Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

D etermined to stop himself from thinking about Bonnie during each and every one of his waking moments, Evan threw all his efforts into the plan, he and Alaric working tirelessly to gather as much information as they could. After Bonnie refused to join them in his chambers, he and Alaric, spent the rest of the night going over the letters again and again, desperately trying to find any evidence that would be incriminating enough, but with no success.

Evan had proposed the possibility of ciphers being used. Alaric took it a step further and proposed those letters were only meant to be a distraction, something to confuse those who would intercept them and reveal their identities to Ruthven and Balliol. Both of them labored over the papers, trying to find some meaning, only to fall asleep over them near dawn, too exhausted to continue.

When Evan opened his eyes, his cheek was pressed against the table, drool collecting in the corner of his mouth. He sat up quickly in his chair, one of the letters sticking to his skin before he ripped it roughly off his face.

The sound startled Alaric awake, who also shot up straight, eyes wide as he scanned the room around him. He only relaxed when he saw there was no immediate threat, and then he turned his gaze to the pile of letters on the table, looking at them forlornly.

"Did we manage tae find out anythin'?" he asked Evan as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I dinnae even remember."

"Nay," Evan said with a groan. "We cannae prove much other than the fact that there is correspondence between them, but that doesnae damn him. We need more information if we wish tae destroy Ruthven."

Alaric cursed under his breath, letting his head fall back against the chair. Outside, the sun was high up in the sky, the light relentless as it poured through the window. Evan didn't know how long they had slept, but it was certainly not long enough, even if it seemed to be later in the day. In fact, it had been several days since he had last had a good night's sleep, and he didn't know how much longer he could take this before he stopped functioning.

"We need somethin' . . . somethin' more," Evan said, racking his brain to try and find another way to gather information. "We cannae bribe the guards, we have limited access tae Ruthven . . ."

"The maids?" Alaric asked, suddenly alert as he leaned forward in his seat. "Bonnie said they look intae the laird's things, didnae she? So maybe they'll have somethin' tae tell us."

"Why would they tell us?" Evan asked. "I suppose we could offer them some gold, but enough fer them tae risk their lives?"

Alaric pinned Evan with a mischievous look, cocking one eyebrow and smirking at him suggestively. At first, Evan didn't know what it was he was trying to imply, but then it struck him and he shook his head, unwilling to even consider it.

"Nay," he said. "Nay, I'd much rather find a different way."

"Why?" Alaric asked. "All ye have tae dae is charm them. Yer good at it."

"Why dinnae ye dae it instead?" Evan asked. "Why must it always be me?"

"Because they're nae as afraid o' ye as they are o' me," Alaric pointed out and Evan had to admit that he had a point. There were always women, though, who enjoyed Alaric's rugged and frankly dangerous look a lot more. He even often had more success with them—not so much because of his looks, but rather because Evan was not well-versed in the art of meaningless conversation.

Evan could do it, of course, if he wanted to. He could sweet-talk the maids and make them spill some of their secrets, but the mere thought brought forth a pounding headache. He preferred a more direct approach, something simple and honest, like taking an important man hostage and getting the truth out of him. Flirting with the maids, though perhaps a necessary evil, was not high on his list of preferred methods.

"Find one o' the young uns," Alaric said. "One who is impressionable. It willnae take long."

"Or she'll suspect me an' she will tell Ruthven," Evan pointed out.

"Ye can make sure she willnae suspect."

Evan tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, watching Alaric through narrowed eyes. He knew his brother would not budge no matter what he said, but even if it wasn't something Evan wanted to do, he figured there was more to gain than to lose if he tried.

He would be discreet about it. He would make sure the woman wouldn't suspect him.

"Fine," he said with a sigh, finally relenting. "Fine, but if it doesnae work, we'll dae it the way I want."

"An' what, precisely, would ye suggest?" Alaric asked, gesturing his arms as if to say he was all ears. "I would love tae hear yer suggestions."

Evan glared at him, unimpressed by Alaric's sarcasm. He didn't, in fact, have any suggestions and Alaric knew that perfectly well. Had he been capable of coming up with another plan, he would have done so already.

"Well . . . get out o' me chambers," Evan said, standing up with a decisive sigh. "An' let me prepare."

