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“Not so easy a task,” Lachlan admitted.
“What did she do at Everagis?” Artair asked.
“Everything,” Lachlan said. “The women and land flourished because of her. She even taught them how to defend themselves in battle, and disguised as mercenaries they kept the area safe.”
“How were they aware of who needed protecting?” Cavan asked.
“Piper, their tracker was like none I’ve ever known. She knew everything that was going on in the area. She could scent intruders in the air long before tracks were even found.”
“Then wouldn’t they have known of the mercenary troop long before the warring clans knew of their presence?” Artair asked. “And don’t either of you find it curious that the mercenaries never bothered Everagis?”
“Why would they bother nuns?” Lachlan asked.
“Why wouldn’t they unless they were paid not to,” Artair said. “They are paid thieves and murders, doing anyone’s bidding for a price.”
“Artair makes sense,” Cavan said.
“Artair always makes sense,” Lachlan said annoyed.
“You’re just angry because you didn’t see it yourself,” Artair said. “But it’s obvious why you didn’t.”
“Why is that?” Lachlan snapped.
“Love blinded you to the obvious.”
“He’s right again,” Cavan said.
“Are you suggesting that Alyce lied to me?” Lachlan challenged, annoyed that there might be some truth to what Artair suggested.
“She’s lied to you from the beginning,” Artair said.
“She had to,” Lachlan defended, not wanting for a moment to believe he couldn’t trust his wife.
“Then if she lied out of necessity, perhaps she does so again,” Artair suggested.
Sometimes Lachlan hated Artair’s reasoning nature.
“If that’s so,” Cavan said solemnly, “it could mean only one thing.”
Lachlan didn’t want to hear or believe what Cavan was about to suggest.
“Alyce could very well know something about Carissa and if that’s so, then she could possibly also know about Ronan.”
“Why not share it?” Lachlan asked.
“A necessity as I suggested,” Artair said, “perhaps an exchange or bargain of sorts agreed upon between her and the mercenaries.”
“It makes no sense,” Lachlan argued, though truly it did; he simply didn’t want to admit it.
“Find out,” Cavan ordered sharply, “or I will.”
Lachlan nodded, knowing Cavan had suffered along with Ronan during their capture and would do anything to see him safely home.
“Excuse me, sirs.”
The three looked up to see the lad who Henry the pig belonged to.
“Do you need help getting out of the mud?” he asked and held out his small hand.
Lachlan wasn’t surprised when he heard Cavan refer to the lad by name, Daniel, since Cavan was familiar with all in the clan. He made a fuss over his generous offer and Cavan allowed the lad to help the mighty laird out.
Lachlan remained sitting in the muck wondering just how long he’d remain stuck.
Chapter 28
Alyce was in the cottage when he arrived freshly washed and attired. While food waited on the table Alyce surprisingly seemed uninterested. She sat in a rocker by the hearth wearing a lovely deep blue linen gown and he silently thanked his sisters-in-law for their generosity. The dark blue made her own blue eyes all the more stunning, and he loved that she had left her long blond hair unbraided.
Her beauty never failed to startle him and he wondered if Artair had been right about love having interfered with his awareness. If he hadn’t been so taken by Alyce would he have questioned things at Everagis more?
She and Piper had disappeared often and the explanation was always the same. Someone needed help, but that someone, or specifics of the help, were never detailed. And why hadn’t Evan, a remarkable scout in his own right, ever been able to locate a single mercenary track?
Love truly must have blinded him because it was certainly blinding him now, since he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in a night of lovemaking with his wife. Or did he fear what needed to be discussed would not only cause a rift between them, but also damage the trust they had built? Or did trust exist at all between them?
“You’re not hungry?” he asked for want of anything else to say.
Alyce shook her head. “Not at the moment.”
He walked over to her, scooping up a small bench along the way and sitting on it beside her. “Does something trouble you?”
“Must you always be privy to my thoughts?” she snapped. “Will I have no time to myself?”
While Terese could be forward in her remarks, it seemed Alyce was more biting, almost as if she intended to leave her mark on you, least you forget she bit.
He took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “Why do you always feel the need to attack?”
She reacted as he expected. She yanked her hand, though could not free it, their fingers laced firmly.
“And why do you always feel the need to run from me?” he asked.
“I don’t,” she snapped and tugged once again.
“You are tenacious, but I”—he smiled—“am tenaciously patient.”
