Chapter Twenty-Four #3
“I know what one means. I ken what three means. I doona’ know what two means.”
“Why na’?”
“I’ve never heard it. I imagine it means to keep an eye out.”
“Hmn.” The moan of sound rumbled through his chest. It sounded like acquiescence, so she just continued her complaints.
“Then, there are the beams. You spent so much time putting them in all your chambers. It was a total waste of gold, clutters up good space, and they’re very difficult to keep clean…when you’re not hanging furniture from them.”
“All of which has kept several carpenters, masons, and woodcutters employed that I recall. It still does.”
“Right.” She nuzzled her nose against the mound that had the heartbeats coming from it.
“You think I have another reason?”
“I know you do,” she answered.
“Really? Do tell.”
“You have steps cut into your walls, or hidden into fireplaces, or you have them fashioned right out of your bookshelves without any subtlety at all. They’ve been designed into the very walls.
They all lead to a beam, and from there you can reach any number of your perfect little windows without much effort.
You could even bring a weapon while you did so. ”
“A weapon? You have strange ideas, my dear. You don’t think I did it to correct the symmetry of each room?”
“Oh nae, not with you. They have another reason.”
“What would that be, if I may be so bold?”
“They’re for defense. The same as your cannons.”
“Cannons?” He was still stroking a hand along her back, and his breathing hadn’t changed, but he was going to have to work on the rest of his body, for his heart had definitely gotten stronger and faster. She smiled slightly. He wasn’t a perfect liar after all.
“Aye. Cannons, and then there’s the complete armory that’s in your chapel. You can defend just about anything against just about any foe. Only you’re willing to risk it all for naught.”
“I am? This doesn’t sound like me.”
“You want to fight the battle of Drumossie Moor again, and you want it to come out differently this time.”
“What Scot doesn’t?”
“You think you can change history, and I’m afraid that you’re planning on that very thing.”
“How am I doing that?”
“You’re trying to buy it with this gold of ours. How much of it do we have, anyway?”
“More than we can count in this lifetime.”
“Why?”
“Commodities and exchange.”
“What?” Lisle wrinkled her nose.
“Commodities are things people want and I offer. Exchange is what they get for spending their gold for my commodity. Simple. Complex.”
“Are you—we…also slavers?”
“You believed that?”
“You’re a good actor, Langston.”
“Thank God. I was beginning to think myself pathetic at it.”
“Why so?”
“All these tales you have of my—our home.”
“So…are we?”
Langston sighed. She rose and fell with it. “Solomon tried it once. It wasn’t worth the gold. There are easier ways. He sold the ship. ’Tis a shame, actually.”
“Your partner is nae longer a slaver, and that’s a shame?”
“He always treated the cargo humanely. That isn’t always the case. It rarely is.”
“Then put a stop to it.”
“Me? How?”
“Use your gold. Buy a stop to it.”
“I have nae power to do such. You can’t change the world.”
“Aha!” The word was accompanied by lifting her head sharply. She wanted to see his face as he heard it. Unfortunately, her movement made the room swim again, her belly rumble warningly, and she put her head back down almost as swiftly as she’d lifted it.
His chuckle sounded even stranger that his voice had. Lisle listened to it.
“A man can only change a portion of it, Lisle love.”
“You can also…die.”
“I know. That’s why I had a dower house built.”
“A dower house?”
“For a dowager. That’s what you’d be. In the event of my death, that is. You wondered where all the furniture went, dinna’ you? At least, that’s what I ken you were thinking when we first reached the dining room the other night. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong.”
He chuckled again. “Tell me I’m wrong, and make it believable.”
“That wasn’t what you said. You think you ken everything about me, Langston Monteith?”
“You’re very easy to read, love. It isn’t your fault. ’Tis those clear, sky-blue eyes, and the way you grasp and feel this life of ours. You almost have me feeling it, too. That’s what makes you so special to me.”
“You doona’ know anything about me.”
He sighed long and deeply. “Very well. You wish to argue? Carry on. I do ken one thing, though.”
“What?” she asked.
“It was a very good idea to take this honeymoon trip. Very.”
“In the midst of all your planning and intriguing and work, you leave? There must be a reason, and I knew right away what it was.”
“Really?” Langston asked.
“You wanted me out of the castle. You’re moving things. Changing things. I’m too observant. I might find out, and then what? The captain might be able to guess my knowledge from my face? I never even spoke to the man.”
That got her another large sigh. “I know. All eve he looked at me closer than he’s ever looked at me before because of it.”
“What? Why? I did naught!”
“You do so much. You just doonna’ see it. The scarf was a dreadful idea, too. I lost my mind. I was jealous. I can’t afford such emotion. Not now. That is why you’re with me, love. That…and I’d be incredibly lonely otherwise. This is a honeymoon, you ken?”