Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

H e found her in her shift, standing with her back to the mirror, craning her neck over her shoulder. He stopped in the doorway, his attention immediately arrested by the sight. While it was in some ways comical, it was also erotic.

The morning light from the windows was shining through the thin material of her shift, showing the outline of her lithe body and pert, rounded breasts. Liam swallowed down his desire and tried not to look.

“What on earth are ye up tae?” he asked her, walking in, taking off his boots and sword belt.

“There’s somethin’ on me back, and I cannae make out what it is,” she replied, still trying to see.

He laughed and padded over to her. “Ye’ll tie yersel’ in knots if ye keep that up. Come here and let me see.”

“All right, thank ye,” she said, turning around. “Can ye see it?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and stared at her lovely white back. “I cannae see anythin’. What did it look like?”

“’Tis black or dark brown, like spot or blemish. I hope ’tis nae a spider,” she

told him with a shiver. “I hate spiders.”

“Well, that’s a shame as I hear they speak highly of ye,” he told her jestingly, transfixed by the fine texture of her skin. In the course of his search he was forced to brush her back lightly with his fingertips. His belly tightened at the incredible softness.

“Where is it?” he asked, unable to see anything fitting her description.

“Down there, nae there, a bit lower down. “ She tried to point with her eyes in the mirror. He looked and put his finger on it. “D’ye mean this?” It was a tiny dark-brown mole, halfway down her back, just to the left of her spine.

“Aye, that’s it,” she said excitedly. “What is it?”

“’Tis a wee mole, that’s all,” he told her.

She drooped with relief. “Ach, thank the Wee Man for that! I thought it was a squashed spider!”

“Hmm, what’s this,” Liam asked curiously, noticing a long thin scar snaking down her side. It disappeared intriguingly around the front. He traced it with his fingertip as far as he could decently dare.

“Och, that tickles,” she said with a small shiver. “I got that while I was sparrin’ with one of me trainers. The tip off his sword went right through me jerkin and left me with that,” she explained.

“’Tis very pretty,” Liam said, noticing another silver scar lower down near her hips. He touched that one too. “’Tis a different shape tae the other one. Let me guess, a dirk.”

“Aye, but that was me own fault. The ground was muddy, and I slipped and fell against another man’s blade by accident. That bled an awful lot.”

“I bet it did,” he breathed, the front of his trews suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight. He fought to bring himself under control but found it impossible to move away, as he knew he ought to. “Battle scars eh?” he added, breathing in her scent. “Ye’re a real warrior, Ivy. Ye carry the badges on yer skin, just as I dae. I’m impressed.”

She turned and gave him a mischievous smile. “I’ve nae fought in any real battles,” she conceded. “Ye have a few more scars on yer back than I dae.” It seemed to Liam that she had completely forgotten she was standing before him in nothing but her shift. He was not going to remind her.

“It disnae matter if ye’ve nae fought in any battles yet . Ye’ve trained. Ye’ve put in the hours. Why, I’d be happy tae fight beside ye right now.”

She gazed up at him, her hands clasped, her face alight with pleasure. “D’ye mean that, Liam?”

“I wouldnae say it if I didnae mean it,” he told her. “Ye should be proud of yersel’.”

Her smooth brow suddenly crinkled in consternation. “Ye dinnae think the same as Carson, d’ye? That just because I want tae be a fighter and dress like a man when I’m trainin’, I’m nae really a proper woman?”

Angered that she should believe such a preposterous thing, he caught her by

her waist and pulled her in to him. “Oooh!” she cried, putting her hands on his shoulders in surprise and staring up at him with her big, dark-blue eyes.

He leaned down and looked into them, his hands relishing the warm curve

of her waist. “Ivy, I can assure ye, just because ye’re a better fighter than many men, it daesnae mean that under yer attire, ye’re nae a real woman.”

She smiled with such delight that, acting on a sudden irresistible impulse, he inclined his head just a little bit lower and brushed her lips with his. Instantly, alarm bells rang in his head. What am I doing? He released her and stepped backwards, turning away.

She stood there for a moment in silence. Then she went over to the bed and put on her robe. “Is there any news about Carson?” she asked, her voice betraying no sign of what had just passed between them.

“Not directly, nae. But there have been some serious developments.” He sat down in the arm chair by the fire and stretched out his legs.

“Oh?” She came over and stood near him, combing her hair, looking at him worriedly. He knew she was thinking she was going back to Carson. So, to ease her mind, he proceeded to relate all that had been discussed at the council meeting. When he had finished, she sat down in the chair opposite, her face deathly pale.

“Thank ye for tellin’ me all this, Liam,” she murmured.

“What’s yer assessment of the situation?” he asked, interested to hear what she would say. She had a sharp mind and knew her brother and Gael better than most.

“The same as yers,” she replied. “Carson is definitely using Gael. He’s always been the dominant one between the pair of them. Gael’s a boastful blusterer, but he’s nae the sharpest knife in the box. He lacks Carson’s guile and deviousness. He probably thinks what he’s doing is his own idea.” She paused to shake her head sadly. “Those poor villagers are just like me, gaming pieces on the board of selfish, greedy men.”

“Aye. Innocent folks always suffer with men like Carson and Gael in power.

At any rate, we’re all of the same mind about Carson’s machinations and his overall purpose,” Liam said. “Maybe that will help us outwit him.”

“Maybe, but he plays a long game. What are ye and the laird gonnae dae now?” she asked.

