“Has he been questioned about the fire?” Gray pulled a fold of his plaid up over his head as the downpour became heavier and sleet joined the rain. The wet spring weather would delay cleanup and rebuilding. He squinted up into the sky. Foals would be coming soon. A temporary shelter for the horses would have to be made. He returned his attention to the unknown man limping through the debris. “Colum, has the man been questioned?”
When Colum still didn’t respond, Gray turned, then rolled his eyes. No wonder the man at arms had failed to answer. His cock had taken control.
Colum stood at the far side of the balcony, motionless, eyes trained on a young woman as she scampered out into the gardens with a bit of cloth held over her head.
Gray walked over and nudged Colum out of his paralysis. “Ye best not let Granny see ye drooling over that one. She will think ye lied about having no interest in wedding.” He nudged him again. “By the way, have ye stolen a kiss yet?”
Colum shifted his stance and adjusted his plaid as though he suddenly needed a bit more room from the waist down. “Aye, and the promise of more.” He leaned out over the wall and watched the girl fill a basket with snips of herbs. “Her lips are sweet as honey wine and ye can lay odds she will warm my bed this verra night.”
Gray shook his head and strolled alongside the railing. Colum’s bed was never empty long, but what the poor maidens failed to realize was Colum enjoyed the chase almost more than the catch. Once they succumbed and warmed his chambers, his interest quickly waned. “Ye say that about all the maids. Have ye yet to find the one capable of warming yer heart?”
Colum made a face and adjusted his sword belt. “The only part of my body I care to warm is located a bit lower than my heart.”
Gray understood completely. He had once felt the same—before he met Trulie. Colum would someday meet his match, especially if Granny Sinclair made up her mind the man should wed. “Aye. Well. Ye best take care and give Granny Sinclair a wide berth.”
“By the way...” Colum’s interest in the topic disappeared as the curvaceous girl disappeared back into the keep. “What date have ye set for yer wedding?”
Irritation grated against Gray’s nerves, making the day even more unpleasant. “No date has been determined.”
Colum cocked an eyebrow but said nary a word.
“The woman will not agree to a date until she has resolved what she calls ourissues.” Gray hissed out the word as though it were a curse. And it damn near was. What good was Trulie’s promise to marry if she would not agree to a day?
“Set the date,” Colum said. “Ye are the chieftain. Name the place and time.”
“She said if I did that she would not attend,” Gray said. “I already thought to try that.”
“And I dinna suppose trussing her up and carrying her to the church would work?” Colum leaned forward as though ready to make it happen if Gray just gave the word.
“I would prefer she come to me of her own free will.” Gray blew out a frustrated breath. He had to admit he rather liked the idea of a bound and gagged Trulie delivered to the church on a day of his choice, but lore a’mighty, there would be hell to pay once she was freed of her bonds.
Colum shrugged and nodded his agreement. “Well, what issue is she wanting to be resolved?”
Gray counted off the items on his fingers. “Two murders, two fires, and two attempted murders.”
“Two attempted murders?” Colum asked. “Who?”
Gray grinned. “You and I, my friend.” He clapped a hand on Colum’s shoulder. “According to Mistress Trulie, it appears we are about to be poisoned.”
Colum stared at Gray as though he had lost his mind. “For truth?”
“Aye.”
“Speaking of poison.” Colum’s troubled expression shifted to one of anticipation. “Is this not the day of Lady Aileas’s exodus?”
Gray chuckled. Just the thought of the keep without Aileas’s annoying presence made the day suddenly brighter. “Aye. Today is the day. Her servants should be loading her trunks as we speak.”
“Ye know Fearghal has gone missing?” Colum bobbed his head up and down as if to stress his words. “No one has seen neither hide nor hair of the dolt since the guard dragged him from the hall.”
Gray tossed his plaid back over his shoulder. “What say ye?”
“No one has seen Fearghal,” Colum repeated, slowly enunciating his words as though Gray were a child. “Pray tell me ye did not allow someone other than myself the pleasure of slitting the bastard’s throat?”
Gray frowned and shook his head. “I gave no such order.” He turned away and continued his pacing across the length of the gallery. That news did not set well at all. Fearghal missing was a great deal like discovering a diseased rat hiding in the walls of the keep. Fearghal never ventured far from his mother. Even as a grown man, he depended on his brute of a mother to protect him. Gray had no doubt the sniveling drunkard was capable of evil as long as the man could orchestrate it while cowering in the shadows of his mother’s skirts.
He turned and gave Colum a stern nod. “I want him found. Immediately.”
* * *
