A frisson of fear prickled along Henry's nerves. "Are you threatening me?" he demanded.
"Nay." Fraser grinned without humor. "Simply being honest. Is that not what you want?"
"Why is he helping Lady Grey if they are not lovers? Is he a relative?"
"Nay. 'Tis because he's an honorable man. Something you ken naught about."
"Don't expect me to believe your lies. And I'm far more honorable than you barbarians." The two had to be lovers. 'Twas the only explanation that made sense. "Where were you headed?"
Fraser merely glared.
"Answer!"
"What do you want from Lady Grey?" he asked instead.
"Devil take it!" Henry felt like throwing his dagger at the insolent prisoner. "Put him in a dungeon cell. I'll deal with him later."
The Highlander struggled against the four guards who dragged him, cursing and yelling, toward the dungeon's entrance.
After watching to make certain they had the uncivilized man under control, Henry strode through the great hall and up to the solar. Smiling and feeling self-satisfied, he dropped into a chair behind his massive oak desk. He hadn't counted on this bit of good fortune and leverage. But this Fraser of the MacKenzie clan clearly needed some incentive to talk. Henry must have more information before he made his next move.
If Chief MacKenzie and Lady Grey were lovers, and if Fraser was an important henchman of MacKenzie, could Henry force Lady Grey to give him what he wanted through Fraser? She probably didn't care about Fraser, but the chief and earl might.
Could Fraser be even closer to the chief than a henchman? He might be a relative. Henry had no inkling if Fraser was his given name or his surname, or even his real name at all. Of a certainty, he was no peasant or lower-ranking guard, for he was as insolent as a cocky young prince. With his lean, muscular frame, he appeared to have trained as a warrior the whole of his life.
Could he be MacKenzie's brother? That thought propelled Henry from his chair, and he paced before the window. Brotherhood was something Fraser would wish to conceal if it were true, for 'twould give Henry great leverage.
In that case, the chief would be highly motivated to get Henry what he wanted from Lady Grey—the deeds to every property she possessed signed over to him. They were his birthright after all. His father had owned all of them in the past and hadn't been of sound mind when he'd deeded them to her.
Henry's new wife, Georgina, was insatiable when it came to clothing and redecorating. Plus, after the latest two stud horses he'd purchased, funds were low. He needed to refill his coffers.
Soon, Georgina would be having her autumn dresses designed and they would cost a bloody fortune. He didn't know why he didn't just tell her to stop wasting money. But she was a most exciting woman in the bedchamber. He had no need of whores or mistresses. Besides, he did not want to be like his father.
None of his father's other mistresses had amassed a fortune in property the way Lady Grey had. He'd had his solicitors and investigators check into all of them. Most of the women were near penniless now that his father was dead. All except for Lady Grey. She was far too canny and intelligent. He could not wait to see her destitute.
'Twas time to find out exactly who this Fraser was—a mere guard, or relative of the chief. Henry trotted down the steps and across the great hall, two of his guards following.
In the bailey, one of his men came running. "M'laird!"
"What are you doing here, Owenby?" Henry demanded. He and two more had been assigned to watch Darby Hall and put an arrow through anyone they saw.
"Padgett and Raber were killed." Owenby breathed hard.
"How?" Henry demanded.
"Some of the plaid wearing Highlanders arrived, along with a coach. We attacked like you ordered, but the MacKenzies shot Padgett and Raber with arrows. They have a deadly archer."
"Are you certain they were killed?" Henry yelled.
After jumping back, the man bobbed his head up and down emphatically.
"How many men arrived?"
"I counted six. Four Highlanders, the coachman, and another guard. Raber got one of the Highlanders in the thigh, though."
Henry ground his teeth. He'd hoped to eliminate all of MacKenzie's guards and weaken his force to naught. At least he hadn't garnered a whole army. Henry still had the upper hand. Now, he had to figure out how to use the Highlander in his dungeon to his advantage.
Ignoring Owenby, Henry strode to the dungeon's entrance. "I'm here to question the prisoner," he told Galway, the brawny warden.
"Aye, m'laird." Taking the nearby torch from the wall, he led the way down the dark narrow steps. Henry had never been down here before. He had no need of it. Fraser was his first prisoner. Henry grinned, enjoying his newfound authority.
"Fraser MacKenzie, I can well imagine your brother, the chief, will want you back forthwith." Through the iron bars, Henry watched his prisoner for reaction.
The torchlight flickering across the man revealed his eye was almost swollen shut and his hard jaw could've been cut from stone. Then, one side of his cut lip kicked up and he grunted. "Do you truly think the Earl of Stornmor would send his brother out with only two guards?"
"Aye, because he has very few men with him—which is, come to think of it, very arrogant of him. Likely, he sent you for reinforcements, so 'tis fortunate that I intercepted you." Henry grinned. "I'm thinking you'll bring a grand ransom of… whatever I ask."
"You're mad if you think the Earl of Stornmor will bargain with you. He would just as soon burn this place to the ground."
"Not with you in it, I wager."
