Highlander Assassinated (Highlander In Time #16)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

T he two of them settled down on opposite sides of the table, and Niall busied himself with uncovering the tray he’d brought with him. There was a bowl of something that looked like oatmeal, as well as thick, slightly unevenly, sliced bread, toasted recently enough that it was still warm, a generous helping of butter, and a jar of a thick, deep purple spread that Niall explained was blackberry jam. Though food had been the furthest thing from her mind for the last twenty-four hours, the sight of Niall spreading butter on a slice of bread awakened her sleeping appetite, which quickly made up for lost time. Lissa grabbed a knife and quickly prepared her own piece of bread, and for a while the two of them ate in silence but for the crunching of toast.

It was just about the best thing she could remember eating in her entire life. She almost found herself thinking that the whole chaotic situation would have been worth it for a meal that tasted this good. She glanced up from her second slice of bread to find Niall’s blue eyes resting intently on her — there was a faint, intimate little smile on his lips which he was a little too late to disguise when he saw her looking at him in turn. He averted his gaze, looking faintly embarrassed, and murmured an apology. Lissa finished her mouthful of bread before she spoke, reluctant to damage the solemnity of the moment by spraying crumbs everywhere.

“I’m guessing this feels pretty weird for you, huh?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” he said, but a little of the tension on his face had eased. “But I’d imagine it’s even stranger for you.”

Lissa shrugged. “I won’t argue that this is one of the weirder days of my life. But I don’t think it benefits anyone to make it a competition, hey? Let’s just agree we’re both having a weird one and leave it at that.”

Niall nodded fervent agreement, chuckling as he buttered another slice of toast. “You may be interested to know that the Laird has been informed of your arrival — he sends his warmest regards and apologies for having been unable to welcome you personally last night.”

“The Laird being?—”

“Laird Donal, head of our Clan.”

“Amelia said his wife’s from my side of the world?”

“That’s right.”

She leaned forward as one of the questions that had seethed through her mind all night came into sharp focus. “And what’s the deal with all that? Does everyone just — know the whole story, with the curse and the time travel and everything?”

Niall shook his head. “It’s considered a Clan secret — though it’s something of an open secret, given the role the MacClaran women have played in the political landscape of this place over the years, since they started turning up. Before the curse was broken, of course, it was of utmost importance to tell the men of the Clan in the hopes that they might be able to keep their wives safe with forewarning.” A shadow moved across his face at that, and Lissa bit her lip.

“You knew about the curse, then? When you married your wife?”

“Yes,” he said simply, and the grief in his eyes was hard to bear. “But you must understand… I didn’t think it could be true, not really. I was so far away from the Keep, surrounded by the city and distracted by my work… it sounded like an old fairytale.”

“I can relate to that,” Lissa said, smiling ruefully as she thought of the old man who’d entertained her with folk stories on the drive from the airport.

“And then I lost her, and it didn’t seem like a fairytale any longer… but of course, it was too late. When my brother told me about the second part of the curse, I’ll admit I didn’t believe him. I was angry with him, in fact. It seemed so cruel, to offer what I thought was false hope of her return.” He cleared his throat, uttered a hoarse little laugh. “But this is a sober subject for so early in the day, and I’ve failed entirely to answer your question.”

“It’s alright,” Lissa said, smiling. “I guess what I need to know is — how secretive do I need to be about where I come from? Do we need to come up with a cover story for where I came from for when I meet people outside of the Keep?”

Niall hesitated. “We might be getting a little ahead of ourselves there.”

“I don’t think so,” Lissa said brightly. “I’m sure as hell not going to stay cooped up in this room for weeks. If I’m here, I want to be part of things. Look around, get to know the locals. Learn to ride a horse.”

Niall looked thoughtful — though she could tell something about the idea worried him. “Perfectly reasonable plan, and if you’d arrived here at any other time I’d agree entirely,” he said, clearly choosing his words with care. “But unfortunately, we’re in the midst of a somewhat — fraught diplomatic situation.”

“Right, right. With the English, right? Lord Weatherby, the guy who owns the manor? Is he giving you trouble?”

