Vivien was only too grateful to watch her husband leaving the room. Realizing it was the perfect opportunity to find evidence – if there was any – that either incriminated him or proved his innocence was most likely to be in there, in his study.
She began to search the drawers in his desk, to find only notes and documents. It was only when she opened his liquor cabinet that she found what she was looking for.
A necklace with a dainty, beautifully crafted family crest.
The name ‘MacBride’ was etched into the pendant.
Could this really be Kieran’s sister’s necklace? How did it get there, in among Reginald’s documents?
Vivien inhaled sharply. This could mean only one thing – Reginald was, in fact, behind the attacks on Kieran’s clan.
She felt faint at the sight of the necklace, her vision darkening to black around the edges. She sat down on Reginald’s chair as she calmed down and contemplated what she should do with the necklace.
The only thing that would give her peace of mind was to return it to Kieran, no matter what the cost to her own life would be. He deserved to know the truth – to have his conviction proven to be correct.
Vivien shuddered as she imagined the fury on Kieran’s face when she gave him the necklace. Some of that anger could potentially be aimed at her, simply for the fact that she was Lord Stone’s wife.
She pocketed the necklace, all but running out of the room to her quarters.
This day was just too much for her to bear with, even if nothing else happened. She could only do what she thought was right, regardless of what could happen to her for doing so.
* * *
Kieran was both shocked and upset that his call to his neighboring and ally Lairds had gone unanswered by more than half of them. The few that had responded filtered into his council chambers. He could not help but be shocked at how few of them truly had answered his request for a meeting.
They all took their seats around the large table in the council chambers in his castle. Their expressions were varied – everything from curiosity to disinterest to irritation was on display before him.
Kieran sighed, beginning to think that this was a waste of his time. He had hoped that his need for his allies would bring all of them out to support him.
He was wrong.
“Thank ye all for coming. I had hoped tae see more o’ our lairds, but I appreciate ye all making the effort tae be here,” he said, once all the men were seated, all of them staring at him in expectation.
“I’m sure yer all aware of the new English lord who moved into the empty English castle not far from here. I dinnae have tae tell ye all how dangerous this is tae all o’ us. To the safety o’ our people.”
“They are too far away from my lands tae be o’ any real concern,” Laird Bruce said, the look of annoyance on his face becoming worse than it had been when he had entered the room.
“Ye might think so, Bruce, but ye ken just as well as I dae that nothing and no one is safe as long as they are stationed within our borders. Lord Stone has a large retinue with him; his soldiers are well-armed, well trained, an’ have no qualms when it comes to killing us. I lost seven men tae English soldiers just over a week ago.”
“I’m sorry for yer loss, Kieran, but I dinnae understand why ye called us together?” Laird Flanagan furrowed his forehead in confusion.
“If they are willing tae attack me an’ my people, there’s nothing tae stop them from doing the same tae all o’ ye. I need tae call ye tae take up arms with me, tae prevent this Englishman from destroying our clans. I have no doubt he is here just tae dae this.”
Kieran could not understand the reluctance and disinterest in his fellow lairds. They all knew what the implications were of English troops entering their land. It appeared that as long as their land was safe, the rest of the Lairds could go to Hell.
“We need tae join our forces. We need tae protect our people, no matter whose clan they belong tae,” Kieran tried one last time.
“Kieran, I’m afraid there isnae much chance o’ ye getting much help from yer neighbors. Have ye not heard of the internal power struggles between our own people?” Bruce said, raising his eyebrow. Kieran felt a fool at that moment – he had been so obsessed with the attacks – and the Sassenach – that he had forgotten that many of the clans throughout Scotland were at the breaking point of entering a full revolution.
The timing couldn’t have been any worse.
Kieran nodded in defeat, conceding that the aggression the Scottish clans were showing each other was much more than a potential issue.
“None o’ us can spare a man.” Flannagan shrugged his shoulders. “We all need tae protect our own clans. We cannae be caught in our castles with our pants around our ankles if we are attacked by either side. Englishman or Scotsman, right now it makes no difference who attacks us. We cannae afford to send ye men.”
Kieran dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on the table. He sighed deeply; he was at a complete impasse when it came to the safety of his people.
He was not even sure that his people would survive the winter with no grain. Kieran highly doubted his allies would be able or even willing to help him with food should he run out before the seasons changed again. This discussion was as good as an indication as anything else of their current mindsets.