With an inelegant snort, Alaric stood and slapped Evan encouragingly on the back as he walked by him. He was gone without another word, heading to his own chambers, and once Evan was alone, he began the task of looking as presentable as possible.

It was easier said than done for him, of course. There was a natural roughness to his looks, from his dark beard to the hair that refused to lay neatly on his head. His size didn't help either, as he towered over men and women alike, looking very much like what he was—a human weapon.

After trying his best with his hair, looking intently at his reflection in the looking-glass, he gave up and decided he was simply going to have to take his chances. Leaving the room, he made his way around the castle and tried to figure out which girl he should approach first, his mind going through the list of all the maids he had met during his stay.

As he passed by the bottom of the stairs, he caught a glimpse of one of them as she hurried towards the kitchens. Evan recognized her as Ada, one of the younger women in the castle, who had smiled openly at him only a few days prior.

As far as his options were concerned, she was perhaps the best one.

Evan approached her quickly, sliding up in front of her to block her way. At first, Ada was startled, but when she saw it was him, she smiled warmly, giving him a bow.

"Good mornin', me laird," she said bashfully, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. Though she didn't resemble Bonnie at all with her blonde hair and bright blue eyes, Bonnie was still the only one Evan could think about in that moment. He had to chase the thought of her out of her mind to focus on the task at hand, and he forced a smile on his lips as he leaned against the wall.

"Good mornin', Ada," he said, voice dropping low and taking on a sultry tone. "Are ye busy?"

"Only a little," Ada said. "Is there somethin' ye need?"

"I only wished tae speak with ye," Evan said with a small shrug.

Around them, the corridor was empty, but the privacy they had was little more than an illusion. Not too far from them, the kitchens were bustling with activity and at the other end of the corridor, guards and servants went about their days and chores. Evan didn't have much time to get what he needed, and he had to be clever about it.

"Did ye?" Ada asked, looking at him through lowered lashes, her hand coming up to smooth her hair. "About?"

Evan gave another shrug, his mind scrambling to figure out a way to ask her what he needed to ask. "Just about ye," he said. Perhaps if he turned the conversation towards her, then he could eventually steer it towards Ruthven. "What have ye been doin' today?"

Ada raised an eyebrow as if she didn't quite believe that was all Evan wanted from her, though she probably thought it was a pathetic attempt at flirting rather than a ploy to get information on her laird. She looked at Evan from head to toe and then up again, gaze locking onto his.

"Well . . . I helped in the kitchens an' then I scrubbed the floors," she said. "I'm afraid it isnae anythin' that would thrill ye, me laird."

Evan took a deep breath, considering his next words carefully. "A bonnie lass like ye . . . ye shouldnae have tae dae such things."

As he spoke, he took her hands in his, thumbs brushing over the calluses and the roughened skin, drawing a gasp out of Ada. She blushed once again, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red, but made no attempt to pull away from Evan.

"An' what should I be doin'?" Ada asked, eager to play along.

"If ye were in me castle, I would have ye servin' me an' only me," said Evan. "How is it that Laird Ruthven doesnae dae that?"

"Well . . . I'm nae only servin' Laird Ruthven, but I dae serve him often personally," Ada said, taking the bait much to Evan's relief. "I bring him his meals, I clean his study . . . I serve his guests."

"His guests? Does he have guests often?"

"Och aye," said Ada. "People visit him often an' he invites them tae stay fer as long as they'd like."

"How kind o' him," said Evan, though even he couldn't make the words sound like he meant them. "Is John Balliol one o' those guests, perhaps?"

Ada gave him a curious look, one that betrayed her suspicion. At first, she said nothing, glancing around her for a moment as if she wanted to see if someone could hear them.

"I will tell ye in exchange fer a kiss," she said in the end, all that bashfulness from before suddenly gone.

Was it all an act? Perhaps she isnae the shy lass I thought she was.

Then again, Evan wasn't who he claimed to be either. He could hardly blame her for putting on an act to get what she wanted when he was doing the exact same thing.

"Very well," Evan said, chuckling as he leaned closer to cradle her cheek in his hand. For a moment, he only looked at her, before he captured her lips in a soft kiss, feeling her sigh against his mouth.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor before coming to a sudden halt. Ada, frightened by them, wrenched herself free of Evan and turned around to look at the intruder with wide eyes.

Evan's were just as wide when he saw who it was: Bonnie, standing there, at the end of the hallway, her delicate features contorted into a mask of betrayal.

