“He will if all that calf owns then comes to him as her husband.”
He nodded when she paled. It was easy to see that she was valiantly fighting that fear, pushing aside his truth for the one she had believed for so long. It was a start, however. The very fact that she felt that fear, no matter how brief, told him that she did not have complete faith in the innocence of her betrothed or her guardians. Cecily was too smart not to see that none of them was a good person, that they each lacked any true morals, and it was but a short step from that to seeing that they could indeed be plotting her demise.
Deciding to let her think on all he had said so far, Artan fetched the bag she had brought to their tryst. He spread out a blanket, then gently urged her to sit down on it. Ignoring her scowl, he tied their ankles together before he untied her hands so that she could eat and drink. Artan felt sure she would not try to attack him again, but he suspected she would still try to run if he gave her a chance. Until she accepted the danger that awaited her at the hands of her guardians and betrothed, he could not allow her too much freedom.
The silence that held while they each had something to eat and shared some wine was not a comfortable one, but he let it stand. Even if she did come to believe him about the threat from ones she had long considered her family and the man she had been about to marry, there was still the matter of how their romantic tryst by the burn had ended. It would be a while before she began to forgive him for that. He just hoped it was not too long, for just thinking about those heady moments they had shared in the moonlight had him aching for her.
Cecily was surprised she could eat anything she was so knotted up with fear, anger, and doubt. Being kidnapped obviously gave one a hearty appetite, she thought crossly, then sighed. Looking beyond her hurt over what she saw as Artan’s gross betrayal, she had to admit that he had not really hurt her. If he really believed what he was saying about Anabel, Edmund, and Fergus, then he had truly been thinking only of her safety.
She inwardly shook her head. It could not be true. Not one of those three people was a particularly good person, but she could not believe they would actually steal from her for twelve long years and then want her dead. And how would Sir Fergus have become a part of all this? He had never been close friends with Edmund or Anabel, so Cecily could not believe they had suddenly taken the man into their confidence. And if they truly had been cheating her for so long, they would hardly willingly hand everything over to Fergus.
“Just how did ye happen to hear all of this?” she suddenly asked. “I cannae believe Anabel and Edmund wouldnae be verra, verra careful if they were hiding something.”
“They were careful. After all, ye havenae heard anything and ye have lived with them for twelve years.”
“And yet ye come to Dunburn and within four days hear and know all?”
“I dinnae ken all, but I was simply in the right place at the right time and heard them. I think Lady Anabel’s voice could cut through steel,” he murmured, and caught the briefest flash of amusement in Cecily’s eyes. “As I passed by her solar, I heard her complaining that I wouldnae leave. Since I had been set upon several times since arriving, I was curious to hear if she spoke of any further plans to see me gone.”
“What do ye mean ye were set upon?”
“From the verra beginning I have been attacked at least once a day, most often twice. Ere we left Dunburn, the number of men set after me had grown to eight.”
“But I ne’er saw any wounds on ye, nay e’en a bruise or two.”
“There were a few after that last attack, but, nay, I was ne’er seriously wounded. Your uncle taught me weel, and the men sent after me werenae verra skilled in battle.”
He sounded so arrogant it made her teeth clench. Then Cecily recalled his entrance into the great hall that first day and decided he may have the right to be so arrogant about his fighting skills. She doubted any of the Donaldson or Ogilvey men could have gotten past all the guards and so casually held two men by their jupons, then tossed them aside with such ease.
“But why should anyone want to attack ye, to make ye leave? Sir Edmund invited ye to stay after all.”
“That doesnae mean he meant it. I come from your closest blood kin. It wouldnae be wise to cast me out, to refuse to allow me to stay for the wedding. Such treatment of your uncle’s emissary would raise questions, aye? And Sir Edmund doesnae want anyone asking questions.”
“I cannae see that Sir Edmund would worry about my uncle asking questions. The mon hasnae cared what happened to me since the day Da and Colin were killed. ’Tis only because he is facing the end of his life that he e’en recalled me.”
