She opened her eyes, reinvigorated. Discovering what happened to Margaret—and if she even had been taken here—wouldinvolve talking to the guards. She couldn’t talk to Creighton about it yet, not without making him suspicious.
But the ordinary folks, such as guards and maids, might want to talk. They were more likely to remember an individual prisoner, especially a pretty woman like Margaret. And Margaret would not have gone quietly. They would remember her, for sure.
Either way, she had to find out. Glancing around the crossroads once more, she spotted a hallway that led to a plain stone wall, with a door set deep into it. That must surely be one of the towers, the many towers towering above the Keep. A pair of guards stood there, leaning on their pikes and suppressing yawns.
I have to start somewhere,Nora reminded herself, and strode toward them.
They watched her approach warily. Hands tightened on pikes.
“Forgive me,” she called, offering what she hoped was a shy smile. “But I think I am lost. I am Nora Lane, and I?—”
“I daenae care who ye are,” one of the soldiers interrupted. “This is the entrance to the south-west tower, and nobody is admitted. Only the Laird enters if he wants a book or a map. He carries the key and locks the door behind him. Do ye nae ken this?”
“Aye, but I’m new in the Keep, and…”
“It’s nay excuse,” the other guard said at once, sniffing disdainfully.
This was not the friendly start Nora had hoped for. She smiled wanly, clearing her throat.
“I’m sorry. I think I might be lost, actually. I?—”
“Ye cannae be here,” the first man interrupted.Again. “What do ye want, lass?”
She bit her lower lip hard enough to taste copper. “Ye are nae particularly friendly. Maybe I’ll wait for ye to be relieved, and talk to yer replacements. What time will the new guards arrive?”
That was a mistake. She realized it as soon as the words left her mouth. How foolish had she been to ask so boldly about the inner workings of the keep so early? She had barely arrived and certainly hadn’t had the chance to understand what kind of place this was. The guard’s eyes widened and hardened. Before Nora could step back or take back anything she had said, he lunged forward.
Clammy fingers wrapped around her wrist, hauling her toward him.
“Careful, lassie,” he hissed. “If ye are here to spy?—”
“Spy? Nay, of course nae,” she yelped, trying and failing to pull herself free.
“Oh, nay?” he pressed, tightening his grip. “Wanderin’ alone, without an escort…”
“Nae proper for a young woman,” the other guard agreed.
“...and askin’ about replacement guards and changin’ times? Clumsy is what it is. I reckon we should summon our chief and see whathehas to say.”
“Let go of me arm,” Nora insisted, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Let go of me armnow. Ye are hurtin’ me.”
“Hurtin’ ye? Lass, I have barely…”
“Well, now, lads, what’s all this?”
The two guards froze, eyes widening with almost comical horror at the familiar male voice. The painfully squeezing grip on her wrist loosened, just a little.
Nora gulped, not daring to turn around. The guards could see the man standing behind her, of course. She fancied that she could almost see his reflection in their eyes.
It washim. Of course, it washim.
“Me Laird,” squeaked the man with his hand around Nora’s arm. “I… I did nae see ye there.”
“Nay, ye did nae,” Creighton agreed. There was a tight sort of coldness in his voice, with none of the lazy amusement she’d heard when they first met. “Tell me, lads, is it really wise to be touchin’ yer laird’s betrothed in such a way?”
The color vanished from the soldier’s face, pure fear trickling into his eyes.
“Nay, me Laird, we didnae?—”
