Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

B ack to Castle Stuart, 1653

Elara tried to bend down to bite her ties free. She had only just managed to get her teeth around the binds when she heard them. There were footsteps in the corridor outside of the chamber. She sat upright again, staring at the door as it opened.

"What are ye doing? Get yer hands off me!"

"Lydia!" Elara called, recognizing her sister's voice at once.

Laird Stuart led the way into the room. Behind him, Marcus walked, his hand on Lydia's shoulder, steering her forward. Lydia wasn't tied up as she was. In fact, Marcus seemed to barely have a hand on her at all, though each time Lydia attempted to dive to the side, Marcus caught hold of her again.

"Och, Lydia, what are ye doing here?" Elara called in panic, trying to pull herself out of the chair, though she could do no such thing.

"What dae ye think?" her younger sister countered. She tried once more to shrug Marcus off her, though the pair of them were quickly blocked from Elara's view as Laird Stuart stepped close in front of her.

"Get away from me," Elara spat.

"How mad are ye?" he snapped.

He was enraged. He looked even angrier than when she had seen him last night and he had found her searching his chamber. His tanned cheeks were now dark red, his eyes flashing with fury, barely blinking.

"Ye think I'm a murderer? An arsonist? Ye think I would send a man tae nae only kill yer parents, but me own too!?" These words thundered from him. The power of them practically reverberated in Elara's gut. She leaned far back from him, as far as the chair would allow her to do so. "Ye have lost all senses. Ye should be sent tae Bedlam." He stood straight and marched up and down. "It was an accident. I was told it was an accident."

"I told him about what Cassian's spies said, Elara, but he willnae listen," Lydia piped up.

"Quiet," Marcus ordered her.

"Ye dinnae get tae order me around," she spat back at him. He offered the smallest of smirks. Clearly, he thought he could.

"Ye deny it then?" Elara shifted her focus back to Laird Stuart. "Ye deny murder?"

"Of course, I bloody dae!"

"Then ye ken why I am here. Ye will never admit tae it, so it seems I must find the proof of it in yer castle – what are ye doing?" she cried out as he turned to her and slammed his hands down on the arms of her chair, inches away from her hands.

"I am nay killer. Ye could search this castle from roof top tae foundations and ye'd find nothing, because there is nothing tae find." He released the chair fast, flinging his hands in his dark hair as he backed up from her.

She blinked. There was certainly venom in his tone. For a second, something wavered inside her. It was an uncertainty, a willingness to believe that they could be mistaken, then she clamped down on this thought.

"Nay. Ye are responsible. We ken it."

"How can ye ken something that is nae true?" he threw the words at her. "Yer sister has just admitted the spies found evidence of a mercenary. They have nay idea who he was."

Her eyes moved to Marcus.

"He wasnae even in the country at the time. We were travelling back together from me touring." Kaden gestured at Marcus. "Is that why ye have condemned me fer the murder of me own parents? Because I have a friend who was once a mercenary?"

"There are other things too," she said, determination filling her. She pulled against the binds as she leaned toward him. "Repeated assassination attempts on me braither. Cassian was supposed tae go with me parents that night. Clearly, someone was upset that they didnae managed tae kill him too. If Cassian had died, and as the Lamonts closest neighbor, ye as Laird Stuart could raid the land and make it yers, couldnae ye?"

He looked at her, his chest heaving up and down with his breath.

"I thought yer braither was as good as laird anyway. I heard he took over the running of the council and clan before yer faither died. He was sick."

"Aye, he did. He agreed tae take on the lairdship. The final papers were still being drawn up when the decision was taken out of their hands and the fire left them choiceless. Me braither had nothing tae gain. Ye did. Ye had everything."

"Ye cannae seriously think that –"

"We heard rumors too. Rumors that it was ye. Ye were the only one who had anything tae gain. Everyone said it."

"Who's everyone?"

"Lamont clan," she went on. "Ye were made laird because of yer faither's death. It was all fer power and land, wasnae it? Tae gain this clan and our braither's." She nodded to Lydia as she spoke too. "Well, ye willnae get it. Cassian takes great care these days. He willnae be hurt by one of yer assassins."

"I have nay assassins. I have never hired one tae go after yer braither."

"The last assassin was seen wearing this clan's tartan."

"Oh, and he couldnae have bought that from a seamstress or raided a Stuart store, could this assassin?" Laird Stuart said with thick wryness. "I'm nay assassin, but as a soldier, I ken well enough that anyone looking tae kill would try tae shift blame elsewhere if they were going tae dae it."