“It’s a little more complex than that, unfortunately. The clan’s relationship with Lord Weatherby alone is — well, a little tricky, but over the last few years things have improved considerably. He’s come to be something of an ally to us, which came as a surprise — much of it having to do with the actions of your fellow travelers, in fact. The current problem regards the death of an English nobleman who’d been visiting Lord Weatherby. There were clan members involved, you see, which has prompted… well, a great deal of confusion.”

Lissa nodded, taking this in — and filling in the blanks that Niall was clearly too polite to flesh out. Though she wasn’t exactly familiar with the details, she knew enough about the country she was visiting to know that the relationship between the English and the Scottish was a complex one. And as they continued to talk about the political situation and the recent history with Lord Weatherby, nibbling at the rest of their breakfast, she got the distinct impression that this accidental death may well be the first domino in a cascade that could lead to all-out war.

“I’m surprised you’re so interested in all of this,” Niall said, breaking off from a more detailed explanation of the timeline of events. “I mean, none of this mess is your fault, or your responsibility to deal with.”

Lissa shrugged. “Maybe not, but I’m curious regardless. You and your brother and Amelia have been kind to me — and like it or not, I’m a part of things here now, right?”

“I suppose that’s a reasonable way to look at it.”

“When does the inquest start?”

“The English contingent arrived a few days ago, I believe.” Niall had explained that a delegation had been sent from England to stay with Lord Weatherby for as long as it took to apportion blame regarding the death of Lord Taffington — who, reading between the lines of Niall’s very diplomatic description of the man, had been a right piece of work. Entitled, domineering, unpleasant… it rang a lot of bells, reminding her of the men she’d been hired to protect her clients from.

“Presumably the inquest will begin soon, if it hasn’t already.”

“Presumably? You don’t know for certain?”

“The English contingent — did not request the presence of a representative from the clan,” Niall said carefully, but from the way he was twisting at the piece of bread in his hands, she could tell that this was a sore point. “Despite the fact that two of the direct material witnesses to the death of Lord Taffington live right here in the Keep. Amelia was in the carriage with Taffington the evening he died, you see. It was Hamish who ensured she didn’t die with him, by helping her out of the carriage and onto his horse while it was in motion.

Lissa’s eyes widened. “That’s a very dry way to tell what sounds like a very exciting story, Niall.”

He smiled a little at that. “Apologies. Old habits. At any rate, I imagine Amelia would tell the tale far better than I could.”

“But they don’t want to hear from her?”

“They haven’t made that request, no — but the three of us will be attending the inquest regardless,” Niall said. She was starting to get the knack of translating what he said — it had a lot to do with the way his eyes would flash, belying the dry phrasing. “Lord Weatherby, thankfully, is sympathetic to our cause, and owes both Amelia and Hamish a debt of gratitude. And given that the inquest, after all, is taking place on his lands and in his home, we’re confident that we’ll at least be given an audience with the English.”

“Sounds dicey,” Lissa said frankly, feeling her brow furrow as her intuition kicked into gear. “So the three of you are going to go over there — with a few guards, right?” She thought of the men she’d seen through the gate, the weapons on their hips — and then she considered the men atop the wall of the Keep. It seemed only fair to have a few of those guys along for the ride — but Niall was shaking his head.

“Our attending the inquest uninvited is provocative enough — Hamish and the Laird feel, and I agree, that bringing guards along would put the English too much on edge. We don’t want to provoke any more tension than strictly necessary.”

“Sure, but you don’t want to put yourselves in danger, either, right?” Lissa’s frown had deepened, her mind racing. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve got first-hand experience of how having backup can make a situation more tense, but if your safety’s at risk…”

“I do take your point,” Niall said with a soft exhalation. “I’ve been concerned about the matter myself, especially knowing how risky Amelia and Hamish’s situation was. And we don’t know much at all about the contingent who’ve come for the inquest — Lord Weatherby has been understandably preoccupied with his duties as a host. But it simply isn’t an option to ride to the Manor with armed guards. With the situation as it currently stands, there’s every chance that such an action would be directly interpreted as an act of war.”

“Well, we want to avoid that,” Lissa said, exhaling with a mixture of frustration and defeat. “But if the situation’s that serious, all the more reason that you three shouldn’t be going over there without backup. Unarmed, I’m guessing,” she added, lifting an eyebrow — Niall nodded agreement. “Exactly. So…” Lissa felt a grin spreading across her face. “Why don’t I come with you?”