“Good Lord,” Duncan breathed. “Was that really necessary?”
“He was never going to talk,” Jack muttered as he pulled the blade free. He wiped it on his sleeve until it was clean and sheathed it.
He looked once at the prisoner’s face, then away.
“Post more guards,” he ordered. “Double the watch at the north tower.”
“Aye, me Laird,” Troy said.
“Nay one leaves without me permission,” Jack added. “Am I understood?”
“Aye,” Troy said again.
Jack nodded and turned toward the door.
“And what do we do with the body?” Troy asked.
“Grant him his wish and burn him outside the walls,” Jack instructed. “Hopefully, that will send the right message.”
Troy bowed his head. “It will be done.”
Duncan lifted the bar and pulled the door open. Then, he stood aside and let Jack pass. He did not touch his brother’s sleeve, and he did not speak. The silence between them grew thicker with each step back up.
When they stepped outside, the air felt less cold, and the torchlight grew less harsh. Jack flexed his hand once and moved forward, making a mental note to clean it in the basin once he returned to his chamber. Duncan followed anyway, the silence between them still thick.
“Ye will tell me when ye have the watch set,” Jack said without turning.
“I will,” Duncan replied.
They walked for a while longer, passing maids who stopped to greet them on their way to their respective duties. Troy caught up as they rounded a corner that led straight to the Laird’s quarters.
“Me Laird,” the man-at-arms started. “Do ye want a guard in the guest passage? Or will we keep the women clear of this talk altogether?”
“Keep them clear,” Jack said. “The lass doesnae need to learn of this from a loose tongue.”
“Aye.”
“And the bairn’s chambers,” Jack added. “Nay one is allowed inside except the assigned maids. Then Emma and me maither.”
“Aye.”
Jack nodded and made his way further down the corridor. Not now or ever will anything happen to Stella or Emma. He did not care just how many people he needed to kill to prevent that, but he knew it wouldn’t happen.
Not on his watch.
CHAPTER 17
Noon camebefore Emma could blink, and soon, they were all assembled in the Great Hall again. Plates and cups went down the table in a steady line, and the women gathered to take the food with nothing but grace.
Catriona was speaking with Olivia about the market in the village, and Ava was arguing with two maids over the price of ribbons.
“A ribbon shouldnae cost more than a loaf,” Ava stated, turning the strip between her fingers. “Nae when the bread is this soft.”
“Bread fills a belly, me Lady,” the older maid reasoned. “Ribbons cannae do the same.”
“And what are we buying?” Olivia asked, amused. “Bread or vanity?”
“Both,” Ava said. “If I can wring a penny from the stall, I will.”
