Caiden continued, feeling the stare of the man who knew him best. Finally, he halted suddenly. "She's a McGowan," he said at last, his voice low, though it cut through the wind like steel. "Her sister is wife to Laird Theodore McGowan." The words seemed to hang in the cold air between them.
Eric stopped short, his brows shooting up. "I dinnae ken that, Laird, when we went on the mission. I swear it," he said, his tone more cautious now. "We should return her immediately before word reaches them."
"I will do nay such thing," Caiden said flatly, the set of his jaw unyielding. "Nae until I have the paintin'." His gaze swept the horizon, as if the answer might be found somewhere beyond the tumbling grey waves.
Eric's frown deepened. "This could bring the McGowan clan to battle us," he said. "We have nay quarrel with them, none worth the risk of spillin' Highland blood." His voice carried the weight of a man who'd seen too many feuds end in graves.
Caiden's eyes narrowed, and there was a cold certainty in his expression. "Aye, hence the reinforcements I ordered. However, it is unlikely since they daenae ken we have her," he said. "Nay one saw us but her guard, and to his eyes we looked like nothin' more than bandits. That buys us time until I ken how to use her to get the paintin' back." His gaze was fixed ahead, the wind snapping at his cloak as if urging him onward.
Eric exhaled slowly, shaking his head but saying no more. The sea roared below, indifferent to the schemes of men, and the castle walls stood unyielding against the wind. Somewhere within those walls, the lass in question waited; but whether she was bait, a bargaining chip, or something more, only Caiden knew. And he intended to keep it that way.
Maisie's voice still rang in his ears, brimming with enthusiasm when she had spoken of his mother's paintings, her face alight as if she had stumbled upon treasure.
It was rare for him to hear anyone care so deeply about those works, rarer still for someone to speak of them with suchunguarded joy. Something in her manner stirred an ache in his chest, an old, half-buried pride for the woman who had raised him.
He should have ignored Maisie, but the spark of interest refused to die. Even as he reached for his cup, he reminded himself that no matter how beautiful or intriguing she was, he could not get closer.
The memory of blood, of danger, of what his hands were capable of, lingered like a shadow. He was not the sort of man who could offer safety to a woman like her. His life was carved from stone and steel, not soft smiles and gentle company. She would do well to keep her distance from him, and he from her.
Eric eyes flicked toward Caiden with the faintest smirk, as though he could see the direction of his thoughts.
"Have ye learnt anythin' more from the lass besides her name?"
Caiden's gaze shifted to him, his expression impassive. "Nay. She seems entirely ignorant of the theft. Nae a flicker in her manner that says otherwise."
Eric arched a brow, his tone light but probing. "Ye're certain? Folk can hide things well when they've a mind to."
"Aye, they can," Caiden replied. "But this one… she doesnae strike me as the sort with a talent for deceit. Still, I'd wager the thief will try to contact her again. She's the perfect tether,so we will keep her here till I figure out how to use that to our advantage."
Eric leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Ye mean to use her as bait."
"Aye." Caiden's voice was flat, as if stating the inevitable. "The man responsible will nae risk losin' whatever connection he has to her."
Eric gave a low whistle and shook his head. "Ye've a cold mind for the work, Caiden. But I ken ye're right. If the thief believes she's alone and carryin' coin, he might think her a good target and show himself."
"When he does, I'll be there." Caiden's tone held no room for doubt.
Eric's lips quirked, half in approval, half in warning. "Just be careful. Lass like that, easy for a man to forget the plan when she's lookin' at him with those big eyes."
Caiden's jaw tightened, though his gaze remained steady. "I daenae forget. I never forget."
Eric gave a slow nod, his smirk fading. "Aye, I suppose ye daenae. But danger comes in many forms. Nae all of them carry a blade."
For a moment, Caiden said nothing. He knew Eric was right, Maisie was a danger of a different kind. One that could slip past steel and armor and sink into places he had long kept guarded. He would have to keep his distance, for her sake and his own.
Caiden looked up and saw Maisie standing on a tower balcony.
"Then the sooner a plan is put into place the better, is it nae?" Eric said. "If the man sells the paintin' to someone else, we will never find it."
"Aye, ye're right," Caiden said. "For now, see to the reinforcements and post a watch on each road into the castle and into the farthest villages on our borders. If McGowan clan makes a move this way, I want to be warned of it."
"Aye, consider it done," Eric said.
With that Caiden left the walls and entered the castle tower until he found Maisie. It was time he started on a plan to catch the thief.
"Ye. Lass. Follow me," he said, his voice low but carrying command.
Maisie stopped dead, her eyes narrowing like a cat cornered. "I'd rather go to me rooms," she said, her tone clipped and cool.
