“Discovering traitors?”
“Aye. Reddoch lore says a blade this pure turns black when in the presence of treachery.”
He believed every word of the legend. She saw it in his eyes. Resting a hand on his arm, she offered a solemn nod. “Then I am glad you have it.” But while silver repelled the angry wraith and protected those in its presence, unfortunately, it did not vanquish the problem permanently. “I wish we had enough silver to cover the keep,” she said with a glance back at the carnage.
“Ye have not married royalty, my love. I am merely a chieftain.” Grant flinched as another floor inside the keep collapsed. “I fear I dinna possess that much wealth.”
“Ye be an earl,” Malcolm countered. “Dinna forget that.”
“A title does little to solve this problem, my friend.”
“Be that as it may,” Lyla said. “At least we know silver protects. We should gather every bit of silver we have and pass it out. It doesn’t have to be a coin. Even something as small as a thimble should do. As long as the wraith can recognize it as silver.”
“And then what?” Grant gave her that look she hated. The look that said he thought her ridiculous and her idea outlandish.
“I don’t know yet. All I know is that I don’t want to give that thing the satisfaction of running us from our home.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Neither do I, my love. Neither do I.”
Chapter Five
Weeks spent sleepingin the church while the men repaired the keep had successfully frazzled Lyla’s last nerve. But with the bell silenced and the main building empty, the wraith had made no more appearances. Not even something as meek as a chamberstick sliding across a table. Maybe it was over. She hoped so, but her gut feeling laughed at that foolish notion. It was not over. Merideth, or whatever it was, had not left them. Lyla felt it as surely as her child’s damp swaddling that signaled it was time for another dry nappy.
“What are you plotting?” Abby asked.
“Nothing. Why?” With her infant’s tiny ankles gently lifted in one hand, Lyla deftly swept the wet cloth out from under the baby’s bum and replaced it with a dry one. She bent and kissed her dear one’s button nose, smiling as the babe batted at her face. “That feels better. Doesn’t it, my sweet girl?”
She ignored Abby’s question, knowing her sister would rat her out to Malcolm who would immediately tell Grant. It had happened before. That regular chain reaction always foiled her plans.
“Lyla?”
“If you must know, I am working out a way to seduce my husband and engage in a little stress relief.” While not entirely true, it wasn’t a bad idea if the opportunity presented itself. Their temporary communal living meant little privacy, and quick tumbles snatched here and there only left her aching for more. Grant had complained of the same. Trouble was, she actually planned to use it as an excuse to test the safety of the keep so they might move out of the church and back where they belonged.
Grant had pronounced their solar and bedchambers livable yesterday, but refused to move back in, saying they should give it more time. Wait and see if the spirit realized a nice new grave in hallowed ground waited for it to settle down for an eternal nap.
Lyla disagreed. Instinct told her the entity was merely biding its time until they relaxed their guard. But she had a plan. The wraith feared silver for a reason. What would happen if it found itself covered in the dust of the precious metal? Would that destroy it? Send it back to the grave permanently? The only flaw in the plan was convincing the spirit to manifest long enough for a good powdering. And would a handful of ground silver stick to the dark form the entity sometimes took or merely go through it?
“Lyla!”
“What?” Scooping her child up to her shoulder, she jerked around and faced her sister.
Abby shook a finger within an inch of her nose. “You are up to something, and I refuse to believe it’s something as innocent as an afternoon snogging with your husband.”
“Don’t you have something more productive to do? Shouldn’t you check to see if anyone needs your medical expertise?” She was in no mood for an interrogation. Especially not from Abby.
“You’re not going to tell me. Are you?”
“Absolutely not.” She rhythmically patted the wee one’s rump while swaying back and forth to convince the lamb to go to sleep. With an unyielding glare locked on her sister, she waited for her to either see sense and leave it or escalate the argument. And lose. She refused to be stopped this time.
Abby blew out a heavy sigh and seemed to wilt. “Will you at least be careful?”
“I will.”
“And don’t forget to wear your silver,” her twin added as she eased the sleeping baby into her arms. “I’ll take her to her sister. I know they sleep better when they’re together.”
Lyla lifted her necklace from the folds of the kerchief tucked into the top of her bodice. “I am armed and ready.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Abby said, then turned and walked away.
