The world he thought he knew was no more. It had changed. She had changed it. When the messenger had gone, he had hunted out Lachlan, finding him in the tavern drinking alone. Rain was falling outside. Jock noted that Lachlan’s hair was dry. He’d been there for some time then.
Jock showed him the letter and the key and then explained his plans, drying himself by the fire while Lachlan listened.
He could use the key to unlock the bedchamber door as she had done, follow her to wherever she’d gone. Or he could let her go and concentrate on what mattered, getting the truth out of Robin before the king’s arrival.
“Robin has been gone all day,” Lachlan told him. “I have men out searching for him in case he has fled.”
“Has anyone seen him at all?”
“No but he told the almoner he was merely going to pay the last of the masons who worked on his house. Said he would be back by tomorrow.”
“I doubt that.”
“I have men watching the borders. If he tries to run, they will find him.”
“They better.”
Jock and Lachlan drank steadily as the night wore on. Jock felt the key weighing heavily in his pocket. “I shall go and see her,” Jock said at last. “I will not be long.”
“That may not be up to you.”
The door burst open and two heavily armed men appeared, water dripping down their armor. “We found him, attempting to hire a boat.”
Jock got to his feet. “Where is he now?”
“Outside, my laird.”
Jock and Lachlan followed the men out. Robin cut a forlorn figure. He was soaking wet, his clothes ruined and splattered with mud. He was trying to reason with his guards as they walked out. “I am financier of this clan and I demand that you release me.”
“Why would they do that?” Jock asked. “They do not answer to you. They answer to me.”
“For now,” Robin said, turning and looking straight at Jock. “How dare you do this to me? I have done nothing to deserve such treatment.”
“Where were you going, Robin?”
“Going? I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Then why were you at the docks trying to commission a ship to sail under you?”
“That’s a lie.”
Jock sighed. “Put him in the dungeon for the night. Maybe he’ll feel more talkative in the morning.”
“No,” Robin said as the men dragged him away. “You can’t do this to me.”
Jock marched up to him and lowered his voice to a growl. “You did this to yourself when you forged my signature on the assignation.”
He stepped back, watching them go, Robin mixing pleas with threats as he was dragged over to the keep.
“So much for subtlety,” Lachlan said, slapping him on the shoulder. “At least he’s back. Do you think he’ll talk?”
“He’ll talk,” Jock replied, heading back into the tavern, wiping the rain from his face as he did so. “He’ll talk or he’ll die.”
“And what about the other matter?”
Jock pulled out the key. “I will be back before morning no matter what. We will deal with this once and for all.”
“And if you do not return?”
