Neither Tobias nor Bryce found a weapon in the dung heap behind the stables or anywhere close to it. Tobias was off to make a few inquiries in the village with his soldiers. It would be better that way than for Bryce, a stranger, to approach them with questions. But he had no idea as to why someone was doing this.
Feeling a hollowness in his chest at the curious nature of two strange murders in a relatively peaceful clan out in the Highland countryside, Bryce stared at the two forms for a little before he left and shut the heavy wooden door behind him. He pulled it firmly closed, wishing that it could keep further tragedy away from the rest of the clan.
Why on earth would anyone want to kill such prominent members of a village? It made sense, perhaps, to kill a Laird, but to kill a skilled healer while others were miles away, seemed akin to killing oneself. He felt a little heavy in heart as he trudged up the steps. Then he remembered that he was meant to go and train with Athol and his men that morning.
However, Tobias had come to draw him away to the scene of the body, and he also had spending extra time in Lorna’s room that morning to blame. A smile came to his lips as he thought about it. Lorna had looked so pleasantly disheveled, so warm and soft and so wonderfully herself, that his longing for her had only increased at the sight.
It was amazing to him that he’d been able to keep his hands to himself, or rather his mouth to himself, while they were talking. He wanted so badly to comfort her about her future, and he had revealed his own feelings about the past with her, something he hadn’t told anyone else. Breathing out, he wandered to the training grounds, so that he could explain to Athol when he heard feminine laughter.
Frowning, he opened the door that led out to the grounds, then stopped and stared at what he saw. Lorna was ducking to avoid a blow from a sword, and then she was swinging again at her brother. All in a gown.
His mouth open, Bryce didn’t move. He merely leaned against the doorjamb and watched in awe as Lorna moved. She was impeded by her skirts, but only slightly. Athol was a skilled warrior, and he wasn’t putting his usual force into his blows, but he was not holding too much back, either. As he moved around, he spoke to Lorna telling her when to move and when to hit, but to Bryce, it seemed she knew much of it already.
From his vantage point, he could see her skin glistening with sweat, and her blonde hair was coming loose from its pins. The look of her heaving chest where he could see mounded breasts pushing against the stays, was enough to make him swallow hard. His body responded to her in so many ways. She was a skilled swordswoman, and he imagined she looked just the same after a sword fight as she would after a feverish bout of lovemaking.
Overwhelmed with desire for a woman who might not feel the same way, Bryce took his leave, glad that no one saw him watching. He shut the door and left for the library. It was the quietest place in the keep, and he knew that Lorna would not be arriving there soon. He began to pace, trying to put images of a naked, flushed Lorna out of his mind so that he could focus solely on the deaths.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and moved back and forth across the room until things cooled, and he could feel that what had grown hard, had grown soft. “Thank God. I couldnae go tae dinner like that,” he said with a chuckle.
He stopped when he spotted something in the far corner, hidden by one of the shelves. Glad for a distraction, he walked over to it and pulled it out from its place. It was a painting. “A painting of the family,” he said aloud and looked at the people in it. It was Fergus’s family, but it was clearly painted a long time ago. Athol was only a child, and there was another child there too, a young girl, but Bryce was certain it wasn’t Lorna. Lorna was much younger than Athol, and she wouldn’t have been alive at the age Athol was in the painting.
“I wonder…” he stopped when he heard booted footsteps entering the library.
“Och, there ye are,” Athol said with a laugh, but his smile faltered when he looked from Bryce to the painting in his hands. “Kyla said ye were there watching us fight. What is that in yer hands?”
Athol moved to get a better view of the painting. “Och, I found this, hidden away,” Bryce said.
“Aye, it was the family,” Athol nodded and was still breathing hard.
“Who is that?” Bryce pointed at the unfamiliar girl. “It couldnae have been Lorna.”
“Nae. It was Siusan, me sister.”
“I see. I never kenned about her. What happened?” Bryce put the painting down against the wall next to the hearth and brushed the dust from his hands.
Athol looked sad. “Aye, it was a sad thing. She died of a fever many years ago.”
“Och, aye,” Bryce frowned, suddenly remembering. “I think I had heard of that, but I cannae quite remember.”
Athol shrugged. “Now, I heard there is a new body found. That is why ye couldnae come with me and the men.” Bryce noticed the quick change of subject, but he didn’t want to press any further.
“Aye, true enough. Sorry about that. I will need tae start thinking about who might have done such a thing. Tobias needs me help.”
“Well then, what are ye doing in here, poking yer nose intae places that are nae yer own?” Athol turned and left, suddenly angry, and Bryce frowned after him.
Damn. I have angered another person I cannae afford tae make angry.
