Flame

Chapter 18

18

When he stepped into the Great Hall, Gavin stopped to look about him at the long rows of tables. Most of his own men and many of Athol’s had already settled at the tables, lounging or eating their morning meal.

The Lowlander’s eyes settled on Allan, who was sitting with Edmund and Peter at one of the tables. The older man’s surly expression told him that the steward looked to be the target of Peter’s wit this morning. In a lull between the storms last night, Gavin had asked Joanna about the steward. Why, he’d asked, had Joanna not chosen to seek out the older man’s assistance, rather than going into hiding?

The answer had been all too obvious to Joanna. The mute woman Margaret was Allan’s younger sister, and what chance did a feverish, grieving young woman have of being believed against the word of kin and fellow workers the steward had known his whole life.

Well, he was not about to blame her now for being suspicious. After all she had been through, she had earned the right. Gavin looked about for his guest, Athol.

Against his wishes, Joanna had this morning insisted on returning to the darkness of the caverns beneath the keep. No matter what he said, he knew he hadn’t even come close to persuading her to stop hiding her existence from the household. He had even tried to get her just to stay in his bedchamber and bar the door.

Stubbornly, she’d refused his offer, giving him only her word before leaving that she would return after nightfall. But now, as Gavin thought a bit anxiously about the all too involved Earl of Athol, he felt a stab of uneasiness. He should not have let her go. She herself had told him that Athol knew his ways around the caverns of this keep. What if the blackguard was, right now, traipsing through those tunnels himself?

Gavin whirled, ready to return to his chamber and find Joanna himself. She would listen to reason if he had to...

“I see you’re as late a riser as I this morning.”

Gavin lurched to a stop before the Highlander, narrowly avoiding barreling into the man. As he looked into the earl’s face, he struggled to hide the look of relief that he was certain was stealing across his face.

“On second thought,” Athol added, irony evident in his tone. “You look as though you have been up for some time. And what occupies the master of Ironcross Castle this fine morning? Chasing Joanna’s portrait around the South Hall?”

“Are you mocking me?” Gavin growled menacingly, studying the man. “It seems to me that, for someone who has been in this keep less than two days, you know a great deal more about the affairs of Ironcross Castle than befits a guest.”

Athol shrugged his shoulders with a wry smile as he turned toward the Great Hall and its occupants. “It’s not too often that one hears a more amusing story than the one being told around this keep. Do you not think it amusing that a man of your reputation should lose his temper every time some servant moves a painting? Every kitchen lass and stableman is talking of it, though I believe they are a wee bit unsure of whether to laugh or to fear you all the more.”

“That shows great wisdom on their part,” Gavin growled, keeping his eyes on the tall man’s profile. “You know, Athol, I would almost believe you learned of this in the manner you say, if you were one to charm a scullery maid or even hang about the stables. But having had the pleasure of experiencing your sour disposition for the past two days, I’d have to say it is unlikely you would be welcome in either place.”

Seemingly ignoring the barb, John Stewart looked through the huge doors of the Great Hall before turning and giving Gavin a half smile. “So you’ve not yet rooted out the culprit, if I’m not mistaken.”

Gavin paused and contemplated his answer. Right before him stood a man who—jovial though he might be on the surface—could easily be the very person responsible for the murder of Joanna’s parents. In spite of what Joanna had seen and heard, Athol was still as suspect, in Gavin’s eyes, as the women of the abbey. And besides, the Highlander irritated the hell out of him.

Gavin turned and met the other man’s gray eyes. “So far I’ve been at a disadvantage, since this thief knows of more ways than one to travel through the passages of this keep.” He furrowed his brow in a frown. “And every attempt I’ve made to find a guide to take me through the caverns has met with blank stares and silence. One might think my new vassals are siding with the scurvy dog.”

“To be sure, any number of the household servants should have no difficulty in taking you around.” The Highlander returned Gavin’s frown. “Allan, for one, has been living in this place from the time he was a wee bairn. His great, great grandsires probably hauled stones to build the place. Aye, if I were to point to one with a fair, strong memory, Allan would be my first choice.”

“Well, he claims that he hasn’t been anywhere near those tunnels for quite some time. But from what I hear,” Gavin continued, “you yourself were raised in these hills. I understand you spent more than a few hours in this castle as a lad.”

