Reyna felt her heart drop a little, but she couldn’t fault the young maid. After all, she and her paramour both served Laird Murray. They’d also likely grown up under his rule, and they certainly had more to fear from him. “’Tis fair enough. I’ll nae ask again save in an emergency.”
Kenzie offered her a smile that seemed to be equal parts sympathy and gratitude. She was about to say something else when a noise at the door made them both turn.
The door thumped open roughly, revealing the skinny, sour-faced man from the day before. “What’s taken ye so long, wench? I agreed tae let ye deliver the food, nae stay here all day chattering and ignorin’ yer duties.” His voice was a nasal grumble that made Reyna want to dump a throat tisane down his gullet – or something that would prevent him from talking at all.
Kenzie scowled right back at him. “Keep a civil tongue in yer head and mind yer manners, Luke. I was only being courteous tae the laird’s betrothed. She’ll be the lady soon enough.”
She turned back to Reyna. “I’ll be back tae collect the dishes and deliver yer noon meal later. But afore I go... I had orders tae see ye had paper tae write yer faither and inform him ye’ve arrived safe, as well as writing formal messages tae anyone else who needs tae be informed o’ the plans fer the wedding. So here ye are. Paper, pen, and ink.”
Kenzie passed her a small packet of paper, and Reyna saw the small outline of a folded note among the pristine sheets. She took the bundle and tucked it close. “Thank ye. Now, best ye go, afore there’s trouble.”
Kenzie nodded and left. Luke gave her a final, deeply suspicious glare, then left the room as well, slamming the door behind him. Reyna waited a moment to be sure he wouldn’t burst in on her again, then took the papers to the small bedside table and pulled the small, folded note free.
Her heart leaped at the sight of the handwriting, familiar even after all these years. She unfolded the missive, wondering what Blake might be trying to tell her that he couldn’t say in person.
Reyna –if ye deem I can so address ye,
I ken ye’re nae one fer liking tae be confined, and that ye’re likely tae try and find yer own way out o’ yer rooms soon enough, if there’s nae one offered tae ye. Curious as a cat ye are. Likewise, I ken yer husband-tae-be kens nae better than tae try and confine ye. So mayhap this will help keep the peace between ye both.
Tae one side o’ yer rooms, there’s a small corridor. ‘Twas boarded over some time ago, as the north tower’s nae the best used, save by guests who shouldnae have a way tae be wandering the castle at night. If ye can find it and pull the boards free by chance, then ye’ll have clear access tae the corridor. ‘Tis dusty, but big enough, so far as I ken.
I ken ye wish tae see yer braither. If ye take the corridor down, it will end at a heavily fortified locked door and branch in either direction. The left corridor doesnae lead anywhere in particular, so far as I ken. The right corridor, on the other hand, will travel downward tae the dungeons.
Under normal circumstances, I’d tell ye tae stay away from such a place but kenning what I dae o’ yer situation and yer concern fer yer braither, who is currently confined at our laird’s pleasure. I’ll say naething save that ye dae yer best taeavoid the notice o’ the guards, should ye choose tae visit yer kinsman.
Be careful lass, fer I dinnae think the laird will be too kind if he finds ye’ve defied him. And dinnae even think o’ pressing yer luck with the locked door. ‘Tis locked fer a reason, and if ‘tis found even slightly damaged, the laird is likely tae think ye’re plotting against him, and ye’ll take far more than a blow tae the face fer such behavior, and nae even the gods above will be able tae help ye, let alone me.
I mean that, Reyna. Be careful and be patient. I dinnae ken what we’ll be doing but be sure I’m working as best I can on ways tae aid ye and mayhap gain ye mote freedom o’ movement.
Yer Warrior and Ally,
Brutus
Reyna stared at the missive, reading and rereading it until she’d memorized the contents. Then she passed to the fireplace and tossed it in, watching it burn with a sense of regret.
She knew it was far too dangerous to keep such a letter, but the fact that Blake had taken the risk to write it filled her with warmth.
She didn’t think she’d imagined the tenderness in his hands when he’d carried her to the room the previous night, or thehunger in his touch during the moment they’d shared in the cave. Thinking about it made her feel strange. Warm to her core, and both slightly fearful and more than a little interested in what else he could help her feel.
It was frustrating. She was still somewhat angry with him over the way he’d abandoned her. But even so, she knew he still cared for her, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she also cared for him. The closeness of their childhood had changed, but the core of it still lingered.
Once upon a time, she had dreamed of sharing a life with him. After that first year of fruitless waiting, she’d given up on that dream and put it out of her mind. The dream was no more possible now, but seeing him made a small, almost forgotten part of her yearn for what might have been.
Reyna jerked away from the fireplace. The note was long since ash, and she had a secret corridor to find. More than that, she’d rather give her attention to hunting for secret paths than she would think about Blake – or Brutus – and the things she knew she couldn’t have.
Reyna started near the fireplace and began to circle the room, peering at the paneling that lined the walls. It was well worn, but well-set, and determining what was behind it was no easy task. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever find the location Blake had mentioned – assuming she was in the correct room – when she felt a soft brush of air across one hand. It was so faint she wasn’t sure she would have noticed it if she hadn’t been examining the walls.
She moved closer to the source of the draft and found a slightly-wider-than-normal crack in the boards. She peered at it, then went and a lit a taper from the fireplace to get a better view.
There was only darkness behind the boards, and the faintest scent of earth and dust.
Excited now, Reyna hooked her fingers into the crack and tugged. The board didn’t move. Reyna marked it with a bit of waxy soot from the taper, then took it back to the fireplace. Hands free, she tugged at the board again, but it was stuck fast.
Exasperated, she drew the small dirk she carried for self-protection and as an extra herb-trimming tool and wedged it into the line. She heaved at it, but her grip slipped, and the knife went clattering across the floor.
Reyna froze as she heard the thump of heavy boots.The guard! It’s nae Blake... and I cannae let that rodent-like man guess what I’m about if ‘tis him!
Reyna dived for the knife, scooped it up, and hurried toward the bed. She’d just enough time to settle near the edge of the bed before the door slammed open, and Luke entered.
