“I brought it fro’ home. My mother gave it to me.”
“Och, well, are ye and yer mother no’ full o’ surprises.”
“Are we?”
“Och, aye.”
“A woman should no’ go defenseless.”
“I am fortunate ye did no’ slit my throat, given I ha’ shattered our bargain.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs. She faced him and raised a hand to his cheek. “I broke that also, voluntarily. Anyway—I would ne’er harm ye.”
An incredible rush of warmth flooded Alan. “Would ye no’?” he asked almost tenderly.
“Nay. And I left the knife in my own chamber last night, by any road. Only fetched it when I got my clothing.”
That made him chuckle ruefully. Ah, well, it was something.
“Come along,” he urged. “At my back, in case we meet—” That image of a wild and vicious Evan invaded his mind again. “Promise ye will stay back.”
“I canna mak’ that promise. We stand together, Alan MacKallan, or no’ at all.”
Aye, indeed, he might well be falling in love—deep in love—with his wife.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The house lay quiet. Once again, to Alan, it seemed almost too quiet. The rain, which had slacked somewhat, made sounds like footsteps, and he whirled more than once, which made Annista seize the back of his cotte. He lit no candle, but once his eyes adjusted he could see well enough.
Archie kept watch at the front door, and he was awake. He assured Alan all was quiet and the master had not yet returned.
Where was his father now? Where, for all that, was Evan?
The kitchens lay empty and echoing, and made the hairs on the back of Alan’s neck stand up. Too many shadows. Another of the footmen guarded the rear door and looked startled to see them.
“All quiet?”
“Aye, Master Alan. There be a light on across the way, in the stables.”
So there was, dim and flickering. Somehow it lent a feeling of disquiet rather than safety.
“Come along,” he told Annista.
One of the stable boys sat just inside the door, fast asleep. When Alan nudged him, he leaped up in alarm.
“Peace, lad. All quiet here?”
“Aye, Master. Angus and Billy went to bed. I was keeping watch…” He flushed miserably.
“Ye’ve seen or heard naught?”
The lad shook his head.
Alan moved on, with Annista now clutching his arm. They went from stall to stall, checking even the empty boxes. When they reached Tempest, Annista let herself into the stall and laid her hands on the big horse’s neck.
“How is he?” he asked her.
“Still on his feet, at least.” When Tempest lifted his head in response to her touch, Annista added, “Better. Evan has no’ been here. If he had, he’d ha’ finished the beast.”
