Shadow Music (Highlands' Lairds 3) - Page 31

He jerked his hand away when Kenny yelled at him. “Is she breathing or not?”

“She is, but she’s still sleepin’.” He shook her. “She won’t open her eyes.”

“Then get down here. I hear him comin’.”

Leod muttered a curse as he climbed down.

“Leave the ladder where it is. He’ll want to see her.”

The door opened again, and the person they were waiting for entered. She didn’t need to see his face to know who he was. As soon as he opened his mouth, she knew: Baron Coswold.

Gabrielle went from stunned disbelief to rage in less than a heartbeat. Why was Coswold here? What did he want from her now? But there was no time to try and understand his motives. Instead, she needed to find a way to escape.

“You’re certain she sleeps?” Coswold demanded, and before Leod or Kenny could answer, he said, “How long have you been here? Were you talking? Did you say anything she might have heard?”

“We just came inside, didn’t we, Kenny?” Leod said. “We didn’t have time to talk. I walked in, got the ladder, and climbed to see if she was breathin’ and if her eyes were open.”

“She’s alive,” Kenny said.

“But she ain’t awake.”

“Bring her down here,” Coswold ordered.

“But she ain’t awake yet,” Kenny reminded.

Gabrielle heard a scuffle, then “I’m gettin’ her. I’m gettin’ her for you.”

The man climbed into the loft again and lifted Gabrielle off the bed. He carried her to the edge and dropped her limp body into waiting arms.

“Pull the chair out and put her there. Leod, get rope and tie her.”

Gabrielle continued to feign sleep while she was pushed and prodded. Her head hung down, and her hair covered her face. She knew Coswold stood over her. She felt his beady eyes on her, heard his panting, and breathed in his sickeningly sweet perfumed oils.

Leod wrapped a rope around her waist and pulled the ends tight behind the chair. Then he wound another rope around her wrists and tied it in a double knot.

“She’s good and tied,” he said. He sounded proud of his handiwork. “She can’t get loose.”

She felt the knots between her fingers and thought it might be a trick. Surely he knew that she would be able to undo the knots. Was he trying to prove she was awake? Or was he that stupid? She had her answer when he walked away.

“Get me a cup of water,” Coswold commanded.

When he had the water in his hand, he said, “Get out. Both of you.”

Kenny snickered. “He’s wanting to be alone with her.”

“What’s he going to do with her tied to the chair?”

“Get out and stay out until I call you!” Coswold shouted.

As soon as the door closed behind the men, Coswold grabbed Gabrielle’s hair and jerked her head back. He threw the water in her face.

She moaned and slowly opened her eyes. His horrible face was in front of hers.

“Wake up, Gabrielle. Wake up.”

He deliberately hurt her, using the heel of his hand against her forehead to shove her head against the back of the chair. Then in contradiction he knelt down in front of her and very gently brushed her hair away from her face, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

His touch repulsed her.

He dragged a chair over and sat down facing her. Bracing his hands on his knees, he studied her curiously.

“I mean you no harm, Gabrielle.”

She didn’t respond. She saw the maniacal look in his eyes.

“I want to ask you a question. That’s all,” he said pleasantly. “When you have given me a satisfactory answer, you may go home. Just one question and one answer. You will cooperate, won’t you?”

She didn’t answer. He tilted his head and studied her, waiting. Then suddenly he lashed out and slapped her with the back of his hand.

“Are you ready to hear my question?”

She refused to answer. He struck her again. “Where is the gold?”

Before she had time to react, he said, “I want the treasure of St. Biel. Where is it?”

She braced herself for another attack and said, “There is no treasure.”

He didn’t hit her. “Yes, there is. I went to St. Biel and became a believer. The king did not send all the gold to the pope. He hid it.”

“If that is true, he took the secret to his grave.”

Coswold wagged his finger at her. “No, no. The secret has been passed down. Your mother knew, didn’t she? And she told you.”

“No, she couldn’t tell me, because there is no treasure.”

“The priest confirmed it. That’s right. The envoy reported that when the priest brought it up, you said you wouldn’t give it to the MacHughs. So you do know where it is.”

“No, he did not mean gold.”

He struck her again, cutting the corner of her lip. “I don’t think you fully grasp my situation, Gabrielle. The treasure will free me from the king. I have been his pawn for the last time. Even if I could get away from him, I would have no allies. The barons see me as the royal lackey now. If the barons rebel, they will take me down with the king. So you see, I have nothing to lose.”

She thought he wanted her to feel sorry for him. He was demented.

“I thought it would be so easy. I would ask for your hand and I would have you. I had heard the tales about hidden treasure, but I didn’t believe them until the king sent me to St. Biel to make certain his steward wasn’t cheating him. I looked at that magnificent palace and saw for myself several gold coins. I was told they were kept as reminders, but that the rest was sent to the pope.”

Grinning, he tapped his head with his fingers. “But no one could say how much was there to begin with. The more people I asked, the more I was convinced that the king saved most of it for himself. And then I met an old man who had seen it…the gold…stacks and stacks of it. And it just disappeared. Where did it go, Gabrielle?”

