Chapter Twelve

Morag twirled a freshly picked bluebell between her fingers and smiled as the women walked alongside the perimeter of the wall that led toward the waters surrounding Skye. "You were right," she admitted on a grin, "I feel a lot better now. Sunshine and sea breeze was just the thing."

Janet tossed a tawny ringlet over her shoulder and smiled. "It is quite beautiful here, isn't it?"

"Mmm. Like a dream."

Janet stopped when they came toward an area of the wall with a hole in it. Gliding up to it, she put her eye against it and looked to what was beyond the stone structure. "Wow. Morag come look at this. The beach out there is about the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Morag tried to oblige her, but wasn't able to see anything. "I'm shorter than you by a good three inches and you are standing on tiptoe. I canna see a blessed thing."

Janet chuckled. "Too bad. It's so pretty."

Morag thought that over for a second as she surveyed the wall. "We could try to climb to the top using these holes as footfalls."

Janet wrinkled her nose at that. "What if we fall? No thanks!"

Morag sighed. "Janet, we may love our husbands but let's face it, there is no' a damn thing to do in this time. If we fall, so what. At least trying to climb the wall gives us something to do for the next fifteen minutes!"

Janet half laughed and half snorted. "True."

Five minutes later the women had gotten no more than half way up the wall when the thundering sound of horses' hooves came rumbling from the castle bailey charging toward them at top speed.

Morag crinkled up her face, glancing over her shoulder without letting go of her hold on the wall. "Is that my Stuart?"

Janet used one hand to shield her eyes from the sun's glare. "Yep. And that looks like Euan with him too." She winced when she heard Stuart's cursing. "Wonder what's got him so upset?"

Morag's eyes widened. "You do no' suppose we are under attack?"

Janet wasn't given the opportunity to answer. Twenty mounted men came to an abrupt halt at the wall just then, all of them staring straight up at the women from below ground. They looked distinctly uncomfortable, Janet thought, which seemed a bit odd. But then again, Stuart was cursing loud enough to wake the dead. That would make anybody uncomfortable.

"What are you bellowing over now?" Morag screeched, her nostrils flaring as she glanced defiantly down toward her husband.

Stuart didn't answer that. He didn't bother. Janet thought his face looked red enough to start a campfire off of. "Get," he said distinctly, spacing out his words evenly, "down from there now."

Morag chose that moment to contradict him. "No," she sniffed. "I will no'."

A tic began to work in Stuart's jaw which Janet found curious. He really seemed to be overreacting to the situation if indeed she and Morag's excursion up the wall was what had set him off.

"Morag!" he bellowed. "Running away will do ye no' a bit of good. I will find ye every time. And punish ye just as I will when I get my hands on ye!"

Morag rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, like I'll come down now," she said dryly, "knowin' you plan to punish me and all." She sighed. "I mean really Stuart, you—" She broke off as she glanced toward Janet. Confused, she threw her a baffled look before doing the same to her husband. "Wait one moment. What do you mean aboot running away, Stuart? I was no' running away. We were but climbing the wall to get a look at the beach on the other side."

A few muffled laughs rose up from the soldiers on horseback, inducing Janet to wince. Geez but she couldn't blame them. She knew for a fact Morag was telling the truth, but climbing a wall to look at the beach? It truly did sound like a lie, and a weak one at that.

"Climbing a wall tae look at the bluidy beach?" Stuart laughed mirthlessly. "How lackwitted do ye think I am, woman?"

When Morag opened her mouth to speak, Janet forestalled her by coming to her defense. She was afraid that, as angry as her best friend was, she might have chosen to actually answer Stuart's question thereby getting herself into hotter waters with him. "It's the truth," she said with a nod, gazing down at her brother-in-law. "She wasn't running away. We were just bored and we wanted to—"

"Enough."

That one word, uttered quietly yet icily from Euan was enough to send a shiver up Janet's spine. She flicked her gaze down toward her husband, swallowing roughly when she realized how angry he was. But there was more than anger in his expression. There was something else. Something that looked remarkably like…pain.

Oh no! she thought in a flash of realization, Euan actually believed that Morag had been trying to run away. And worse yet, Janet now understood that he believed her to be guilty of the same crime. Her eyes rounding, she implored her husband to listen. "You don't really think I was trying to run from you do you?"

He said nothing. Merely stared at her.

"Do you?" she asked shrilly.

Euan was wearing his mask again, Janet noted with more than a little trepidation. His black gaze was boring holes into her, the line of his jaw stubborn and unbending. Her eyes widened nervously.

After what felt like an eternity, Euan broke his harsh gaze from hers and threw a command at one of his men. "Get her down from there," he said with seeming indifference. "And lock her in my bedchamber."