Page 46 of Tempting the Highland Captive

“There is a spy among us.” Ron hated to be the one to accuse any McAlpine of wrongdoing, but he had no choice and he hoped that Lucas would understand.

“Do ye ken who it is?” Lucas asked, surveying the room as if the perpetrator would announce themselves.

“Nae, I dinnae. Do ye have any notion as tae who it might be? Who is most discontented with their lot here?”

“I dinnae ken who it might be, but I can make ye a list o’ men who have voiced their displeasure about My Lady since her faither’s death.”

Ron nodded. “I assume the elders will be on that list.”

“Aye.” Lucas nodded. “Along with others.”

“Anyone angry enough tae turn traitor?”

“I would nae have thought so, but…” Lucas shook his head, his face dark with rage at the thought. “I will find who is responsible and bring them tae ye for answers.”

Ron nodded. “I will start by questioning the kitchen staff with Maggie. She will ken them better than I. If ye would do the same for the fighting men o’ the clan?”

Lucas nodded in agreement. “And the village?”

“We should face the elders together. Once we have done that, then we can venture further.”

“Aye, I will begin immediately.”

“Nae one is above suspicion outside o’ Amelia, me, Maggie, Faither Jacob, and yerself. All others must be questioned.”

“Agreed.” Lucas left the hall to begin his inquiries.

Ron rejoined Amelia, Maggie, and Father Jacob beside the steward’s body. “Angus is preparing a coffin and grave,” he informed them, wrapping an arm around Amelia’s waist. He pulled her against his side, and she laid her head on his chest. “Lucas is beginning inquiries among the men. Maggie, if ye will assist me in questioning the kitchen maids?”

“Aye.” Maggie nodded. She looked as if she had been crying again. Straitening her kerchief, Maggie turned back toward the kitchen. “But first, I will prepare the body for burial.”

“I will assist ye,” Father Jacob offered, and Maggie nodded in acceptance.

Ron and Father Jacob lifted the steward’s body from the floor and carried him into Anna Maria’s diminutive chapel. It did not seem right to leave him in the great hall for prying eyes to take their fill. The chapel was quiet, the light of the candles reflecting off the golden crucifix. The atmosphere was solemn, reverent, appropriate for the task at hand. Their small band prepared the body with gentle care. No words were spoken. None were needed. Had it not been for the steward’s unwitting sacrifice, they all would have been lying dead together upon the floor of the great hall. When the body was ready, they left the little chapel and stood in the doorway looking back at the man who had saved their lives.

“I will sit with him,” Father Jacob offered. Turning to Ron, he held the younger man’s eye and spoke only for his ears. “Find who has done this thing, but dinnae kill them. Ye must make them tae talk. Ye will need the evidence when ye call the meeting o’ the lairds.”

Dread wrapped its fingers around his heart and squeezed. “Ye ken it would be better if I were nae there. The moment Rossell kens that I am here, it will only be worse for Amelia.”

The priest studied Ron’s face intently. “There are secrets that ye carry, my laird, that may hold danger for Her Ladyship. Does she nae have a right tae ken what those dangers might be?”

“Once she kens the truth, I will lose her forever.”

The priest laid his hand on Ron’s arm. “Come tae me for confession once all have gone tae bed. I will wait for ye. It is time that ye unburdened yer soul, my son.”

Ron’s insides fought against the notion of telling anyone the truth, but he knew that the priest would be bound by the seal of the confessional. No matter what he might tell the man, his secrets would be safe with him. Ron sighed and nodded in agreement. “I could use yer counsel.”

“Then ye shall have it.” The priest gave Ron’s arm a reassuring squeeze, reentered the chapel, and shut the door.