“As do I, Cameron,” the king said. “Were I you, I would command your captain to give Leith a wide berth until this is settled.”
“I will certainly do that, my liege.”
“Good. Now, I think I’ll rest a bit before this evening’s festivities.”
Tavish’s head was spinning so that it took all his control to speak calmly, move with steady purpose, as he accompanied the king’s leisurely progress down the stairs and to the west tower, while the king admired Roscraig’s thick masonry work. By the time they reached the quarters reserved for the monarch, Tavish was ready to jump out of his own skin. Two of the king’s soldiers already stood guard, and they straightened to attention at James’s approach.
“Roscraig is at your disposal if you should be in want of anything, my liege,” Tavish said at last, feeling the relief of his imminent escape.
“My thanks, Cameron.” He seized the handle but then paused. “One more thing—perhaps I should not mention it to you now, but I do not think Hargrave is yet aware, and my instincts tell me that you should be first to have this knowledge. It shall likely mean little to you any matter, never having known him. Thomas Annesley was never hanged in London. He somehow managed to escape before the trial, and the only signs found of him indicate that he chose to take his own life rather than be executed.” James opened the door. “Until tonight, then.”
Tavish bowed woodenly. “My liege.”
He turned and walked down the steps, pausing at Audrey’s closed door. He leaned his forehead against the wood and knocked softly before engaging the handle and pushing the door open, praying that he would open his eyes and see her sitting on the little stool, reading one of her books of poetry. The door creaked, and Tavish looked inside.
Nothing had changed since that morning; her slippers still languished near the bedside, the curtains hung haphazardly where he’d thrown them open, the stool still surrendered to the rug.
“Audrey, where are you?” he whispered. Then he scrubbed his hands over his face with a sigh and quit the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Tavish went immediately to the switchback stone steps leading from the courtyard to the beach to find Alec. One look at the man’s face told Tavish all he needed to know.
He asked anyway. “What have you found?”
Alec rested his hands on his hips, his chausses and tunic damp with sweat and seawater and sparkling with sand. “Nothing, laird. Nary a footprint, nor a single sign that Miss Keane has ever been here.”
“What about the cliff?” Tavish asked.
“The dinghy’s been around once,” Alec answered. “One of the men fished a boot out of the rocks with a pole, but it belonged to Frang Roy. Another pair have gone back, searching the lower rocks now that the tide is going out.” He paused, and the air around the men grew heavy. “I pray they find nothing.”
“As do I,” Tavish said, looking out over the dark gray water. He sighed. “I’ll be at the cliff if I’m needed.”
“Aye, laird,” Alec said. “But there is likely little for you to do there; that monk already had the hole half dug by the time I’d left him.”
Tavish left the beach, and when he came into the courtyard at the top of the stone steps, Mam was waiting for him outside the kitchen. She met him in the center of the courtyard, away from the other buildings and prying eyes. She was once again wearing the old crossed-bodice apron, and had Tavish not known she was his mother, he would have mistaken her for one of Roscraig’s servants.
“Lady Glenna told me,” she said in a low voice, her eyes shifting about the courtyard. “Terrible about that man, dreadful as he was. Have you nae found Miss Keane?”
Tavish shook his head. “Nay, Mam. But why are you about the kitchens with the maids? You should be preparing to meet the king.”
Harriet had begun shaking her head before Tavish could finish speaking. “Nay, Tav. Nay. I’m of no sort to be meeting a king—that’s for your position. And I hear that Lord Hargrave has returned. I canna bring myself to be in the same room with that man.” Her eyes were doleful when she looked up at him, and once again, his mother looked old to him, frail, the overcast gloom setting the lines around her eyes and mouth. “I’m frightened of him, I am.”
“I’ll not let Vaughn Hargrave harm you, Mother,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders and bending down slightly to look in her eyes. “Never.”
“You don’t know, Tav,” she said in a low voice. “Tommy was no coward, and yet he ran.He ran,” she insisted, and her voice hitched. “I doona think he ever stopped running.”
“Listen to me, Mam, and listen well,” Tavish said. “I am no lad of ten and eight. And I will not let Hargrave threaten anything you and I—you and I—have worked for all our lives. I don’t know anything about Thomas Annesley, but I know us. Vaughn Hargrave didna grow up in the alleys behind Market Street or the wharf of Leith. He doesn’t ken who he’s made enemies of here. And if he should lay hand to anyone in my care, I will kill him. Do you hear me? I will kill him. Whatever grievance he has with the man who sired me matters not. This is my house now, and I will defend it.”
Mam’s chin flinched, and then she clutched Tavish to her stout frame. “Just be careful, Tav,” she whispered. “You’re all I have.”
Tavish gave her a quick squeeze and then set her from him. “I’m going to talk to Dubhán.”
“But the meal, Tav…”
He was already walking away. “I’ll be back in time. I want you to dress for the feast, Mam. You need to be there.”
“Tav, nay. I—”
“I need you to stay with Glenna,” he said pointedly.