“Greed has made you unreasonable. I speak the truth. There is no gold,” she said.

He sighed dramatically. “Yes, there is. After all I’ve done…yes, there is.”

“I cannot tell you, for I do not know where it is.”

“Then you admit that it exists.” He acted as though he had just tricked her into a confession.

She shook her head. “No.”

He sat back, crossed one leg over the other and began to lazily swing his foot back and forth.

A long minute passed in silence. Then her fear turned to terror.

“Do you love your father?” he asked.

She gave a sharp cry. “Where is he? What have you done?”

“What have I done? Nothing yet. Your father doesn’t travel with many men to protect him from ambush. He made it easy for me. I have watched him make his way toward the MacHugh holding. I knew exactly where to attack. Don’t worry. He’s still alive, though his condition is deteriorating. Tell me where the gold is and I will let him live.”

When she didn’t immediately answer him, Coswold said, “Do you think I might be lying? How did I know Baron Geoffrey was on his way here? It will be easy enough to get proof. I will send some of my men to him. If they cut off his hand and bring it to you, you will see for yourself the ring with his seal still on his finger.”

“No!” she screamed. “You would not dare kill a baron.”

“I wouldn’t? Why wouldn’t I? I’ve already killed a laird.”

“Monroe? You killed Laird Monroe?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t let him have you. I needed to be able to talk to you about the gold. MacKenna didn’t care what I did with you as long as he got Finney’s Flat. Of course, he knew nothing about the treasure. I doubt he would have been so agreeable then. He proved useless to me alive, but now that he is dead, he has been helpful, for we sit inside a crofter’s cottage tucked away on his land. His clan is in such disarray, they have no idea we’re here.”

“My husband will come

for me.”

“He will have to find you first, and I made certain my men went in every direction to cover their tracks. Are you willing to lose your father and your husband?”

“No.”

“Then tell me where the gold is and be quick about it. We cannot sit here for days on end. Your husband would indeed find us then, and I would have to kill him.”

“I will tell you.”

His gasp sounded like a snarl. “Yes, yes, tell me.”

“It’s in Wellingshire,” she lied. “And well-hidden.”

He laughed. “Gold at Wellingshire and your father—”

“Mother could not tell him. I am the only one who knows. It belongs to the royal family of St. Biel.”

“You will have to tell me exactly where it is, for Wellingshire is nearly the size of a small country. Is it hidden in the castle?”

“No, it’s buried.”

“Where?” he demanded. A wild expression contorted his face, so great was his obsession.

“I must show you. It’s the only way. As you said, the estate is vast.”

“Then we will go to Wellingshire.”

“If my husband finds out, he will follow us, and I will not let you kill him. You must send him in the opposite direction.”

“How will I send word?”

“My husband can read and write.”

“But how—”

“I could write a message telling him that I escaped and now am safe with my father. I would ask him to come for me.”

“The MacKennas,” he said, nodding. “You will tell your husband they are the ones who took you.”

By the time Coswold finished telling her what to say, he believed the idea for the message was his. He called to Leod to find something to write with, and it took an hour before the man returned with ink and a piece of parchment.

Gabrielle wrote exactly what had been decided, but before she signed her name, she looked up at Coswold. “I do not want the messenger killed before he has a chance to give my husband the message. Is there a boy you could send? Not so young that he couldn’t ride and not so old he would be thought a man. My husband would not kill a boy.”

“Yes,” Coswold said. “I will get a boy to take the parchment. Now, finish. It is growing dark, but at the first morning light we will be gone.”

While Coswold paced about the cottage, Gabrielle added her final words to the message: “Please come quickly and I will forever do as you say.”

BY THE TIME Liam got to the Sinclair holding, Colm was on his way home, having taken another route. Liam turned around and headed back, this time on the northern road. He caught up with Colm as he was about to cross Finney’s Flat.

Colm saw him coming. A sense of dread gripped him.

“Gabrielle,” Liam shouted, “she is gone! She’s been taken.”

“Who? Who took her?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe by the time you reach Braeden he will know something.”

Colm’s rage could not be contained. It blurred his thoughts. “If any harm comes to her…”

“Do not think it,” Liam ordered.

But that was all Colm could think about on the frantic ride home. He could not lose her.

Night had fallen as he rode up the trail to his holding. He prayed that she had been found and was waiting to greet him. He would tell her then—shout it to the sky—that he loved her. She should have heard the words before. It could not be too late.

At the ridge one of his sentries shouted to him. “There…coming across the flat. One rider.”

Colm and Liam turned to see a shadow approaching. In the full moon, they could make out the figure of a man on horseback. They rode to meet him, reaching him before he had time to dismount.

“I bring a message for the laird,” the man said, his voice trembling. He put his hand in his shirt and pulled out the scrolled parchment.

“Who are you?” Liam asked.

“My name is Andrew.”

“Who asked you to bring this to the laird?”

“He was a MacKenna. I am from the Dunbar clan. I was on my way home from hunting when the man stopped and asked me to bring this to you. He said it was most urgent. I do not know what it says, for I cannot read.”

