servants who'd remained to increase their efforts tenfold to keep that from happening. Though the estate was not thriving, it limped along. He could afford to cripple the estate during the winter season. But he would have to succeed by the growing season, or the failure of the estate would become his problem.

Time was of the essence here.

And in order to succeed, he needed another tactic, something far more devastating, something that would cut the young pup to the quick. Then an idea formed. The perfect solution to Horatio's problem. He knew Lucius's weakness. It was the reason he'd returned home.

His sisters.

Horatio closed his eyes, trying to block out the laughter of the woman sitting behind him and the shouts of the two men near the fire who wrestled each other like they were playing out of doors. The thump of a body against a wooden table made him startle.

He stood and backed into the shadows of the chamber as other men joined the fray. Horatio watched the ruckus, and as he did, his plan took on dimension. He needed at least two of these thugs as part of his plan.

The girls were the key. Lucius would return to the Templars or die. Horatio cared not which.

He pressed himself against the rough stone wall in the shadows. His cheeks heated, his fists curled and uncurled as hatred seethed green and evil within him. He would use the girls to get everything he wanted. Everything.

Lucius stretched in the chair he'd slept in by the hearth in the great hall, trying to work the kinks out of his neck. He'd slept in worse conditions, but never in his own home. He had a perfectly good bed waiting for him upstairs, yet he hadn't been able to bring himself to sleep in it or the chamber that had belonged to his father, and to Marcus after that. There were too many memories lingering abovestairs, memories he wasn't prepared to confront just yet.

Lucius stood and stretched again and noted the light seeping through the shutters was brighter than normal. He crossed the chamber and threw the shutters open. A blast of cold air greeted him, as did the sight of the estate blanketed in snow that had fallen during the night.

"Did you sleep well, my lord?"

At the sound of Elizabeth's soft voice, he tensed. "You used to call me Lucius."

"With your permission, I would be delighted to do so once more."

He closed the shutters. "You don't need my permission." A frown tugged at his mouth as he turned to face her. She was dressed in a dark woolen dress and a cloak, and held a second cloak draped over her arm. "You are leaving."

"Nay, you'll not be rid of me so easily, Lucius." She placed an added emphasis on his name. "I've come to take you on an outing." She held the cloak over her arm out to him. "Once you break your fast we'll be on our way."

"Where?" he asked suspiciously.

She smiled sweetly, and he knew from the days of their youth that the glint of determination in her eyes meant he wouldn't get anything more from her until he agreed.

He accepted the cloak. "If I do this, will you leave then?"

Her smile slipped a notch. "I'll make you no promises. Marie has oats and bacon set out for you in the kitchen."

As she waited for his reply, her gaze moved to the chair he'd slept in and the woolen blanket now lying on the floor alongside it. Her face remained blank, but in her eyes he could see a momentary sadness before she dropped her gaze to her feet.

He'd always been able to read her emotions by her eyes. At the thought he stiffened. What did he care what emotion she was experiencing, especially on his behalf? Elizabeth had betrayed him, and here was no forgiving that. He tossed the cloak over his shoulders and pushed past her, heading toward the kitchen. "Very well. Let's get this charade over with, so then you can leave."

Before his sisters had risen from their beds, he and Elizabeth were out of doors. She led him to the stable, where two horses were saddled and ready for them. Elizabeth moved to the mounting block and easily slipped onto the back of her horse.

Lucius frowned, irritated by the knowledge she didn't need his assistance to mount. Was she avoiding his touch? Or was she making a show of her independence? He mounted his horse and forced the thoughts away. He could not afford to care about her feelings or her motives. His presence on this outing was merely a means to get her to leave, nothing more.

As she turned toward the door, he noticed a dark bundle attached to the back of her horse. "What's in the satchel?" he asked as he followed her.

She stopped her horse and turned to him. "Gifts from you to your tenants."

"What are you about?"

She ignored his tartness. "You need to meet your people. They are eager to meet you. And since it is customary for the lord of the manor to deliver coins to the crofters and servants at Christmastide, I asked Hadwell if you could do both at the same time. He agreed and gave me the funds."

His gaze narrowed. "You are overstepping your authority."

"As the future mistress of this estate, I must think of its people."

He drew a deep breath. "You are not mistress here yet, and will never be if I have my way." At the hurt in her eyes, he softened his tone. "Besides, coins are to be dispersed on Saint Stephen's feast day, the day after Christmas."

She held her chin high. "It would better serve your people to have the coins early this year, for they have suffered much by the loss of your father and brother."

A rush of pain moved through him at her words. He hated to admit she was right. Those of his people who remained at the estate deserved kindness this year more than any other. At the mention of his tenants, his thoughts wandered to those who'd left. Where had they gone and what was their condition? The borderlands could be a treacherous place for clan members living on their own.

