Closing the door softly, he asked, “What do we really know about Archie?”
An odd look crossed Fin’s face and one brow shot up quickly and he then masked his reaction. “He can be trusted, my lord, if that is what has you concerned.”
“Aye. I see that the king does, and I now believe you do. How capable is he with this deception?”
“Far better than I would be,” Fin said. “I’m told that I do not possess an ability to hide what I’m feeling.”
William could see that. Still, he had to be sure. “How long have you known him?”
Fin smiled and William had an inkling of just how well the two knew each other.
“He started here five years ago. He has remained perfectly loyal and was honored when the king asked for this special privilege.”
William did not want to pry any longer. Fin shifted slightly and clasped his hands together. William hadn’t meant to pry into anything personal, yet he still was not completely convinced of this man’s ability to be adept at deception.
“It would appear, my lord, that Archie and Lady Montrose possess an ability you and I do not. I know you to be straightforward and honest. It takes a clever sort of mind to successfully convince others of their duality.”
His words were true. William spoke from the heart and did not like deception, so he didn’t employ it. If the king and Fin were so convinced, he would have to accept that and turn his focus to the next stage in this plot.
“Thank you, Fin. That is all we shall require this evening. Tell your Archie I thank him for his service to his king and to my family as well. You both will be rewarded greatly.”
Fin placed his hand on his heart and bowed then retreated down the hallway.
William entered the chamber to find his wife seated at the table eyeing the delicious offering. She looked radiant in her linen shift and her dark hair unencumbered by a cap or pinned up. She was an ethereal creature, and he was captivated by her. That was all he had to worry about this night. The rest could wait until the morrow.
Chapter Eighteen
Days passed andthe missives flowed back and forth between Agnes and her uncle with no new intelligence any of them could glean. Finally, the king crafted the last missive to indicate John would be moved to Edinburgh dungeon for his own protection as, falsely of course, other prisoners had caught wind of him and had made threats.
The king admitting he could not vouch for the safety of a prisoner under his own roof was a bit ridiculous, but they were desperate. The only way to ferret out the nest was to allow for his escape and track him. The whole plot didn’t sit well with Agnes, and she’d voiced her concerns. Now sitting atop his horse with her husband and approaching Mugdock Castle, she could not shake the eerie sensation that they had missed something quite significant.
As they passed through the gates and the doors were closed and secured behind them, Agnes’s senses went into high alert. Something was very off. William must have sensed it too for when he dismounted, he hesitated before reaching for her.
“William, what is it?”
“I’m not certain,” he said almost to himself.
He took her hand once she was on the ground and walked slightly ahead of her toward the great hall. Inside he stopped, his body rigid for a moment, then relaxed. He reached for her hand and tucked it inside his arm in a formal manner, then led herforward. Once Agnes was alongside William, she could see fully inside the hall. A woman and man whom she’d never met sat at the long table with the dowager countess seated at the head and the boys on the other side.
“Brother,” the female said as she pushed back her chair and made her way toward them. The man beside her did the same. “They told me you’d nearly met your death and now I see you, I can believe it.”
The woman’s features were delicate, and her eyes were the same honey color as her brother. She did not wear the same kind and gentle way about her as her mother. Rather, Agnes sensed there was something under the surface she could not quite decipher. The woman cast her gaze slowly down Agnes’s body and then up again to meet her eyes. Her lips were pursed in a straight line as if mirth never rested there.
“And so you came all this way to see that I was well with your own eyes. Truly, sister, I didn’t know you cared for my wellbeing so keenly.”
Keeping her eyes on Agnes, she said, “You are my eldest brother, are you not? If something were to happen to you, who would see to mother and the boys?”
“You’ve gone maternal too now, have you?” To the man, he said, “Seems like you have mellowed my sister, Connor. How on earth did you do that?”
Agnes had a sense that there had been some tension between them. This exchange certainly supported that notion. William had gone to great measures to ensure the security of the castle and everyone in it. And considering the threat, why would his sister take the risk of putting herself and her husband into the thick of it?
“My wife has a mind of her own, my lord, as you very well know.”
From the corner of her eye, Agnes could see the man’s fist clench and unclench. Hair raised like gooseflesh on her arms.
“Very well, then. Sister, Connor, may I introduce my wife, Lady Graham, Countess of Montrose. Agnes, this is my sister Elspeth and her husband Connor Munroe.”
Never breaking her gaze, Elspeth curtseyed to Agnes and held out her hand. She touched cold fingers for a moment then let go. There was something unsettling about the woman far surpassing the stories told to her by the maids upon her first arrival at Mugdock.