Elara hesitated, not quite answering. There was some truth in that suggestion. Why hadn't the assassin shed his clan colors before attacking Cassian?

"Listen tae me." Laird Stuart moved toward her sharply. He did something that alarmed her, dropping to his knees in front of the chair. She recoiled back in her seat as much as she could. "I loved me faither and me stepmaither. They raised me. I never wanted them dead, and I certainly never, as God is me witness, would I have raised a hand tae hurt them. Especially nae fer our lairdship, which I never even wanted in the first place."

There was sudden silence in the room. Elara stared at him. He'd spoken with convincing passion.

The silence continued, with none of them uttering a single word. In the calmness, Elara didn't know what to think. Had she not spent so long believing it was Laird Stuart, maybe she could have been convinced by this sudden performance, but she pulled back from such a feeling. Who else benefitted from him? Besides, was he not a monster? Had he not drugged her? Had he not tied her up?

Yet these thoughts faded away when another angrier voice spoke in her mind.

I tried tae drug him first. He caught me, laid me tae sleep in his bed, and claimed he tied me up in self-defense.

"Well?" he asked, standing again. "Dae ye believe me?"

She was silent. She couldn't believe him, but neither was she ready to discount what he had said either.

He looked at his friend who simply offered a shrug, having no more idea what was happening than he did.

"All right." Laird Stuart gestured to the ties on Elara's arms. "If I take them off, do ye at least agree tae be calm? Nae tae lash out?"

"I agree," she said begrudgingly.

"Good." He moved toward her and untied the ropes. He had fastened them in such a way that in one firm tug, they came away. She stared in awe at the mastery he had with the ropes then stood up swiftly, walking around the chair so it was between them. He didn't move to follow her. "Marcus," he turned to his friend, gesturing for him to release Lydia's shoulder. He did so at once. "I'll call fer the council. We need tae discuss this at once."

"What dae ye need tae speak tae them about?" Elara asked, gripping to the back of the chair.

"If ye are right, and that is if…" he paused, waiting for this to sink it. "Then I need tae prove it. I need tae be certain that me faither and stepmaither were murdered. I'll talk about options with the council. It also means that after yer braither, I could be the next target. In the meantime, let's get ye both out of this chamber. I dinnae need me staff talking about me having sisters in me chamber."

Marcus smiled but said nothing and both men strode out of the room.

Elara didn't move at first. She stood there, staring at Lydia, who bore the same wide-eyed look of confusion.

"Are ye coming?" Laird Stuart's voice barked from the corridor outside. "Or have ye developed a taste fer me bedchamber after all?"

"That God damned man," she muttered and moved forward. She grabbed Lydia's hand and towed her out of the room too. "What are ye doing here? How reckless were ye tae come?"

"I was worried," Lydia whispered. "Did ye expect me tae just wait in that inn? It's morning, Elara. Ye could have been dead fer all I kenned. And I couldnae actually attack, so me only chance was coming peacefully and beg them tae spare ye."

Elara wished to say she had had things under control, but she knew very well she had not. When they reached Laird Stuart and Marcus, the two men turned and led a path toward the staircase. Uncertain what to believe or to do, Elara started to follow with her sister at her side.

"Send word tae the council at once please," Laird Stuart said to his friend.

It was odd, but Elara found herself listening intently to his words. The fact that a monster like Laird Stuart was prepared to do anything so simple as say ‘please' was a surprise to her.

"They'll suggest sending out yer spies. Ye ken that."

"I dae. I also want tae hear what they ken. If there are rumors in Clan Lamont, then there could be rumors about me being involved here too. There's a chance the council hasnae been honest with me," he said with a grudging tone as they reached another floor of the stairs. Laird Stuart halted and turned to face them both.

"Can we come tae this meeting?" Elara asked. His eyebrows shot so far up his head in alarm, they nearly disappeared into his dark hair line. "We have a right. Our parents were murdered too."

"Aye, and ye're clearly an individual that can be trusted, arenae ye?" he asked with thick sarcasm. "Ye tried tae drug me, ye attacked me, and ye searched me room."

"She seduced ye too," Marcus reminded him, bearing a smile.

"Enough," Laird Stuart warned.

Being reminded of what she had done made Elara shift her weight between her feet. That kiss they had shared pressed against the inn door was a long time ago now.

As she thought of it, she considered that it was possible she might not have to be so furious with herself after all about that kiss. What if she had liked kissing a man who wasn't a murderer after all?

