Page 240 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Easy,” Talbot said.

They entered through the postern door and Mistress Muira hurried toward them from the kitchen. She reached them as they neared the stairs.

Her eyes widened. “Sweet God.” She crossed herself, then shouted, “Leanna!” A girl appeared in the doorway. “Bring warm water and clean rags to the laird’s chambers.” She hurried past them and up the stairs. “None of the other rooms are warm enough,” she said as they ascended. “I will have a fire prepared, but until the room is warm enough I will tend him in your private chambers, laird.”

They reached the third floor and Talbot laid him down in Rhoslyn’s bed.

Mistress Muira sat beside Seward on the bed and surveyed the bandage. “Have ye a knife, laird?”

He gave her the knife strapped to his belt and she made quick work of cutting the knot Talbot had tied in the bandage.

“Where is Lady Rhoslyn?” he demanded.

“The ladies solar.”

Talbot motioned Baxter to follow and they entered his private solar.

“Have you any idea who attacked him?” Baxter asked.

“One was found wounded, but alive. God willing, we’ll know soon enough.”

“Would Dayton attack the old baron?” Baxter said.

“If he thought it would profit him, aye. But I cannot see how it would help his cause.”

“Perhaps I should go to the gorge and have a look?” Baxter said.

Talbot shook his head. “Ross is there. He knows the land better than we. If there is anything to be found, he will find it. Add an extra watch to the guards, and send men to scout the land between here, Dunfrey Castle, and Banmore Castle. Keep scouts out until I tell you otherwise. Any news, inform me immediately—especially when the men return with the prisoner. Lady Rhoslyn will demand to be informed as well. Leave her to me.”

“Aye,” Baxter said, and left.

* * *

“Lady Brae is but fourteen,” Rhoslyn told Lord Davis. “It is no wonder her parents are loathe to let her marry just yet. Did they no’ agree that the marriage would take place one year hence?”

“Aye,” the young lord replied. “But I love her. I canna’ wait.”

Beside Rhoslyn on the bench in the ladies solar, Lady Saraid began swinging her feet distractedly. Rhoslyn sighed inwardly. She had clearly been gone too long. All of Buchan must have learned that she had returned home and now stood outside her door. The requests to facilitate marriage proposals and petitions to foster or tutor young ladies would keep her busy until the birth of her own child. She started to cover her belly with a hand, then remembered she wasn’t alone.

“Lady Rhoslyn?” Lord Davis said. “Will ye speak with Lady Brae’s father?”

Saraid swung her feet harder.

“Sweet Jesu, cease swinging your feet, child,” Rhoslyn said.

The girl immediately stilled and Lord Davis’s eyes rounded like a doe caught in a bowman’s sights.

Rhoslyn released a breath. “Lady Saraid, a lady doesna’ act bored when she has guests.” Neither does a lady lose her temper with a young girl.

“‘Tis impossible not to be bored,” Saraid replied.

Rhoslyn had to agree, but couldn’t admit that. Lady Saraid was thirteen and wanted to be anywhere but here. “A lady never lets it be known she is bored,” Rhoslyn told her.

Saraid’s brows dove downward but she remained silent.

Rhoslyn returned her attention to the young man. “Lord Davis, your future bride is still young. Would ye really tear her from her family too soon?”

He frowned. “She wants to marry me.”