13
Keira was too tired to do anything but slip into her bedroom just before dawn to find Moira waiting up for her. As soon as she saw Keira, she rushed across the room and gripped her by her upper arms, then shook her.
Keira saw relief and anger in her eyes and instantly felt ashamed.
“I was that worried about ye!” she cried, then began to weep softly, making Keira feel wretched.
“Where have ye been, ye silly girl?”
She looked up into Keira’s eyes, shaking her head, and Keira folded her arms around her friend, drawing her close and making soft, soothing noises.
“I am so sorry, Moira. I did not mean to upset you,” she said gently. “You knew I had a mission tonight, and I understand why you are upset, but I am well. The guards knew we were coming, but I do not know how. A few of us were injured, but nearly everyone managed to flee, thank goodness. But now Murdoch Holmes knows who I am.” She sat down and briefly outlined to Moira what had happened. “So I expect my father will be coming to get me soon.” She sighed and put her face in her hands.
“I will pack some clothes for ye, an’ ye can run away,” Moira said decisively.
“I cannot do that, Moira.” Keira was decisive. “I would have to leave you here to take whatever punishment he deems fit, and all for my crimes. I will not do that.” She went over to the fire to warm her chilled hands. “I will wait to see what happens, and in the meantime I will prepare myself for the worst. But there is one way out of this castle that even my father does not know about. If the worst comes to the worst, I will use it, and in the meantime I will keep a bag packed just in case.”
“I will pack it right away, Keira,” Moira said determinedly.
* * *
Three days passed, and everyone was readying the castle for the earl’s arrival. There was a frantic hubbub of activity everywhere, from the topmost turret to the dungeon. It had been very badly maintained; some of the bars on the cells had rusted, and some needed new locks. The whole place stank of sweat, urine, and mold.
The cracked and uneven flagstones were a nightmare for anyone who had to walk along the passage to the cells in the half dark. Many accidents happened to guards and prisoners alike due to them tripping up and falling on the pitted and bumpy surface.
It had fallen into disrepair because the laird did not enjoy spending money, but now that he was “expecting company,” he was obliged to make it secure, although not comfortable. The laird did not care about the state of the dungeons, but he saw reason when Murdoch pointed out to him that the rusty locks and cell bars could be easily broken and allow any prisoners an effortless escape.
Keira, on the other hand, did care about the dungeons. While new locks on the doors were being installed, she took a chance when the workmen were in the kitchen eating, stole the new keys, and made impressions on several bars of her soap. She had done the same thing before, after all, then she reasoned that her father could easily imprison her. Yes, it was a very good idea.
Then she hit a brick wall. Unfortunately, the man who had worked for her the first time was not alive any longer. She could have asked one of her men to find someone to make the keys since they all knew someone who knew someone who could do that kind of work. However, she had called off all their secret meetings now that Murdoch knew who she was. She carefully wrapped the soap in a swathe of linen and buried it at the back of her armoire behind her dresses.
Keira spent hours wondering what was taking Murdoch so long to turn her over to her father. Perhaps he was torturing her by another means, one that involved the mind rather than the body, because she was living in a state of perpetual anxiety and fear now. She had heard of such torture before.
She was waiting for his demands at any time since she was sure he was going to blackmail her, but why was it taking so much time?
Moreover, she needed to know who had betrayed them. She would have trusted any of her men with her life and doubted that any one of them would have done it. However, they might do it if someone had some kind of leverage over whoever it was. What? A threat to their families? The burning of their lands?
She was standing on the first tier of the battlements looking out at all the lands on the estate when Adaira came up to stand by her side. Keira had told her the whole story, so she was not surprised to see her looking dispirited.
“Has he said anything yet?” she asked anxiously.
“No.” Keira shook her head. “Every time I pass him, he looks away, and I fear that he is biding his time ’til he can bring some doom crashing down on me. After all, I am sure he is not a wealthy man. He could ask for any sum of money he wishes to buy my silence. I am not rich either, but even if I gave him a few hundred pounds, it would likely be a fortune to him. I do not know what is taking him so long, though.”
Keira thumped her fists hard against the stone wall in frustration.
Adaira caught her right hand and held it in her own. “If that happens, Keira, we will stand together.” Her voice was firm. “I think of you as my sister, and if you do not have enough to pay him off, I will help you, but I do not think it will come to that.”
“Why not?” Keira asked, turning to face her. “He has everything to gain and nothing to lose. What is to stop him from blackmailing me for the rest of my life?”
“He will not.” Adaira’s voice was firm, and her dark eyes shone with determination as they looked into Keira’s.
“Why not?” Keira chuckled. “Give me one good reason.”
“Because from what I can see, he cares for you,” Adaira said bluntly. “But if you do not believe me, then challenge him. Ask him what he is waiting for.”
Keira laughed again. “I will give it some thought. Some more thought, that is.”
* * *