Determined to get this outing over with, he set his horse in motion, driving the beast into the foot-deep snow. Regardless of whether it was his idea to go to the crofters or Elizabeth's, he did need to talk with them and figure out what had happened to those who'd left the estate. It was his duty to see to their safety, no matter what his uncle had offered them to leave.

Pale blue skies stretched overhead. The sun bathed the snow in sparkling iridescence that lent further peacefulness to the scene as they progressed to the south. The rhythm of the horses' hooves in the ice-crusted snow was the only sound greeting them as they made their way across the fallow fields. They rode in silence, with only the sound of the harness jingling to fill the space until they came to the first crofter cottage bordering the edge of the loch.

"Bentner and his lady live here with their five children," she reminded him as they dismounted. She untied the satchel and handed it to him. "For you to disperse as you see fit."

He accepted the heavy bag and opened it up to see not only a bag of coins at the top, but several packages wrapped in linen and tied with twine. "What's in the packages?"

She lifted her chin and a hint of a challenge came into her eyes. "Marie thought you should share a ham with them for their Yuletide celebrations."

He raised a brow. "She did, did she?"

Elizabeth nodded, but her gaze searched the area near the croft cottage instead of settling on him. Her inability to look people in the face gave her away every time she told a lie. Lucius bit back a smile and headed for the door. "It was a good suggestion, whoever's idea it was," Lucius said.

After a jam tart and three cups of tea, Lucius and Elizabeth made their good-byes and headed for the southern tip of the estate. "Does Jacob Insley still live on this patch of land?" Lucius asked as they neared the Insley cottage.

"Aye," Elizabeth replied. "He and his new wife, Jayne, are there."

Lucius smiled at the memory of Jacob Insley. He'd been a frequent visitor at Midwick Manor when Lucius was young. The two men had become friends regardless of their rank, and Lucius was eager to see his old companion once more. They were riding toward the cottage when they saw a tall man with shockingly red hair pacing back and forth in front of the door. "Jacob?" Lucius called as both he and Elizabeth dismounted and hurried forward.

It took a moment before recognition dawned on the young man's face, but when it did he ran to them and clasped Lucius's arm. "Praise the saints ye are safely with us again, milord."

At Jacob's pale face, the wind suddenly felt a little cooler. "What's wrong?"

" 'Tis my Jayne. She's been laboring with our second child fer a day. The midwife told me tae come outside and walk around the house backwards tae try tae help alleviate her pain."

"I'll go see what I can do to help," Elizabeth said as she hurried inside the cottage.

"Would you like some company on your jaunt?" Lucius said when they were alone.

"Aye. That I would," Jacob said. "For a moment there, I feared ye were the English."

Lucius frowned. "Are the raids that frequent?"

"Aye. They know the country is weakened with the Bruce gone and his child on the throne."

Lucius sighed. "I've been so caught up in the Templars' troubles with the French that I hadn't heard…" He let his words trail off. It was no excuse. He was a landowner now and responsible for the safety of his people. "When was the last raid? And how many men did they have?"

"Last week they came across the border west of here and torched the MacKinley land, and stole their cattle. George MacKinley died, but his son Silas and their men managed tae fend off the English before anyone else was killed."

Lucius kept his expression neutral, though inside, alarm rippled though him. The English usually only stole cattle. That they'd killed George MacKinley indicated they might be testing the border's defenses for another, larger attack.

Before he could respond to Jacob, the door of the croft opened and Elizabeth stepped back into the snow. A worried expression brought shadows to her eyes. "Jayne's labor is harder than it should be. The babe is large, but it's more than that. She's nervous about the raid that happened last week. Mistress Grayson fears unless Jayne feels safe enough to deliver the babe, they both might die."

Elizabeth met his gaze. "Jayne would be better served if she had men to guard her. But that is your decision to make." Elizabeth's gaze dipped to her toes as though she feared what his response might be.

Instead of making the decision for him as she had about this trip, she'd given him the chance to decide Jayne's fate, even though there really was no choice. "Jacob, go tell your wife that reinforcements from Midwick are on their way. After the baby is born, I want you all to move in to the manor house with us. Jayne and the baby will be well cared for there. Marie and Hadwell will see to that."

Jacob's eyes misted. "Thank you, milord."

As Jacob disappeared into the cottage, Elizabeth turned to Lucius. "There's no one at Midwick Manor to guard anyone."

"Which is why I'm going back to the Bentners to ask for their help." He drew his sword and pressed the hilt of the weapon into Elizabeth's hands.

"I don't know how to use a sword."

"Let's hope you won't have to. I'll be back soon." He strode to his horse, leaving Elizabeth staring down at the weapon.