A guard snapped to attention at the far end of the hall, clearly hovering there in the hopes of finding out what had happened. Lachlan jerked his head towards the courtyard, motions short and sharp.
“Gather the men,” he ordered him. “Send half a dozen to patrol the borders and another half-dozen to watch over the walls. I don’t want a single inch of this place without eyes on it at all times, do you understand?”
“Aye, my Laird,” Nathan acknowledged, and he stood there for a moment till Lachlan glowered at him.
“What are ye waiting for?” he demanded. “Go! Now!”
The man took off, perhaps glad to be free of Lachlan’s fury. Innes could not take her eyes off her husband. The tight jaw, the clenched fists, the shoulders drawn high—it was clear he was shaken by what had happened.
Could it have something to do with the woman she had seen in the village before? It seemed impossible, seemed nothing more than her paranoia getting the better of her, but that woman had seemed almost familiar to her. Almost as though it had been Isobel, keeping watch on her, tracking her presence to make sure that she could not get too far without her knowing about it.
For a moment, she considered telling Lachlan about what she had seen. Perhaps it would help bring some clarity to all of this if he knew that she was a part of it. But if she were to point fingers, it would bring Arthur’s world crashing down around him, and she did not know if she was capable of such a thing.
Would he ever forgive her if she tried to make it so that his wife was part of this and it turned out not to be true? Or would he ever recover if he knew that the woman he had fought so hard to marry had been meeting in secret with the very man she was meant to have turned down?
Her mind seemed to twist in a hundred different directions at once, none of them offering her any more sense than the last. Eventually, after Lachlan had laid out his commands for all of his men, he retreated to his study, where he poured himself a large whiskey and knocked back a few gulps.
“Lachlan,” she called, moving to the edge of his seat and planting her hand on his arm. “It’s going to be alright. They didnae find me, I’m safe.”
“Aye, only by the grace of God,” he growled, his voice pulled taut like catgut across a fiddle. “You could have been taken. If they had ambushed us when you were with us…”
He drank from the whiskey again, the mere thought of it was enough to make him ill.
“I’ll take the fight to the Anderson Keep myself. I’ll find the one behind this,” he declared, shaking his head. “I’ll burn the Highlands to the ground if that’s what it takes. They cannae get away wi’ this for a moment longer.”
“Lachlan, please!”
He fell silent, looking at her for a moment, but she could see nothing of the sweet, gentle man who had held her on the hill. No, the man in his place was fearful, ready to rain down hellfire on those who stood against him, or, at least, those who he thought might dare to do such a thing.
“You dinnae ken if my brother had anything to do with this,” she pointed out. “It might be… it could be a misunderstanding. I’m a Lady now, after all. Perhaps those bandits thought they might get a fine ransom if they took me.”
“You cannae believe that, Innes,” he returned darkly. “How many times must you almost be taken from me before I act?”
His voice rose as he spoke, and she drew back, unsure of how to deal with him in this state. She knew he had a point, of course, given how close she had come to being taken, but that didn’t mean that she wanted to admit it. Her brother would not be prepared to stand against any army that Lachlan brought against him, and if he marched on the Anderson Keep, she could not ensure his safety.
“I must gather my men,” Lachlan muttered in the silence that followed, finishing the last of his whiskey. “Dinnae set foot outside the Keep without me. You understand?”
She planted her hands on her hips, staring back at him.
“Ye still hate him. Ye still hate my brother! How can you possibly be so blinded by yer own emotions, Lachlan? Ye told me Isobel means nothing tae ye now!”
“It’s not about her! It’s about you. Your safety is my duty!”
“I thought love was enough to melt the hatred away,” she retorted. “Or is it not as important to you as control?”
“Innes,” he growled. “You dinnae understand. This is a matter of honor, of duty!”
“No! It’s a matter of forgiveness,” she told him, hands on her hips. “It doesnae need to be blood and honor and duty. Some things are better left in the past!”
“Do you think that I’d let them get away wi’ this?” he snapped, rounding on her, eyes blazing. “That I would stand by and let them threaten my face in such a fashion? No, they must pay fer this. I willnae let it stand. I cannae.”
“If ye stopped for one second and let me help ye see things clearer…”
If only there was some way she could convince him to see past what lay on the surface, to the truth of this; that it would go back and forth forever if they did not lay it to rest now.
“Lachlan…”
“Innes, I’ve made mysel’ clear,” he growled through gritted teeth. “To yer chambers. Now!”