“Are ye sure of that?” Artan asked softly, and watched both doubt and hurt flicker over her face before she controlled it. “He says he has written ye and sent ye gifts, that he has often asked that ye be allowed to come stay with him at Glascreag. Ye say ye have written him and sent him gifts at Michaelmas, yet he got nothing.” He shrugged. “One has to wonder why when two people say they have done such things that neither of them received what was sent.”
Cecily opened her mouth to say that her uncle was a liar but could not get the words out. Her memories of her uncle had always been clear, partly because they were all tied up with the tragedy of watching her brother and father killed. Every little thing about that time was etched into her memory. Angus MacReith was blunt to the point of rudeness. She simply could not believe he would lie about writing to her or not receiving her letters. The various messengers she had used had never mentioned having any trouble, but then she had never pressed any of them very hard for information.
For a moment she felt almost panicked, but she took several deep breaths to calm herself. Even if it was true that Edmund and Anabel had deceived her about her uncle, had made certain that she believed the man had forgotten about her, it did not make the rest of what Artan said the truth. It could just mean that her guardians had not wanted Angus to try to interfere in her raising in even the smallest way.
Sensing that he had hit the mark with that revelation, Artan hurried to continue, “And though it shames me to admit to it, that last attack did leave me marked.” He yanked up his kilt to reveal the wound he had taken on his right thigh. “That mon willnae be abusing any more of Dunburn’s guests,” he said with some satisfaction. “And the attack did allow me to leave Thunderbolt at the burn, though I hated letting anyone think me fool enough to lose my horse.”
Cecily stared at the wound on his thigh. There was no denying that it was a sword wound. Artan had been very lucky. It had been a shallow cut, so shallow that it had already closed, even the hard ride through the night not tearing it open.
Once the shock of seeing his wound began to fade, however, she grew fascinated by the sight of his bared leg. Despite the long, thick hair on his head and the dark shadow of an emerging beard, Artan was not a very hirsute man. The covering of hair upon his long legs was light, revealing dark skin stretched taut over hard muscle. He even had attractive knees, she mused. Her hands actually itched to stroke that long, well-shaped leg.
When he pulled his kilt back down, Cecily blinked and then had to fight back a blush. It was obviously going to take some time for her to conquer her attraction to this man. She quickly turned her thoughts to the matter of his claims concerning Angus and how he himself had been attacked several times while at Dunburn. Since she had, more or less, accepted that her guardians could have worked to keep her and Angus apart, she supposed it was also possible that they had tried hard to rid themselves of Angus’s emissary. They would not want to risk her or Artan asking too many questions. It still did not mean that there was some insidious plot to cheat or murder her. After all, Artan was still alive. She quickly said as much to him.
Artan sighed but was able to push aside his annoyance over her continued disbelief. She was right. Just because her guardians might be guilty of keeping her away from Angus did not mean they plotted with Sir Fergus to kill her and keep her inheritance, one she still did not believe she had anyway.
“I ken what I heard, lass,” he said. “Sir Fergus is to marry ye and he has signed marriage contracts that will allow your guardians to legally claim Dunburn and a hefty purse. For that generosity he gets ye and a small fortune. He intends that your widow’s portion will also become a part of the spoils the three of them shall share. After he tires of ye he means to become a widower. I heard him say so.”
“Ye cannae expect me to believe Sir Fergus is capable of cold-blooded murder.”
“Just because he doesnae show much spine when confronted with a mon? E’en he could o’erpower ye, lass. Once married to him, ye wouldnae have any place to run either. And e’en if ye willnae believe the rest, believe that Sir Fergus is a brutal swine when dealing with lasses. Davida said he likes the play to be rough, and I myself caught him trying to rape a wee lass who couldnae be much past her first flux. Her gown was all torn and she was covered in bruises. ’Twas just last night ere I came down to the great hall. I threw the bastard against the wall, which was why he wasindisposed.”
“If he goes about raping the maids, why have I heard naught about it?”
