“Is there something wrong?”
He lifted his goblet, taking a long drink of wine. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. She couldn’t put her finger on it herself. “You seem preoccupied. As if something is bothering you.”
“Tired, that is all. And regretting that I cannot delay my return to the castle any longer.”
Mary held his gaze, wishing she could believe him. “Must you go already?”
He nodded. “I will return as soon as I am able. What do you have planned—other than cleaning?”
How did he…
Suddenly, she blushed, glancing down at her skirts. She’d forgotten all the dust. Her hands went to her hair. “I must look a fright.”
“You look beautiful.”
The look in his eyes made her blush deepen for a different reason. “I was cleaning out one of the rooms in the garret for the baby.” She knew she was smiling like an excited child, but she couldn’t help it. “It’s going to be perfect. There’s a nice window where I can put a chair, and a small antechamber for the nursemaid to sleep. I wish that I’d had time to make something myself, but Sir Adam said he has some tapestries I can use for the walls. I can’t wait for you to see it.”
A shadow crossed his face. “Mary, you know this is only temporary.”
The gentle reminder made her flush with embarrassment. “I know. It’s just hard not to get carried away a little when I’m so happy.” She thought he would be, too. But he didn’t look happy. He looked a little pained. “I thought you would understand.”
“Of course I do. I’m sorry. You’re right. I must be more preoccupied than I realized. I should love to see the room, when I return.”
He seemed so genuinely contrite that she smiled. “I shall put you to work. You can help me move the trunk. It’s the most wonderful thing. I think it must have belonged to Sir Adam’s father.”
He seemed to go very still beside her. “What makes you say that?”
“It is filled with the most wonderful treasures from the east. Sir Adam’s father went on crusade many years ago with King Edward.”
“And my grandfather,” he said carefully.
“That’s right, I’d forgotten. You must see the journals, then.”
The cup slid from his hand, but he steadied it before it tipped over. “Journals?” he said hoarsely.
She nodded, wondering at his strange reaction. “Aye, a whole trunk of them.”
Kenneth couldn’t believe it. Was it possible the recipe for black powder was hidden in one of those journals? Anxious to investigate, he’d hoped to return later that night. But it wasn’t until the following night that he crept up the staircase of Huntlywood tower.
With King Edward’s departure from London imminent, the preparations for war had intensified, and Percy was keeping them all busy. Moreover, knowing his time was running out, Kenneth was taking every opportunity to discover what information he could before he had to leave. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the English were planning something secretive and that Clifford was at the center of it.
Perhaps it was Striker’s warning, but Kenneth also couldn’t shake the feeling that they were watching him. The letter conveniently falling into his hands bothered him. As did Percy’s seemingly innocuous comment that he should have more care the next missive he carried did not get damaged before he arrived. There had been a small crack in the seal after he’d broken it open. It should have gone without notice, but apparently the constable thought it significant enough to report back to him via one of the other men.
Could Felton have said something to Percy? It wouldn’t surprise him.
All this added up to one incontrovertible fact: it was time to take Mary to Scotland. Only when she was safe could he extricate himself and the young earl. Her presence had become a liability. It made him vulnerable. If something went wrong, he wanted her far away from here.
The unexpected delay in Sir Adam’s journey had complicated matters, but the older knight was supposed to depart for France the day after tomorrow. As soon as he did, Kenneth would make his move.
Kenneth passed the tower chamber where Mary slept on his way to the garret. He knew it must be after midnight. He intended to surprise his wife, butafterhe searched the trunk.
There were two doors at the top of the stairs. He chose the one on the right and pushed it open as quietly as he could in case someone was sleeping inside. Fortunately, the room appeared empty. With the shutters closed, it was dark—and cold. The candle he’d brought with him didn’t shed much light, but it would be enough.
As there were only a few items in the room, he saw the trunk right away, heaving a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been removed.
It was clear Mary had been busy. The room was spotless: wooden floors swept clean, plastered walls cleaned and brushed with a fresh coat of lime. Even the low angled ceiling looked clean.
