“’Twould be simple to think Lady Grant was behind this through her daughter or one of the guardsmen she left behind, but they’re all confined.”
Mary frowned. “Could Dougal have remained nearby? He was certainly angry at being refused.”
“Dougal? Nay. I can see him shooting at me, but no’ at ye.” He thought for a moment. “I have to wonder if Domnhall ordered it. He could anticipate that without ye and without another heir, yer father would be too weak to hold Rose. If Domnhall has designs on expanding Ross territory east along the Moray firth, Rose is the first territory he would need to control.”
“Da willna let that happen.”
“Yer father is in no shape to fight the Lord of the Isles, even with Brodie to back him, which they must, as they’d be the next to fall.”
“’Tis a good thing for Rose, then, that Sutherland is also allied with us.”
“It would be, if Laird Sutherland kenned it, aye.” Cameron was glad he’d wed her, even if his clan didn’t know about it yet. He’d write a letter to his father today, informing him. And he’d protect Mary. If someone really meant to kill his bride, he’d find out who and put a stop to the threat. He was stronger than he’d been in months, and would keep getting stronger. Sparring was good training, but lacked the urgency that a true battle demanded. His wild ride today to find Mary and get her safe inside Rose’s walls had done no harm. He could train harder.
Chapter 17
Cameron knew the stable lad had cared for his horse after he’d rescued Mary, but once he’d reassured himself she was well, and left her sleeping, he went to the stable. He enjoyed brushing down his mount after a brisk ride. The back stall was out of the way and quiet, the silence broken only by the rasp of the brush over the stallion’s coat and the soft shuffling noises of the other horses in the stable.
Being here, doing this mundane but necessary task, seemed like a respite from the illness, shock over today’s events, and the general sadness permeating the Rose keep. The laird’s condition and his wife’s betrayal had everyone on edge. The searchers had not found the person who’d shot at Mary. Not knowing whether the arrow was a stray or deliberate, and not knowing who let it fly, kept his nerves on edge.
Horses were simple creatures. Treat them well, and they returned the favor. Be calm around them and theyremained calm. He used their quiet presence and his task to further calm his own anxieties.
When voices intruded into his solitude, he tensed and stilled.
“…failed…take care…soon.”
The voices were coming from outside the stable walls. He didn’t recognize the speakers, and strained to hear more.
“…too difficult.”
“…change our plan…”
Cameron edged closer to the outside wall, but could only pick out a few words. He never heard a gender mentioned, or what the two were planning, but he heard enough to put him on guard. Something hadn’t worked and they were plotting something new. Were they talking about James Rose or Mary? Were they getting desperate? If so, they might be sloppy enough to give themselves away.
He moved to the stable entrance, intending to identify and confront them. If they were responsible for the attack on Mary, he’d take them before Laird Rose immediately. But they’d moved away and blended in with the other people in the bailey. He had no answer, only an ambiguous bit of overheard conversation. With only that, he couldn’t prove a thing.
“Fire!”Two lads rushed into the great hall, disturbing the evening meal.
Panicked shouts filled the hall as everyone leapt totheir feet. Before Mary had a chance to speak, Cameron demanded, “Where?”
“The blacksmith’s shed, but the wind is blowing cinders toward the stable,” one of the lads reported.
The men ran for the door, while the women went to fetch buckets and pots—anything that would hold water.
Cameron wasted no time. “We’ve got to put out the fire before it panics the horses.”
His longer legs gave him the advantage and forced Mary to follow him outside. She gasped when she saw smoke billowing from the blacksmith’s shed. Sparks flew upwards from it, then skidded sideways as the wind caught them above the reach of the outer walls.
Cameron quickly organized the clan. “Ye lads get the horses out of the stable and move them to the other side of the keep, upwind of the fire. They’ll calm if they canna smell it so strongly.”
Three lads ran to do his bidding while Cameron got men and women lined up and passing containers of water along the line from the well. Then he ran to the head of the line. Mary stayed with him, on his heels. She handed him the next full bucket that came up the line and he tossed water on the flames.
“We risk cracking the forge,” she shouted over the roar of the flames.
“I ken it, but we must get this fire under control.” Cameron and others tossed more water, dropping each bucket for a lad to carry back to the end of the line to be refilled. When the fire was out and the blacksmith’s anvil sat steaming, Mary called for the blacksmith.
“He’s gone to visit his daughter until tomorrow,” someone shouted.
“Then who is responsible for this?” Cameron demanded.
