“What have you seen?”he demanded of Agnes, his manner so fierce that she did not have to pretend to be afraid of him.
She retreated hastily.“Naught, sir.I only wonder, though it is not my place to do so.”
Both Templars got to their feet in unison, moving so abruptly that the chess pieces were toppled.Enguerrand’s fists were clenched.“What have you seen, girl?”he repeated.
“I dare not make a false accusation,” Agnes said, dropping her gaze as if she were demure.“Although it seemed most odd to me that my lady left her chamber in such haste that morning, with a burden I could not see.It was only natural to wonder what it might be.”
The old laird inhaled sharply.
“A bundle?”echoed Enguerrand.
Agnes described a shape with her hands, of about the size of the reliquary.“It looked to be dirty linens, but that could not be.”She strove to appear mystified as to what it might be.
“Why not?”
“My lady did not have so much garb until Margaret completed her new kirtles.And, if it was but laundry, sir, why be secretive about its removal from the solar?”
The Templar caught his breath.“What morning?”he demanded.
“The one after my laird swore his handfast to her.I had completed my labor in the solar and was taking out the slops, sir.”It was remarkable how easy it was to fashion a lie and have it believed.Agnes thrilled at her easy triumph.
“That was the day Fergus rode to Dunnisbrae,” muttered the Templar.
“Before he had the second keys made,” Agnes noted and the old laird gave her a hard look.
The other Templar said something about “Saracen,” which was perfect, in Agnes’ view.The old laird took exception to the comment, which indicated that it had not been kind, and they argued briefly in French.Agnes returned to her sweeping, hoping for the result she desired.
“Where did she go?”Enguerrand asked Agnes, his eyes flashing.
“I regret, sir, that I do not know.”Agnes looked Enguerrand right in the eye.“I had duties to attend and was not at liberty to follow my lady.”She bowed her head.“Nor would I show such disrespect as to question her, sir.”
“You question her now,” the old laird noted.
“And rightly so,” whispered Enguerrand.He studied Agnes for a long moment, then his lips thinned.He turned to the old laird and made a demand.The old laird appeared to be vexed by whatever Enguerrand asked him and did not relinquish his grip upon his keys.The pair exchanged a few harsh words in French, and it was evident the old laird would defend the infidel to the last.
Enguerrand barked a command to his comrade, then marched out of the hall.The Templar set a course for the garden, and Agnes resumed her sweeping, well content with the results of a few well-chosen words.
“Agnes, Agnes,” the old laird murmured, his tone chiding.“What have you done?”
“I, my lord?Naught at all.”Agnes held his gaze, striving to look as innocent as might be.“Laird Fergus says it is best to always tell the truth, sir.”
“Indeed,” the old laird said, then his lips tightened.He toyed with the keys, his expression troubled, and Agnes let him fret about the fate of the infidel.
She would get what she deserved, in Agnes’ view, and soon Laird Fergus would be in need of another wife.Laird Stewart had not arrived at the gates, nor had he sent Nolan to learn what she knew, so evidently he had neither the wits nor the desire to respond to her message.More fool him.Agnes had repaid her debt to Laird Stewart, in her estimation, and was thus released from any obligation.
At any rate, she liked the look of Laird Fergus much more than that of Laird Stewart.Let Lady Isobel keep her husband.Agnes had chosen another finer one.
She could scarce hold her pace steady as she swept the floor, for anticipation made her heart pound.But an appearance of innocence and honesty was key to the success of her scheme.
Agnes even managed to look startled when Laird Fergus and Enguerrand appeared in the hall and hastened past her to the stairs.She stumbled a little and Laird Fergus caught her elbow, ensuring that she had found her balance, before he charged toward the solar with the Templar, the second trailing behind them.
She smiled, pleased by his attention, and felt the weight of the old laird’s assessing gaze upon her.It mattered little what he thought of her now.
Indeed, his opinion might not be of import for much longer.Laird Calum was aged and feeble.If he defended the infidel whore too much, Agnes might be compelled to hasten his demise.
It would be in pursuit of a good cause, after all.
In a way, Leila was glad to have the truth revealed.