Colm grabbed the message from him and read. He handed it to Liam and pointed to the last words. “As you say” was underlined.

He ripped the man from the saddle and held him by the neck. His voice was deadly when he said, “What my wife tells me is that everything I have just read is a lie. And that means you are lying, too.”

“I am just the messen—”

Colm cut off his air, squeezing his neck. He didn’t let up until Andrew’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets. In only minutes, Andrew had told him everything he wanted to know.

Colm gave Liam the order. “Tie him to his horse and bring him. If he lies again, he will pray for death.”

ANDREW LED THEM to the cottage.

Colm knew Gabrielle was inside. He had to be cautious. The light from a single candle glowed through the window and he could smell smoke from the chimney. Coswold’s soldiers were bedded down for the night around a campfire south of the cottage, where the grass was soft. Their fire burned low.

Braeden made his way through the dark to count the number and then returned to Colm. Slowly the MacHugh soldiers circled until the men and the cottage were surrounded. When they were in position, they moved forward. Colm crept up behind the guard in front of the door and killed him before he could make a sound. He lowered the man to the ground, then tested the door. It was bolted against him. He raised his hand to give the signal, and then he kicked the door open and charged inside.

Coswold had been sleeping in a chair and bolted to his feet at the sound of the door crashing in. He fumbled at his belt for his dagger, but it was too late. He knew he was going to die.

Leod had been sitting on the edge of the loft with his legs dangling down as Gabrielle sat on the straw mattress behind him.

“Kill her!” Coswold shouted.

The words weren’t out of his mouth before Gabrielle, using every ounce of strength she had, thrust her whole body at Leod’s back and sent him flying headfirst to the floor. He landed on his face, his neck broken.

Colm made the kill quickly. He cut Coswold’s throat and tossed the bloody blade to the floor.

He shouted for his wife and ran to the ladder to reach for her. She fell against him sobbing.

“I knew you would come.”

He held her tight and tried to calm his heart. “I would not lose you, Gabrielle.”

She pulled back. “Colm, my father,” she cried. “Coswold’s army will kill him. They have…”

Colm stopped her. “Your father is with the Buchanans this night.”

“You are certain?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes, Brodick was informed at the summit that your father had arrived. He was too weary to come any farther. You will see him tomorrow.”

He lifted her into his arms.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “Take me home.”

GABRIELLE’S FATHER DIDN’T TAKE TO COLM RIGHT AWAY. Nor did Colm particularly like the baron. They were polite, but wary of each other.

Her father softened his attitude when he saw how Colm treated Gabrielle. It was clear to him that the laird loved her and would cherish her. Colm softened his attitude toward the baron when he saw how much he loved his daughter and how she loved him.

Willa made a special dinner of roasted pheasant and so many other dishes that Gabrielle lost count. Each time Willa carried a platter to the table, she smiled at Gabrielle.

Liam strolled in and was introduced to the baron. He said, “Did Gabrielle tell you how she saved my life?”

“I must hear this story,” the baron said.

“Milady, if I could borrow you for a moment?” Maurna interrupted.

Gabrielle excused herself and followed Maurna up the stairs.

“I let Mary

go home early tonight,” Maurna said. “She’s a good help with these two boys, and I thank you for adding her to your household. I thought the twins were down for the night. I came up to look in on them and caught them coming out of the laird’s chamber.”

Standing at the top of the stairs, Ethan and Tom waited with their heads down.

“I’m sorry, milady,” Ethan said.

“Me, too,” Tom said.

“Tell your mistress what you did,” Maurna said. She was trying to be stern, but Gabrielle heard the tenderness in her voice. She knew the boys could, too.

“We just wanted to look in the trunk,” Tom said without lifting his eyes.

“My trunk?” Gabrielle asked. “Why would you want to look in there?”

Ethan lifted his shoulders. “I don’t know, but we did.”

Tom nodded. “I found a statue in there.”

“I found one, too,” Ethan admitted.

“But I didn’t break mine. You broke yours.”

“Boys, the statues don’t belong to either of you,” Maurna said.

Tom took Gabrielle’s hand. “Ethan’s sorry.”

“I’ll leave them to you, Lady Gabrielle, while I go to your room and see to the damage.”

“I’ll take care of it, Maurna. You may go downstairs.”

Gabrielle took the twins into their room and tucked them into bed. She talked to them about respecting privacy and made them promise not to go into their laird’s room again without permission. Then she kissed them good night and closed the door.

On the way down the corridor, she thought to ask Colm to permanently remove the lid from the trunk. If the boys were to climb in it and the heavy lid were to close, they could be seriously hurt.

A fire warmed the chamber. The trunk lid was propped open against the wall, and one statue of St. Biel lay half in and half out, hanging dangerously on the edge. The other was on the floor and missing a head.

She picked up both pieces and moved close to the fire to see if the stone could be repaired. Holding the body at an angle, she noticed something that caught the light. She tipped the statue and examined it more closely. She froze. Gold. The core of the stone piece had been hollowed out and filled with gold. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She looked again. The gold was there.


Tags: Julie Garwood Highlands' Lairds Romance
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