Braden surprised him by approaching him, his expression pensive.
“Welcome back,” Braden said.
Jamie could have responded in many ways, but chose not to take his ire out on the young man. “Thank ye.” He glanced at the stairs, wondering if Aftyn could tell him about his men, and opened his mouth to ask where she was, but Braden saved him the trouble.
“Yer men are well. I ken yer were going to ask that, aye?”
“Indeed. I want to see them.”
Braden glanced around as he took a step closer. Apparently satisfied that no one could hear him, he said, “Aftyn has taken food and drink to them.”
Jamie’s heart swelled at the thought of her care for his men. And for the risk she took to defy her father. If he found out, the laird would not be pleased. But it was pure Aftyn. He should not have been surprised that she would do such a thing. She had a caring heart. Jamie nodded his acknowledgment. “She is kind to do so.”
Then a little louder, Braden added, “My father has instructed me to show ye yer new chamber before ye venture anywhere else.”
Jamie shook his head, anger building in his chest. Not at this lad, but at his father. “The only enticement I wish at the moment is to see my men.”
“If ye would come with me,” Braden said, making it sound like an invitation. “I can tell ye more.” His voice dropped even lower on the last statement.
Jamie nodded at that. “Very well. Lead the way.” It occurred to him that Braden had staged their encounter carefully to appear to be following his father’s orders. But was he? He could be leading him into some sort of trap that would have him sharing accommodation with his men. But nay, the Keith wanted his cooperation. Tossing him in the dungeon, and using Braden to do it, made no sense. When Braden headed for the stairs to the upper floors, Jamie relaxed slightly and followed.
Braden led him to a sumptuously appointed chamber with a large hearth, a window looking toward the hills in the distance, draped in thick, rich fabrics, and with a solid shutter against the cold. A grand bed, large enough for two to sleep in comfort or engage in whatever bed sport pleased them, filled most of the side of chamber opposite the window. For a moment, Jamie pictured Aftyn there with him, but he pushed the image aside when Braden stopped.
“This is yers for the rest of yer stay,” Braden told him. “My father means to keep ye, but prefers ye make up yer mind to stay.”
“And that is why he holds my men in the Keith dungeon.”
Braden pursed his lips and looked away. “My father also believes in hedging his bets.”
“And what do ye think? Ye will be laird someday. Do ye agree with what yer da has done?”
“The clan needs ye,” Braden answered and crossed his arms, then lifted a hand. “I dinna approve of all of my father’s methods, but our need is real. Aftyn’s need, Neve’s need, is real. Ye could do much good here. Ye have already done much good. Ye dinna deserve to have yer men held against ye.”
“Thank ye for that,” Jamie told him. Braden would make a fine laird someday, if his father didn’t corrupt him before that time came. He had a good heart and a sense of right and wrong. Or perhaps his father had a greater sense of expediency. Jamie pressed his lips together. In the Keith laird’s position, what would he do? He could not think of that now.
“Are ye to deliver my answer to yer da?”
“Only if ye have one to give him.”
“I would see to my men first.”
Braden nodded. “I can take ye.”
In the dungeon passageway, Braden greeted the guard and proceeded without stopping. Jamie ignored the man and kept pace with Braden. The cell Bhaltair and Fearchar occupied was not the worst Jamie had ever seen. And a large tray covered with the remains of a hearty meal sat atop one of the pallets. But still, it rankled to see his men behind bars.
“How are ye?”
Fearchar grinned. “We’ve been worse. We’ve been better. Have ye come to get us out of here?”
Jamie glanced at Braden, who shrugged and stepped back.
“It seems ye will enjoy the Keith’s lesser accommodation for a while longer,” Jamie told them. “But I will get ye out as soon as I can.”
“We dinna doubt that,” Bhaltair said.
“What do ye need in the meantime?”
“More blankets wouldna go amiss,” Fearchar told him. “And candles and a means to light them.”