“Well, in a couple of hours he, Magnus and I are goin’ out scouting tae some of the affected villages. We’ll find out what help the villagers need in the way of restorin’ their livelihoods. We’ll talk tae folks and try and find out any information that may be useful, like if Gael has any troops hidden away around here and where he might decide tae strike next,” he explained.

“I’m comin’ with ye,” she declared, standing up suddenly.

He was astonished. “Ye are nae!”

“I am. I refuse tae stay here while ye’re away. And I’ll be better off with ye. And I’m good at talkin tae people and findin’ things out.”

“Absolutely nae,” he insisted, shaking his head vehemently. “Ye said ye were gonnae go and help Effie today.”

“I’ve already been tae see her. She has too much work on tae keep an eye on me today. So I have naethin’ tae dae. This is about me braither and I want tae help”.

“Christ!” He got up and began pacing, thinking she might be right. He would feel happier with her by her side. Then he could protect her. But could he persuade Knox to take her along? Well, he decided, I suppose there’s only one way tae find out.

“All right, we’ll see what Knox says. But if he agrees, ye havetae promise tae dae exactly as I tell ye, and wear yer lad’s clothes,” he told her. She rushed to get ready, while he rubbed his stubbly chin with his hand and muttered, “Ach, I just hope I’m nae gonnae regret this!”

Three hours later, along with Liam, Magnus, the laird and a small party of armed men bringing up the rear, Ivy found herself riding into the village of Cannmere. A pall of gray smoke still lingered as barns and cottages continued to smolder. Folk stood huddled in the streets, now homeless.

The laird received a warm welcome from his people. But the devastation Gael’s men had wrought, burning barns and crofts, stealing cattle and sheep, was distressing to see. Two people, a farmer and his son, had been murdered trying to protect their property. The tearful widow and her children were being comforted by the women. The needless killing infuriated Ivy, and her heart ached for the bereaved family. She hated her brother and Gael with a new ferocity that began to overtake her fear of them.

They spent all day touring the villages. Ivy was impressed by Laird Stewart’s efforts to comfort the villagers and give practical help to recover their ruined livelihoods. It was a glaring contrast to Carson’s harsh style as leader of his clan. For the first time, she wondered about the sufferings of her own clansfolk under his iron rule and was sure their lives were miserable.

They visited three villages in all, and when they left each one, Magnus would make an announcement inviting all the villagers to attend the upcoming cèilidh. The news was welcomed as something to lighten the gloom of their situation. She found their resilience inspiring.

They were preparing to leave the last village and Ivy was on her way to rejoin the men after talking to some women when she suddenly heard a low whistle to her left. When she looked over, she saw a man wearing a long, hooded cloak beckoning to her from a narrow alley between two houses.

As soon as he saw she had noticed him, he waved at her urgently to come over. Wary of strangers, she looked around. But there were plenty of people about, and Liam had given her back her sword, so she felt safe. Thinking the man must be a villager with some fresh tale of horror to relate, she went over to him.

As she drew closer and saw that most of his face was obscured by a grubby cloth, she thought he must be a leper. She dared not go too close.

“What is it?” she asked. “Can I help ye with somethin?”

“Ye cannae help me, Lady Ivy, but I can help ye,” came the reply. Ivy’s hackles rose. She was dressed as a youth, so how did the stranger know who she was?

“Who are ye, and how d’ye ken me?”

“I’ve been watchin’ out fer ye, melady.” Those words sent shivers slithering down Ivy’s spine as though a serpent was creeping along it. “I have secrets tae tell ye, about how yer ma and da were killed.”

“What d’ye ken about me parents?” she demanded, repulsed but at the same time intrigued by the stranger’s words.

“I told ye, I have secrets tae tell ye, things that have been kept from ye.”

Before she could respond, the stranger appeared to spot something over her shoulder that spooked him. The scarecrow-like figure visibly tensed and stepped smartly back into the alley. “I must go now, but I’ll come and find ye and speak tae ye again soon. Tell nay one we’ve spoken.” Then, he turned and fled.

“Wait! Come back!” she called after his retreating back. But he vanished swiftly between the houses. Frowning in puzzlement, she turned to see what had scared him off. It was Liam, striding towards her.

“Are ye all right there, Ivy?” Liam asked, coming up to her with a look of concern. He glanced down the empty alley then back at her.

“Aye, I’m fine. I was just on me way back tae ye.” She toyed with telling him about the stranger but decided to heed the warning not to tell anyone about the encounter, for the moment at least. She justified her omission by telling herself the man’s ravings were simply just that, the ravings of a deranged mind. But in her heart of hearts, she knew that could not be true, and she felt bad about keeping it from Liam.

“We’re done here. Knox wants tae leave in a few minutes. Are ye ready tae go?” Liam asked.

“Aye, I’m ready. Did ye find out anythin’ useful?” They fell into step beside each other as they went to join the rest of the party in the main square.

“Nae really. Maybe we’ll find out more when the other scouts come back in. But at least Knox has made his folks feel a wee bit better.”

“Aye, he’s a good leader. He really cares about his people,” she said as they came up to their companions. They waited while Magnus made his announcement about the post-hunt festival and then the party set off back the castle.

All the way home, Ivy wondered about the mysterious stranger. How had he known who she was? What were the secrets he professed to have about her parents? Could it be that he knew who was responsible for their deaths?

The questions revolved in her mind, but to find the answers, she would have to wait for him to find her again. And she knew that if she told Liam about it, he would do something to interfere. But the chance to know more about the circumstances of her parents’ deaths, however bizarre the informant, was just too hard to resist.