Page 75 of Anice’s Bargain

He roused himself with much regret. He longed to be back at her side, in the warm comfort of her bed. With her.

Damn his father and this whole bloody scheme. James pulled on his leine and trews and quietly slipped from the room. But as he left, he caught a soft sniffling coming from the bed. He immediately said a prayer for his wife, in the hopes she was not falling prey to any illness and made his way to his father’s room. Surely, they had enough planned out that their meeting would be brief, and James could return to Anice before his side of the bed cooled.

Lord Bastionbury had most likely gotten his letter by now. The thought invigorated James. With luck, he would have a reply soon. Preferably a favorable reply.

He pushed open the door to his father’s room and saw not only the old man, but several of his reivers with him. A grim set to Laird Graham’s face bespoke of plans gone awry. Finally.

Relief relaxed James’s shoulders.

“How could ye?” Laird Graham growled. “I trusted ye.”

A knot of apprehension coiled in James’s stomach. The first rule of being interrogated was to never assume the person knew the truth.

“What in God’s name are ye talking about, old man?” James stalked deeper into the room and stood in front of his father.

“I think ye know.” Laird Graham’s lips curled back to reveal his yellowed teeth. “I should’ve gone with my gut and kept ye out of this.”

James crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll have my crimes told to me if I’m to be judged.”

“Betrayal,” his father squawked. “Telling that lass of yers all about our plans.”

James regarded the old man with a genuinely furrowed brow. “Ye mean Anice?”

“Aye, unless ye got a different lass ye’re no’ telling me about.” Laird Graham cast a grim scowl at him. “And if that be the case, I hope ye’ve not told her as well.”

“I didn’t tell Anice anything. What are ye going on about?”

Laird Graham’s lower jaw thrust forward in a stubborn scowl. “Why else would she be leaving the castle tonight with her man?”

“With her man?” James muttered. “Ye dinna mean Drake?”

“Ach, aye, what other man would I mean?” James’s father rolled his eyes. “They’re always going together, whispering, the two of ‘em.”

James didn’t need to hear this. His father was just trying to push a wedge between them, to keep James for himself. It wouldn’t be the first time. James narrowed his eyes. “What are ye saying?”

“Yer wife plans to sneak out of the castle tonight with Drake,” his father spoke slowly, as he would with someone who was hard of hearing. “Because ye told her our plans.”

The old man was mad. Or had false information. Or both. Anice would never leave him. She would never do that to him. Just tonight, she had clung to him as they joined bodies. She was not Morna.

“I told her nothing.” James unfolded his arms and leaned over his father. “And I dinna care for yer accusations toward my wife.”

“Ye dinna know. Ye really dinna know?” Laird Graham stared at him for a long moment and then gave a wheezing laugh. “The stable lad saw Drake messing about within one of the stalls and later uncovered everything needed for saddling the horses quickly buried under the hay. So, why would they need to saddle their horses quickly, if they were planning to stay?” He turned to the other reivers. “Take him with ye when ye go. James needs to see this with his own eyes, then mayhap he’ll believe me: his wife is leaving by cover of night.” His father stared pointedly at James and added, “with Drake.”