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“It doesnae make any sense!” he hissed.
Jonet stared at Jonathan’s red face and felt despair come over her. It mingled with her own breed of anger. Somehow she had put her faith in the killer, thinking that she and Matthew were the only ones in danger. She felt something akin to betrayal for the death of somene who did not deserve it.
“I’m sorry.” As quickly as it came, Jonathan’s anger went rushing out of him. He sagged, running a shaky hand over his face. “I shouldnae have done that. I should… I should head down to the dinin’ hall.”
“Jonathan…” He lifted a hand to ward her off, escaping through the door. Jonet sighed, turning to Matthew. Without a word, he embraced her. “What do ye think happened?” she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.
“I daenae ken,” he sighed. “I wish I did, but… it doesnae make any sense. Why would they go after Dougal?”
Jonet brought her thoughts to a sharp focus, shoving aside the sadness, terror, and rage she felt burning within her. “I have been thinkin’ about it all day. And I can only think of two reasons why they would want to kill him. Either they are getting’ rid of anyone who is tryin’ to find them, which terrifies me. Or…”
“Or Dougal found somethin’ and they wanted to make sure he couldnae say anythin’.”
Jonet let out a shuddering breath at his words. It was the only one that made the most sense to her. Dougal had been by her side for years. Why would they want to kill him now, if not for the fact that his investigation had been far more fruitful than anyone else’s?
“Do ye think she did it?”
Matthew shook his head. “I daenae ken.”
The maid who had found Dougal had disappeared during the disorder once more people began arriving to the bedroom. That had only served to mark her as guilty. Her father had acted in a fit of blind rage, one that did not seem very obvious past the ice in his voice as he issued orders to find her.
“I hope she hasnae gone far,” she stated. “I want to talk to her. There is somethin’ about it all that doesnae sit well with me.”
“I understand. But ye arenae goin’ to think about it anymore tonight.”
“I’m nae?”
“Aye, ye are headin’ straight to bed. Daenae think I havenae noticed that ye havenae been sleepin’ either.”
She lifted a brow at him. “My, if ye kent all this, it’s a wonder ye managed to keep quiet about it all this time.”
“I was hopin’ some time would help,” he slid his hand down to capture hers. He led her from the room, closing the door gently behind him. “But now I ken that if I daenae stop ye, ye’ll just keep goin’ until ye cannae go anymore.”
“Is there anythin’ so wrong with tryin’ to find me uncle’s killer?” Jonet’s tone was mild, not at all annoyed by what he was saying. The mere mention of sleep made her weary on her feet. Indeed, ever since Dougal’s body had been found, she had neither slept nor ate. The sausages were beginning to churn her stomach, but she ignored the feeling.
“I daenae ken how ye expect to find anyone when ye can hardly walk straight on yer own.”
She certainly was leaning rather heavily on Matthew. She was also not paying any attention to where she was going, hardly seeing the walls and windows that went by.
“That’s because I ken ye will take me where I want to go.”
“Aye.” Without warning, Matthew scooped her into his arms. Jonet let out a half-hearted yelp. “Daenae fight me, Jonet. It’s easier this way.”
“I ken.” She rested her head on his shoulder, listening to the soft padding of his feet as he brought her to her room.
He did not put her down when he arrived. He brought her over to the bed and laid her there. He sat and proceeded to undo the braids Freya had put in earlier that day. Jonet said nothing. She only stared at his handsome face, letting that familiar warmth rush through her.
When he was done, he fanned her hair out around her and took her hand. He leaned down to give her a tender kiss on the cheek. “Sleep,” he murmured.
Matthew began to rise. Jonet did not allow him to go far, tightening her grip on his hand. “Stay,” she whispered.
He stared down at her for a few moments before he nodded. That was when she decided to let go. She did not take his eyes off him as he rounded the bed and climbed in beside her, pulling her into him.
It had been their routine ever since the Laird told him to keep her close by, but no day had comforted her so much as today. Fast acting tears ran down the side of her face, ending up lost in her hair.
She made sure her voice would not crack before she said, “I love ye, Matthew.”
He gathered her even closer. “I love ye too. And we will get through this.”
