Before Anna was able to say anything else, the sound of footsteps reached her ear. They were heavy, and if she had to guess, it was the cook. The two of them had been too loud.
"Oh dear," she breathed, glancing around. "Hide, Hugh."
Without waiting for an answer, she tucked herself away in the pantry. She was careful to hold herself as still as possible. Still, she nearly knocked over a sack of flour, saving it with only a moment to spare. From the other side of the door, she couldn't hear any movement.
Hugh, what are you doing? Get out of here!
From her hiding place, she heard the moment that the door opened. There was a sharp intake of air, then the cook demanded, "And what are you doing in here?"
"Ach, it seems that me dinner was forgotten," Hugh replied gruffly. "I thought I'd take care of it meself so I didnae have to bother ye. Daenae worry, I returned everythin' to its proper place."
There was a long, tense pause. Anna knew the cook was collecting himself, reminding himself to mind his temper. She imagined his face flushing, his jaw working as he chewed the inside of his cheek the way he did whenever his staff did something he deemed particularly stupid.
"It seems you have eaten an entire loaf of bread," the cook said slowly. "And you've had more than a fair serving of milk."
"Aye, I suppose I did," Hugh said, sounding unbothered by the accusation underlying the cook's tone. "Me trip was quite long."
"If you were hungry, you should have pulled the bell," the cook said. "I could have sent up a plate."
"Ach, perhaps ye have a point," Hugh replied. "But now that I have ye, would ye mind gettin' me a wee glass of wine?"
Anna clapped her hand over her mouth, a giggle working its way out of her mouth. Thankfully, the chef's sputtering covered the sound. And, much to her surprise, the cook obliged Hugh's request.
Perhaps I don't have to be so skeptical about what's to come.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Laird McDonald is nowhere to be found."
Instead of the anger that he was sure his servant expected from him, there was a sense of accomplishment. This was an opportunity to seize power. In Hugh's absence, he could prove himself and show the council who the rightful Laird should be.
"What will ye do, sir?" the servant asked under his breath, leaning close to ensure they couldn't be overheard. "The men need someone to step in and lead. Do ye think the council will hide this?" He paused, sweeping his gaze around the surrounding area. "I heard they were plannin' to quietly tell those who need to know that the Laird is bein' treated by the castle's healers."
"Nay," he replied, smiling wickedly. "They daenae need to ken the status of their missin' Laird. We will tell them that I have been placed in charge."
"But—"
He silenced him, holding up a hand. The gesture was sharp, nearly enough to make his servant cower. This kind of power, the ability to have men do exactly as he bade without needing to speak a single word, was more intoxicating than the finest scotch.
Ach, I could get used to this. This is me rightful place.
"I will gather the men, inform them of the change," he said with the authority of someone born for this role. "We daenae let this news reach the village. They daenae need to ken yet. If we cannae find the Laird within the month, we will move forward with his formal removal. At that time, we can proceed with pickin' the next leader." He paused, letting that statement linger. "But I believe ye'll be pleased with what I do in the interim."
There was no need to wait for a reply. At the moment, what he said was law. This castle belonged to him, and if Hugh chose to stay hidden, doing whatever it was that he pleased, well… He'd be made the Laird officially.
His footsteps echoed down the corridor as he made his way to the yard where the men were running through their drills. Ever since he was a boy, he'd dreamed of being their commander. These people, the people of Clan McDonald, would look up to him. They'd ask for his guidance and see him as a success story.
On a whim, he pushed open the door to the Laird's study. It gave easily, left unlocked when Hugh decided to go off on hisown. Perhaps it was because he left in a rush, or perhaps it was because the empty study was meant to be found.
I'll inform everyone that it was the former if Hugh doesnae return within the agreed-upon timeframe. It will make it that much easier to revoke his lairdship, and it will make me look that much more fit to take over as Laird.
The study was neat, almost as though time had been taken to put things in order prior to Hugh's disappearance. On the desk was a stack of forms, each bearing directives. It was well thought out, indicative of a planned desertion.
I could use these… Write them off as me own. It seems as though I'm the first to truly examine this room. Nay another soul will ken that these existed. I will ensure that they are nae found.
Glancing toward the door, he gathered the pages, not bothering to read through them yet. In the quiet of his own space, he'd look these over. While he was sure that he wouldn't agree with everything that the current Laird McDonald had written, it would be quite nice to have a plan to follow, an outline of what should be taken care of.
Hugh has nay idea that he's playin' directly into me hand. If I ever see him again, I'll have to give him me thanks. I'll prove meself in his absence.