Dinner was once again a tense affair. Bonnie and Evan sat across from each other, with Laird Ruthven at the head of the table and Alaric next to Evan, but they had exchanged no words so far. They only glared at each other every chance they got, over their forks and the rims of their cups, uncaring of what Alaric and Laird Ruthven would think of it.

Bonnie pushed the piece of rabbit around her plate, her appetite gone from the moment she had stepped foot in that corridor earlier that day and seen Evan kissing one of the maids. The sight had made the blood in her veins run cold, a chill running through her as though she had been doused with cold water. Her stomach had turned into a knot since and she couldn't stomach any food that was placed in front of her.

The worst part was that she shouldn't care. Why should she care what Evan did? Why should she care if he kissed other women? What had happened between them was nothing more than a mistake, nothing more than a few moments of weakness, and besides, it meant nothing. They hadn't kissed. They owed each other nothing.

Still, the mere sight of Evan was enough to stoke the fires of her rage, her fury threatening to bubble over. She couldn't stand being at the same table as him. She couldn't stand the memory of him kissing that maid.

"Yer very quiet today, Miss MacLaren," Laird Ruthven said and Bonnie's grip tightened around her fork, a wave of fury coursing through her. "Is somethin' the matter?"

"Nay, me laird," said Bonnie with a reassuring smile—as reassuring as she could muster, at least. "I simply dinnae have an appetite."

"Is the food nae tae yer likin'?" Ruthven asked. "The cooks could prepare somethin' different fer ye. Anythin' ye wish."

"Thank ye, yer very kind, but I truly am fine," Bonnie said, before she turned her gaze back to Evan, eyes narrowing. "Perhaps I will eat later, in me rooms. Alone."

Silence stretched over the table for several moments. Even the sounds of scraping cutlery stopped entirely, and Bonnie could hear nothing but the ringing in her ears as her rage grew.

"If I am affectin' yer appetite, cousin , perhaps I should leave the table," Evan said through gritted teeth. "We wouldnae want ye tae waste away because o' me."

The nerve o' him tae be angry with me!

Ruthven and Alaric both looked back and forth between them, wearing identical looks of confusion. Though she had thought that Evan and Alaric said everything to each other, it seemed the kiss with the maid was something Evan hadn't shared with his brother.

"Or perhaps it is time fer ye tae head back home," Bonnie said. From the corner of her eye, she could see the panicked look on Alaric's face, but she continued to speak before he could interrupt her and try to salvage the situation. "I'm sure there are plenty o' maids there who are tae yer likin'."

"Perhaps there are," Evan said with a shrug. "What does it matter tae ye?"

It was a good question, Bonnie thought—one that she couldn't answer, of course, especially not in front of Ruthven. Instead of the truth, she said, "It is hardly proper an' ye are well aware o' that. It doesnae become ye."

"An' this doesnae become ye," Evan shot right back, his tone taking on a sharp edge. "Ye speak o' things ye dinnae ken."

"I think I ken enough."

"Ye ken naething."

"Alright!"

Alaric's booming voice cut through the argument, silencing both Evan and Bonnie immediately. Sheepishly, Bonnie looked at him and then at Ruthven, color rushing to her cheeks when she realized how much the argument sounded like a lovers' spat. She shouldn't have lost her temper like this, especially in front of Ruthven, but then again, Evan hadn't been any better than her.

"We will discuss this later," said Alaric with a tight, forced smile on his lips. "As a . . . family."

Bonnie drew in a shaky breath. Distantly, she heard Alaric explain to Ruthven that she had always been protective of her family, her sister and her cousins alike, the excuse coming to him with practiced ease. She hardly heard anything Alaric and Ruthven had to say, though. She could only hear the rush of blood to her head, the rabbit-fast, erratic beat of her heart.

Though she could hardly call what Evan had done a betrayal, it still hurt; it hurt more than she ever thought it would, as though an arrow had pierced through her, leaving her to bleed out in agony. After a few seconds of her and Evan staring at each other, she couldn't take it anymore, and so she stood, the chair's legs scraping loudly against the stone floor.

"Excuse me," she mumbled. "I require some fresh air."

Before anyone could stop her, before anyone could even offer to accompany her, Bonnie was gone, spilling out into the darkness of the courtyard where she could finally be alone.