Dinnae believe him that easily. I need tae be certain.

"This way." Laird Stuart beckoned them all.

"Where are we taking them?"

"Nae tae the dungeons," Laird Stuart said, as if he was reading Marcus' mind.

Elara felt Lydia flinch beside her.

"That man is determined tae see us in a cell," she whispered, though not particularly quietly. Lydia earned a dark glare from Marcus for these words over his shoulder.

"They arenae prisoners, but they need tae stay here until we can verify what they have tae say." Laird Stuart stopped walking down the passageway and pushed on a door.

Elara didn't step forward to look, though he clearly intended her to do so. From where she was standing, she could see it was a guest chamber in the castle.

"Did ye nae just say we arenae yer prisoners?" She folded her arms. "That means I am nae going intae another chamber ye could lock me in."

"Ye will be brought food." His eyes wandered down her clothes. "I suggest I send a man tae get yer things from the inn too. I dinnae imagine ye rode all the way from Clan Lamont wearing that."

"Ye seemed tae like me in this last night," Elara reminded him. Lydia snickered beside her.

"Dinnae remind me of it," he said darkly. "That is something I wish tae forget."

For some reason, these words made Elara shift again. She was finding it very hard to forget what they may have ended up doing together in that room had circumstances been different. For all the anger, all the frustration, she had been attracted to him last night… Even now as she looked at him, she couldn't oust the feeling entirely.

"I'll have yer clothes and some food brought. I suggest ye get some rest." He gestured once more in through the doorway.

Elara held Lydia's hand tightly. Together, they stood their ground, refusing to move.

"It's like talking tae statues," Laird Stuart muttered to his friend.

"I was thinking it was more like talking tae two petulant children," Marcus rebuffed.

"Hey," Lydia muttered sharply. The way they both looked at him in surprise meant Elara didn't catch the fact that Laird Stuart had suddenly moved, not until it was too late.

"What – what are ye doing!?" she cried as he bent down toward her. In one swift movement, he had put his shoulder against her hip and lifted her off the floor. She scrambled to be free, but his greater strength won out and she was flung over his shoulder. "Put me down this instant!" She tried to kick at his stomach, but he bound her legs to his chest with his thick arm, leaving her immobile. "Ye monster, ye murderer –" she cried out, pulling at the back of his waistcoat to be free as he marched her into the chamber.

"We have been over this. I am nae murderer." His voice was deep, reverberating against her body.

"Release me. Ah!" she yelped as she was flung backward.

"What? I did as ye asked me too," he said with supposed innocence.

She had a soft landing on a bed. She scrambled to sit up, eyeing him with wariness as he stood at the bottom of the bed.

"I cannae allow ye tae run riot around this castle after all ye have done last night. Ye should be thankful I'm nae putting ye in a dungeon after ye tried tae crack me skull open last night." He backed up from her, moving back to the door.

Lydia was thrust inside of the room by Marcus. She was so petite, Marcus didn't even have to pick her up. He just took her arm and steered her inside.

"Ye arenae leaving us locked in here," Elara cried to the door as she chased Laird Stuart back out again.

He halted in the doorway, barring her exit with his hands on the frame, looking down at her.

"Let's make something plain," he said huskily, bending down toward her. "I am laird in this castle, and I have danced tae yer tune all night. The tide is turning, Elara," he said her name with some delight, clearly enjoying the fact that he had such power now. "If what ye say is true, then I'll prove it soon enough." He looked down her once again.

She stiffened, well aware of where his eyes went. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide her cleavage.

"Still got that headache?" he asked, his eyes returning to her face.

"How did ye ken that?" she asked tartly, uncertain what upset her more, the fact he could read her so well, or that he seemed to have this concern for her.

Something burned in her gut.

I have tae hate him. I dae. I cannae believe so easily that he didnae kill our parents.

"Ye were drugged. It's tae be expected. When I send up the food, take something tae drink. Now, if ye would excuse me."

"Ye say that as if I have a choice – Laird Stuart!" She tried to reach out to him, to stop him shutting the door on her, but she failed miserably. Elara threw herself into the door as she heard the lock click into place. "Laird Stuart, come back here!" she ranted, but no answer came.

In the end, she was forced to lean on the door, facing the room where she caught sight of Lydia sitting neatly on the edge of a bed.

"Elara," Lydia said, her voice just audible above Elara's heavy pants.

"What?"

"I dinnae think he did it. I dinnae think he's a murderer after all."