"His son, Henry, whom I've never met."
Cyrus's intelligent gaze sharpened upon her. "How old is he and where does he live?"
"He's in his mid-twenties. The family owns an estate here, near Aberdeen, but their main seat is in Angus. I know very little about him."
Cyrus reclaimed his seat. "Did he know of his father's association with you?"
His direct stare made her want to squirm, but she remained still. "He must have."
"Henry, the young earl of Dalacroy, could be the one who paid your guards to leave."
She frowned, considering it. "Anything's possible."
"'Haps he covets all your properties, especially if he's having financial problems."
She nodded. It made perfect sense. "I do recall a few years ago, Alexander said Henry loved gambling and expensive horses."
"Both of those would quickly drain the coffers."
"'Tis true."
A determined look entered Cyrus's eyes. "We will have to investigate this Henry. Damnation, I wish I hadn't sent Sean and James back to Rebbinglen this morn. If I'd known then what I know now, I would've told them to bring back every man able to fight. If 'tis an earl we're going up against, we don't ken how large an army he has."
∞∞∞
The next evening, Cyrus stood in the shadows of the portico at the front of Darby Hall. He stared out into the descending darkness, listening to the silence. After what Elspeth had revealed the day before about Henry, the young Earl of Dalacroy, Cyrus, Fraser and the remaining four guards had kept watch.
Cyrus had kept an eye on the road leading northwest, waiting for Sean and James MacKenzie, his distant cousins who served as guards. He hoped they would return soon with the additional guards he'd told them to bring as they escorted Elspeth's servants and coach back here. Surely the coach's wheels were repaired by now.
He had no idea how large a force Dalacroy possessed, if indeed he was the culprit. Most any earl could put together a large army if necessary. Cyrus didn't want to underestimate him, for he had to protect Elspeth at any cost.
For most of the day, she'd stayed busy, seeing to Stillman and the household staff, making it easy for Cyrus to avoid her. While he'd spent the majority of his time with the guards and Fraser, working on securing the place as best they could.
Of a certainty, he wanted answers, more information from her, but most of it had naught to do with the enemy. She'd told him why she'd been the former earl's mistress… a matter of survival. He realized many single women and widows ended up living a marginal existence, in poverty and near starvation. In truth, Elspeth was one of the fortunate ones and very canny to have secured a good future for herself and her son, as well as her siblings. He admired her that, although imagining her with a lecherous earl twice her age did annoy the hell out of him.
She was strong to have endured all of it, not to mention selfless to have provided for her family in such a way.
The night air was doing naught to help him clear his head, but he was not yet ready to return inside and see Elspeth again. He needed to focus on the issue at hand.
He descended the steps and crossed the courtyard, wanting to check on Norval in the front gatehouse. Irving was stationed in the shadows, not too far from the side postern gate. His other two guards, MacNeil and Reid, were sleeping now in preparation for taking their turns at watch in the wee hours of the morn.
A black blur whizzed by Cyrus and a sharp pain burned across his shoulder. Cursing, he dove behind the stone steps of the gatehouse, then glanced at his shoulder. Blood darkened his torn doublet sleeve, but no arrow protruded. He yanked his sword from the scabbard.
Who the hell was shooting at him?
