“I am still looking into that. Speak to your father as soon as you can and find out what’s going on. I shall continue my search in the meantime.” He stretched his arms into the air above him, yawning loudly. “Now the night draws on and my watch is soon. Let us talk of lighter things for a moment. Who is this woman I hear has caught the eye of the laird?”
“Who told you that?”
“Robin and his loose tongue. Come on, who is she?”
Jock folded his arms across his chest. “It matters not beside such dark intrigue.”
“Come, come. You have never shown a hint of interest in women before now. She must be pretty special. A princess perhaps? Daughter of a Norseman? An Englishman? No? Good God, then who is she?”
Jock managed a laugh. “Maybe a witch.”
“Dinnae tell me you’ve fallen in love with a witch.”
“I didnae say I was in love.” He brought the key out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “This mean anything to you?”
Lachlan looked surprised for a moment but then his face vanished behind his tankard. “Your father spoke of something like this once, many years ago. Where did you get this?”
“A girl brought it to my room. Said it was for me.”
Lachlan turned the key over in his hand before passing it back. “In my day when a woman wished for the favor of a gentleman and could not say so out loud, she would instead give him such a thing. The key to her heart, they used to call it. He would either unlock her heart and keep the key or he would hand it back and send her on her way. Which will you do?”
“That tradition is long gone, as you ken. It belongs to another time.”
“Perhaps she is from that time. There is something else though, I see it in your eyes. What is it?”
“I fear she may be possessed.” He lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “By a demon.” He brought out the pen and passed it across the table. “Have you ever seen anything like that before?”
“Never. Where did you find this?”
“I took it from her. She called it a pen.”
“Get it out of sight before anyone sees.”
Jock looked around. At once several faces turned away, all staring intently at their drinks. He pocketed the pen once more. “If she returns to me, I fear I may not be able to resist her.”
“Then do not see her again. What does she look like?”
“Slim, short, innocent looking. Unmarked skin. Dark brown hair, long.”
“You mean you saw it uncovered?” Lachlan raised his eyebrows. “No coif?”
Jock knew what his friend was suggesting. “She is not one of them.”
“The only women I ken with uncovered hair would take money from men for-”
Jock bristled. “I said she is not that sort of woman.”
“Just the ordinary possessed sort who hands silver keys and magic pens to lairds?”
“You mock me.”
Lachlan stood up. “Never. Alas, I must away to my watch. You, my good friend, should watch yourself. Have you thought that she may have been sent to distract you while your coffers were further raided?”
“There is nothing else left to take.”
“There is always something more to lose.”
“That is as may be.”
