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“Then ye didna have anythin’ to do with the disappearance of the crown?”
“I think at this time it is better if I didna answer that.”
“Ye had better say somethin’ to Alastair about it. If ye dinna, he is goin’ to have to execute me in the mornin’.” Niven got up, walked over and collapsed atop the bed, grabbing an overstuffed pillow, holding it to his chest.
“I highly doubt he will do that. But just the same, dinna say a word about me bein’ here.” She turned to go and saw the dog eating the food off the table. “Cerberus, nay!” She clapped her hands, scaring the dog.
“Why no’?” asked Niven. “What are ye goin’ to do?”
“Alastair MacPherson is no’ the only one who can play this game,” she said, already devising a plan that would not only put the man in his place but teach him that he should never underestimate the power of a woman.
* * *
“What doye mean ye dinna ken where Fia is?” Alastair asked his guard, pacing the floor of his solar as he spoke.
“I’m sorry, my laird. I didna ken I was supposed to watch her.”
The last Alastair had seen of Fia was when she ran off to the stable, crying. First, he was responsible for making Caitlin cry, and then he somehow did the same to Fia. Why did he feel like such a cur? He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone – except for mayhap his hellhound. He’d purposely left Cerberus with Niven so he could have a break from the beast. He told Niven it was so that the dog would protect him, but hell if that hound had ever protected anyone or anything in its life. Clan Grant could march in the front gate, and Cerberus would probably be happy, thinking the attack was just a game.
“Well, find her!” commanded Alastair.
“Yes, my laird.” The guard opened the door to leave only to find Fia standing there.
“There ye are,” said Alastair, making it across the room in three strides, pulling her inside. “Get in here, and dinna even think of disappearin’ on me again. Where were ye?”
“I went for a walk in the courtyard with Caitlin,” she said. For some reason, she was smiling when the last he’d seen of her, she’d been crying. The guard left, and Alastair closed and barred the door.
“Ye are lockin’ me inside the solar? Just like Niven is locked in the dungeon?”
He looked up sharply at the mention of Niven. “Niven doesna have to be imprisoned. That is, if I find that he is innocent after all. Do ye have somethin’ ye want to tell me?”
“Aye, I do.” She walked over and looked out the window as she spoke. “I was thinkin’ about the crown.”
“And?” He hurried over to her, feeling as anxious as Cerberus with a table full of food.
“And I think ye are right.”
“Right? About what?”
“About Niven being guilty.”
He took a step backward, watching her in a leery manner. “But ye said he isna guilty.”
“I’ve changed my mind.” She waved her hand through the air and glided over to the bed next.
“How so?” he asked, not liking the sound of this.
“That crown was a present to me from the late queen. It is costly and holds sentimental value since it is the only thing I had by which to remember my late grandmathair.”
“Ye didna even seem to care that it was missin’ before now.”
“I dinna like to show my emotions in front of the clan but, yes, I am verra upset about this. I think hangin’ Niven for the crime isna a fit punishment. Mayhap, ye should have him drawn and quartered instead, or perhaps stabbed in the heart and thrown from the top of the battlements into the moat.”
“Nay!” shouted Alastair, not understanding what had gotten into her. “How can ye even think of hurtin’ Niven like that?”
“Now it is my turn to remind ye – that is no’ what ye said earlier in the great hall. I think ye should execute him tonight instead of waitin’ till the mornin’.”
Alastair paced back and forth with his hand on his chin. This was not what was supposed to happen. “I’m sure there must be an explanation. Mayhap I should give him another chance.”