“And who would tell you that? You wouldn’t have me believe you are one to be fooling with the lasses in the kitchen.”

“Believe what you like,” Gavin growled. “But I’m not one to have a neighbor so near as you without wanting to know what I can about him.”

Athol looked steadily at him for a moment, and then nodded thoughtfully. “Aye,” he agreed. “And letting your neighbor know where he stands seems to be your way as well.”

Gavin grunted his assent.

“You are a bluff and honest man,” the earl said earnestly. “A rare quality in a flatlander.” His attention was drawn to a trencher of food being carried by a serving boy across the Great Hall. “I don’t know if you have chewed up your daily measure of stray neighbors, but I need to put some food in this empty belly of mine.”

“First tell me, are you quite familiar with the tunnels beneath this keep?”

The Highlander’s expression was controlled as he considered his answer, but watching him, Gavin decided that the man’s answer would very likely confirm his own suspicions. In fact, as he waited, Gavin became more and more certain that Athol would try to hide the truth.

“Aye, my good host. In fact, I would say that there are few people outside this household more familiar with those caverns than I.”

Gavin watched the Highlander c**k an eyebrow at him before turning and striding toward the table—and the food—that awaited them. Quickly disguising his surprise at the man’s open acknowledgment, the laird followed a step behind.

As they reached their places at head table, Gavin motioned for the earl to be seated. “I’ll make you an offer. An exchange. I shall not ask you how it happens that you should be an expert on the so-called ‘secret’ passages beneath this keep, and you will give me a lesson.”

Athol tore a leg off of one of the roasted ducks that sat before them, before turning to answer. “There is no need to bargain. I’ll gladly show you around...and still tell you how it is that I’ve come to know so much.”

Gavin looked skeptically at his guest’s face. “Is that so?”

“Are you always so mistrustful, or is it only when you’re dealing with a new neighbor?”

Gavin frowned and fingered the goblet on the table. “I believe I’ve always been considered a trusting man. But somehow that trait has taken leave of me since I’ve arrived at the Highlands.”

Athol grunted and turned his attention back to his food.

“Now,” Gavin continued, “would you have any idea why I should be so afflicted?”

“I only offered you a tour through your own keep,” the Highlander said between mouthfuls. “I think you should call a priest to exorcise those demons.”

“Ah, it’s a relief to find out that the good Earl of Athol is not a master of all trades.” A wry grin tugged at Gavin’s lips as he drew out his dirk and stabbed a hunk of cheese from his own trencher.

“I said you should call a priest,” Athol said slyly, reaching for his cup. “But if you would like me to pray over you, as well...”

“Never mind all that,” he growled. “Are you willing to take me through the caverns?”

“Are you serious?”

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t be?” The Lowlander did not relax the intensity of his gaze while the earl considered the question.

“Nay, I can think of no reason at all, now that you mention it.” Athol drained his cup. “And when is it that you would like this merry expedition to take place?”

“Today,” Gavin said with conviction. “This morning. Finish your food, m’lord earl, and we can start.”

One quick look at her meager possessions and Joanna felt her heart leap with alarm in her chest. She crouched low, her eyes peering into the darkness beyond the little circle of light around her. Someone had been here; there could be no mistaking the signs. Her cloak and the ragged shift no longer lay where she’d left them, folded and tucked beneath her little nest of straw. Someone had looked them over and shoved them back under the makeshift bed, and Joanna’s blood ran cold.

The cavern beyond the low overhang was silent and still. Getting down on her hands and knees—the lamp in hand—she peered at the surface of the ground leading out of the little hollow until she found the footprints of the intruder. Boots. A large man’s boots.

Giving her cloak one quick shake, Joanna hastily threw it around her shoulders and tied it at her throat. Well, as far as finding out who had gone through her belongings, there was not much she could do about it now. But there was something that she was certain of. Whoever had been here would be back.

Picking up the flint and putting whatever else she could into the deep pockets of her cloak, Joanna turned and gave her temporary quarters one last look. Once again—and so soon, it seemed—her shelter was being taken from her.

Once again, she thought wearily, it was time to go deeper into the darkness of these caverns to find yet another place of safety. But first, she had to go to the crypt. With so few days left until the full moon, she still had much to do to be ready.

Joanna moved hurriedly along the edge of the loch, but as she went, she didn’t see the shadow that flitted along the far wall, following her.