She remembered that Dugald had called it theKing Richard Dagger. Excitement raced through her. Did he know whatthis inscription said? Could he read it or had he memorized it fromoral tradition? She wished she could ask him now. Dejected andmissing him terribly, she replaced the dagger into the sheath andslumped back on the settle.
Now, she had to return the dagger to Dugald,the rightful owner. Did she want to send it by messenger? Or didshe want to personally deliver it and expose herself to theadditional heartbreak of seeing him again and knowing she couldnever have him?
Chapter Twelve
"Tell me who you sold the dagger to," Dugalddemanded of the arms shop owner in Perth.
"Sorry, m'laird. I didn't ask his name." Therotund, graying man glared at Mason and Braden, who waited near thedoor.
"Where was he from?" Dugald asked, hispatience wearing thin. The dagger had been here in this shop! He'donly missed it by hours.
"He didn't say, but I guess he was aLowlander."
Dugald didn't believe the whoreson… somethingabout the suspicious look in his eyes. "What did he look like? Washe a laird?"
The shop owner shrugged, trying to appearnonchalant, but Dugald noticed the tension in the man's shoulders."I couldn't tell. He wasn't a prince, nor was he a beggar. He haddark hair, dark eyes and was of average height." The man's eyesshifted back and forth, and he would only meet Dugald's gaze for amoment.
He wanted to call the man a liar, pointblank, but if he did he would get naught out of him. Nor could hebreak the man's nose, as he was sore tempted to do. Dugaldrestrained his temper, for he didn't want to get himself tossed inthe tolbooth when he'd only a short time ago got Mason out.
This damnable shop owner should've known thedagger was stolen property when he bought it from the thief.
"Which way did the buyer head when he left?"Dugald asked.
"I didn't watch. I was busy with othercustomers."
Dugald ground his teeth until he feared theywould crack. He would offer to pay the man for the information hesought, but he would likely take his every pence and keep lying.Men like him couldn't be trusted.
"Again, I'm sorry. I wish I could help you."The shop owner again glared at Mason, obviously expecting him tosnatch something and flee at any moment.
The shop door opened and the constable walkedin.
Dugald shook his head, muttered curses andstormed out. How the hell was he going to find his dagger? Hestrode to the inn—the same one where he'd abducted Camille a fewdays ago—and went up to his room. He had to think. Paying Mason'sbail had been the easiest of the tasks this day. Finding his daggerwas proving impossible, as was forgetting about Camille. Shehaunted his every waking moment.
Damnation, how he wished she was herenow.
He could hardly fall asleep that night,despite being tired from all his travels. He craved Camille's sweetbody in his arms. He had loved the night before, pulling her to himto hold her or to make love. He'd never had such an exciting womanin bed. But she was more than that… so much more he couldn't fathomit. Whatever mad fever possessed him made him think of bards' poemsand minstrels' songs.
He had gone daft as a hedgehog.
He buried his head beneath the pillow, tryingto block Camille's image from his mind. Evidently, he had onlydrifted to sleep when a loud knock sounded at his door.
"What?" he yelled, squinting against thesunlight streaming in the window.
"I wondered if you were all right, m'laird.'Tis almost noon," Owen called from the corridor.
Noon?'Slud! "Aye," Dugald growled andshoved himself out of bed. What the devil was wrong with him? Henever stayed in bed this late. As he dressed, nothing wouldcooperate and he ended up ripping his shirt.
Muttering curses, he opened the door andexited. In the common room, he joined his men who eyed him withcuriosity.
"I thought mayhap you had a woman with you,Chief. But I didn't ken how you'd slipped her past me," Owensaid.
"Nay," Dugald snapped. "I was tired." Andhellishly irritated. How could he make such a muck pile of hislife, losing both the dagger and the only woman he'd ever caredabout?
Owen gave a brief nod, wisely kept his mouthshut, then glanced away.
Dugald needed to find out if Camille made ithome safely. Aye, the thought settled his mind somewhat, enough toget a couple of bannocks and some eggs and bacon down.
After he ate, Dugald approached theproprietor alone. "Can you tell me where Draughon Castle is?"
