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“I dinnae ken what ye mean,” Elaine replied, a little too hurriedly. Had he suspected there was a plot against him, and if so, could he suspect her of being involved?
“Some time ago, a dagger was found in the forest near where my wife and bairn’s bodies were discovered. The thing is, it was found much later than my family, which makes little sense. The area had been thoroughly searched. I just cannae believe the dagger was missed.”
No longer thinking about her own situation, she suddenly allowed herself to be dragged into the mystery of what Duncan was telling her.
“Then where did it come from?” she frowned.
Duncan shrugged beside her. “That is the question. There are markings on it that make us believe it belongs tae a member o’ a clan far away. Yet, that makes nae sense tae me either. Neither does it add up that those soldiers who invaded us last week wore nae tartans at all.”
Elaine’s head began swirling. For she knew the origin of at least one of those circumstances. Could the masked man be behind the rest of them? He did want Duncan dead. If he was willing to have him poisoned, it would not be a far stretch for him to have killed Cora and Eoin. But what about the dagger? Maybe her tormentor was actually from this other clan, so very far away. Yet, what had made him want to attack Duncan and his family? There were too many questions and not enough answers, and yet, she was now certain that horrible man was indeed involved in more than she knew.
“Ye’ve gone very quiet,” Duncan said, smiling down at her.
Elaine sighed and returned his smile. “I’m just thinking upon all ye’ve said. Yer right, none o’ it makes sense. But how are ye going tae find the answers?”
“Well, we’ve sent a few men tae speak with Clan Mackintosh tae see what they can discover. We’ve nae heard from them yet, and albeit the distance they had tae travel, they likely should’ve returned by now. It’s strange that we’ve heard nae word.”
A cold shiver ran down herspine. Maybe they, too, were dead. If the mystery man could gather such men to attack Dunollie Castle, killing a few soldiers traveling out in the open, especially if they were sleeping under the stars, would not be a difficult task. They could have camped out, slept for the night, and never awoke.
Should I say something?
What could she say? To offer such information would be to tell him she knew more than she ought. Duncan would want to know how she knew about the attack, or worse, demand to know if she herself had been involved. Besides, she was going to tell him the whole truth tomorrow. It would surely be better to bring it up then.
“Perhaps they have just been delayed,” Elaine offered, as a way of not lingering on the point. “Or perhaps Clan Mackintosh has been accommodating and is trying tae help. I’m sure that would delay their return.”
“Aye,” Duncan sighed. “Perhaps.”
He leaned toward her and took the goblet from her hand. “Though, if I am honest,” he smiled tenderly, “right now, I have far more important things on my mind.”
They made love once more. Duncan whisked heraway her to euphoric ecstasy by reminding her of what her body could feel and experience beneath his wonderful touch. When they finally fell asleep in each other's arms, Elaine had no idea what time it was. She didn'tcare either. She had pushed aside her fear of what she had to do, relaxed and completely content, with the slow beat of his beating heart sending her into a trance of peaceful sleep. She knew she didn't have to worry about what she had to do until the morning. She would cherish and savor what could be their final night together.
* * *
Duncan opened his eyes, knowing something had disturbed him. But for a moment, still stuck in that wistful place between sleep and awake, he was unsure of what. Slipping from the bed, the clock on the mantle told him he had hardly slept an hour, which confused him. For with Elaine wrapped in his arms, he had been in a state of exhausted bliss. It was only as he crossed the room to throw another log on the fire that he suddenly noticed something on the floor that had not been there before.
Moving toward it in the dim light, he saw a folded note only a foot from his door. That must have been what had woken him. Someone had knocked on his door and thrown the missive underneath. With a long stride, he opened the door and peaked his head out, looking in both directions. No one was there, in fact, apart from the wind whistling through the high castle walls, he could hear no sounds at all.
Duncan shut the door and turned the note in his hand. On the outside, there was no name or anything else written. Nonetheless, given that the note had been delivered to his bedchamber, it had to be for him. He walked towardthe mantlewhere a single candle remained lit. Breaking the wax seal on the folded paper, he threw the crumbled remains into the fire. He thenopened the note and read its contents.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Search Elaine’s chamber.
She is not who she claims to be.
Duncan held the note in his hand and read it again several times, as though by doing that, the words would make more sense. After his confusion settled, anger swiftly followed. Who would have the audacity to accuse his mistress of anything?
Elaine was the sweetest and most caring soulhe knew. He couldn't believe she was in the castle under false pretenses, let alone that she could lie or deceive him. Duncan, his anger boiling, resolved that when he discovered who had written this letter,he would have some harsh words for them.
However, as he pondered the accusation for a little longer, the things he had ignored gradually returned to him. Elaine claimed to be a lady of the night, but he was the first man to deflower her. Aside from that, she seemed to be exceptionally skilled with a sword, which was unusual for a woman of her profession. The more he thought about such discrepancies, the more his anger subsided and curiosity took its place.
Duncan looked across the room and watched Elaine sleeping softly. She looked as beautiful as she always did, calm and relaxed. There was no doubt that he was madly in love with her and had been for quite some time. But now there was a seed of doubt in his mind. Even though he couldn't believe she'd wronged him, he couldn't ignore the words on the paper in his grip. Duncan needed to address the doubt for his own peace of mind. Turning away from her, he left his bedchamber and made his way to hers.
The fire was low in the fireplace. Duncan threw several logs onto it, and the silence in Elaine’s chamber was broken by the sudden crackling of the flames licking the dried wood. A single candle still burned on the mantle in her room, but the light was dull. Taking another one that lay on a dresser nearby, Duncan pressed the wick to the flame and watched as the new candle flickered and glowed, coming to life in his hand.
With the candle held aloft, he turned and looked across her room, wondering where he ought to begin. The portrait of him remained at the head of her bed. Drawn to it, he moved across to the bed to look at it again.
How could she be capable of lying to me, and yet still produce such a beautiful piece of art?
