Chapter 22

22

A s Freya departed, Emily made her way down the long passageway back to her rooms. It was almost midday, and the sun shone brightly through the windows.

As she rounded the corner, there was a shout from behind her, and she turned to find one of the members of the council approaching her, brandishing an envelope.

He bowed as he reached her, handing it over with a small smile. He was only a few inches taller than her and very thin, with bright, intelligent eyes.

"Lucas Moore, Lady Emily, I dinnae get the chance to introduce meself until now." He bowed again. "Excuse the intrusion, but I wished to deliver a letter to the Laird, and I saw ye as I entered. This came for ye."

She looked down at the letter, joy rushing through her at the sight of Ceana's neat handwriting on the paper.

"Thank ye, Lucas, but Laird MacNiall has left with Laird MacGordon." She hesitated, noting his disappointed expression. "Is there anythin' I can help with?"

Lucas paused, and the look in his eyes communicated something to her without the need for any words.

"The Young family have sent a letter to say that they cannae return to the castle at present. It is a long journey on foot, and the faither is unwell. I was goin' to suggest that I ride out to the village with the Laird to meet with them."

"How long would it take?" Emily asked, the idea she had considered earlier solidifying in her mind.

"Nay more than an hour, M'Lady," Lucas said, the inflection in his voice suggesting they were of the same mind.

"Perhaps I could come with ye instead," she suggested tentatively. "I have handled similar troubles in me own clan. I could hear their requests and report back to him. I ken how important it is for people to feel that their lairds are listenin' to them."

Lucas smiled. "I am sure there would be nay objection, M'Lady."

I think yer Laird may disagree with that .

But she was growing tired of sitting in her room and doing as she was told.

She was not trying to control anything. She simply wanted to be useful and use her skills to benefit the clansfolk. If they were to become her people, she should get to know their needs.

She nodded. "I shall be ready in half an hour. I can meet ye in the courtyard."

Lucas bowed again. "I am most grateful, M'Lady. I ken they will be happy to see ye."

She watched Lucas depart and then made her way back to her room. As soon as she was inside, she opened the letter eagerly.

Ceana's words were reassuring. After the usual warm greetings between friends, she wrote that Laird Wilkinson and Bruce were doing well and they were safe.

Emily frowned, however, as the letter went on to say that James Stewart visited her family every day and had men watching the castle. They were unable to search for her, and it was causing her father some anxiety. But Ceana assured her that she would let Laird Wilkinson know that his daughter was safe.

Emily held the letter to her breast, breathing deeply and fighting back tears of relief.

She was even more determined to go to the village now. She was going to get out of the castle and actually do something, instead of waiting for things to happen to her.

She was sick of being commanded and ordered by everyone around her, and today, she would do something for herself.

After half a mile of sulking, Doughall took a deep breath and composed himself as they rode out of the castle. Adam glanced at him, hiding a smile. Doughall always won, so to him a tie was failure.

"Nice game," Adam teased.

"Have ye heard from Laura?" Doughall asked, stoically ignoring him.

"Nae since her last letter. I still dinnae ken where she is."

"But ye are sure it was Stewart who hurt her?"

"Freya is sure—that's enough confirmation for me. They are like two peas in a pod."

Doughall nodded. "And ye intend to go through with the weddin'?"

" False weddin', yes."

A weighted silence followed that statement, and Adam frowned as he glanced at his friend. Doughall's brow was furrowed, his eyes focused on the horizon.

"What is it?" Adam asked.

Doughall shrugged a shoulder, looking uncomfortable.

Adam's hackles rose instantly. "Ye dinnae think I should go after Stewart, do ye?" he said impatiently.

"What? Nay! Of course, ye should," Doughall protested. "But have ye thought about whether a weddin' is the wisest course?"

Adam scratched his chin, confused by the sudden turnabout. Doughall had agreed to the scheme only a few days ago, and now he was questioning things when Adam needed his support more than ever.

"Why would I nae? A weddin' will draw him out. He'll want to punish her."

"Are ye nae doin' that yerself?"

Adam's stomach turned over. "What do ye mean by that?"

"Listen, ye ken I dinnae wish to interfere. I'll do as ye need me to, like I always have. But this isnae just about yer sister anymore."

"Of course, it is. I'm doin' this for Laura."

"And what about what Emily wants?"

"She has agreed to it."

"Aye." Doughall's voice was almost wistful. The afternoon sun beat down on the lands behind him, surrounding him in a golden light, but he looked uneasy. "But have ye seen the way the lass looks at ye?"

Adam scoffed. "She looks at me like she hates me most of the time. We cannae be in the same room without arguin'."

"Is that how it was when ye stayed in the woods all night?"

"Ye hold yer tongue."

"Ye see?" Doughall said reproachfully. "I kenned somethin' was up with the both of ye. This cannae just be about Laura when ye are plannin' to wed someone."

"It willnae come to that," Adam said firmly. "Stewart willnae be able to help himself."

"And if ye're wrong?" Doughall pulled on the horse's reins, and they came to an abrupt halt. "I dinnae ken the lass, but she looks at ye like this isnae a game. If ye are goin' to go through with this, ye have to plan as ye do for a war. What might happen—all eventualities. She's a kind lass. She doesnae deserve for ye to marry her and then cast her aside."

He raised his hands defensively at Adam's expression.

"I ken better than anyone why ye dinnae want a wife. Of course, I do, but this is different. Ye're draggin' her into yer history. That isnae Emily's fault, and she has come here and agreed to help ye despite yer kidnappin' her durin' her weddin'. Now ye're draggin' her into another one."

"I have treated her well since she came to the castle and will continue to do so."

"Aye. So ye arenae goin' to expect her to stay out of council affairs, then? Ye arenae just goin' to secure yer line and make her live separately from ye as if she isnae even there?"

Doughall let out a humorless laugh at Adam's expression.

"I love ye like a braither, ye ken that, but ye arenae bein' fair to the lass."

"This isnae about fairness, this is about gettin' me little sister back. Emily can make her own choices just like the rest of us."

Doughall shook his head. "Aye, that's true." He fell silent and shook his head. "I've said me piece. I willnae say more on it."

"When did ye become the expert on takin' a wife? It isnae as though ye have any prospects on that score, is it?"

Doughall's stoic mask fell back into place. "I am with ye. I will stay with ye. But dinnae underestimate what the lass is givin' up for ye."

He clicked his tongue, and both horses walked on again.

Lost in contemplation of what his friend had said, Adam couldn't help feeling angry with him. He had never lied to Emily; he had always told her exactly what he wanted from her, and she knew the risks.

What does he mean by ‘the way she looked at me'?

His mind dragged him back to the hunting lodge the morning before. Her face had contorted with rage when he had dismissed their time together.

He clenched his jaw, picking up Buck's reins and kicking his flanks to urge him into a canter. Doughall sped up beside him, but Adam was in no mood to spend more time conversing with his friend. Doughall's remarks had thrown him off, and he didn't like the doubts that had started to creep into his mind.

Am I mistaken? Does this mean more to her than I thought?