Chapter 7
Ryder gingerly climbed the stairs to the East Tower, straining his ears. He could hear the distant muffle of voices, but the echoes ruined everything in the Keep, and he couldn’t make out much more.
The stone steps grew steeper the higher they went. The steps grew uneven, chipped with age, and sometimes even slick with rain or frost. The windows had no glass, and the weather came flooding in as much as it liked.
Ryder didn’t mind the cold. He would just stoke up the fire in his room, pile more blankets on his bed, and sleep soundly. He always slept better when his room was cold.
Megan hadn’t returned to his study, so he assumed that Sophie had indeed taken her to meet Alaina.
That assumed that things had gone at least moderately well.
As far as he could tell, the lassies did like Megan, which of course was a crucial part of the plan.
Naturally, anything could go wrong at any moment.
It was surprising to realize just how anxious he was about the whole thing. If Alaina and Sophie turned their backs on Megan, or if she was exposed, the entire game was up. She might as well leave. She would probably want to leave, since she disliked him so intensely.
That gave him a niggle of worry, too. Why did she hate him so much? What had he done, really?
Stupid, stupid, Ryder chastised himself. So she doesnae like ye. So what? It doesnae matter if she likes ye, what matters is that ye both keep up yer end of the bargain. It doesnae even matter if Alaina likes ye, so long as ye can keep her safe.
He climbed a little higher, trying to make out the words.
The tight spirals of the towers could distort any voice, making it impossible to tell who was speaking, or even if they were male or female, until you were right upon them.
Perhaps Alaina had been coaxed out of her room, perhaps Megan was talking to her about…
He rounded another turn and found the three guards he’d stationed outside of Alaina’s room, lounging against the walls and talking. One of them was smoking a pipe.
They flailed into life, jerking to attention, pikes clanging against each other. The one with a pipe visibly panicked and threw it out the window.
There was an awful silence after they had stopped scrambling. Ryder glanced from face to face.
“Well, now, lads,” he said at last. “This doesnae look like Lady Alaina’s doorway, does it?”
The lead guard reddened. “Lady Megan told us to go down a few steps. We thought it best to obey her, with her being yer betrothed.”
The man’s eyes landed questioningly on Ryder when he said betrothed, as if he were expecting Ryder to disagree.
“Aye, that was right. And she is me betrothed, for the record,” he added. The guard paled just as quickly as he’d reddened, which seemed interesting. Not that there was time to investigate.
Ryder strode past them, climbing upward. He paused just before rounding the curve that would take him out of their sight and glanced back down at them.
“For future reference, ye are to obey any order Lady Megan gives ye. But I want to be informed of those orders, do ye understand?”
The men clicked their heels.
“Aye, me Laird,” they chorused.
He gave a nod and continued climbing upward.
He reached Alaina’s landing shortly after. The door was ajar, just by an inch, and he paused, one hand on the wood, and listened.
It was eavesdropping, of course, and not something an honorable man should get involved in. Fortunately, Ryder was not an honorable man.
Honor, like duty and romantic love, only seemed to make life more complicated, not less.
Honor wouldn’t keep you alive on a battlefield.
Honor wouldn’t soothe a man’s bereaved family after he’d made some stupid decision and gotten put in the ground for it.
No, honor was a thing eschewed by sensible men, and Ryder was a sensible man.
Eavesdropping, when used correctly, was a pretty handy tool.
He could hear Megan speaking inside, a smile in her voice that he hadn’t noticed when she was talking to him.
“…just like Brigid,” Megan said, chuckling a little. “Brigid had the same black-and-white view of the world as Sophie does. They remind me so much of each other.”
“Had?” Alaina queried. “So, yer sister doesnae see the world in black and white now, does she?”
“I suppose nae. Ye cannae go through life like that. There are so many shades of gray, so much to consider. A viewpoint like that can keep ye honest, I suppose, but it also restricts yer worldview. And that is where the danger comes in. After all, if yer enemies are just yer enemies, with nay redeeming qualities or any explanation for their actions, how could ye ever forgive them?”
Alaina was silent for a moment. “I see what ye mean,” she said at last. “But I daenae agree that it’s always so bad. I cannae believe that the world is so complicated.”
“Ach, lass, the world is more complicated than either of us could imagine, I’m afraid.”
They were getting on well, then. If Alaina had invited Megan into her room, that would have definitely been a step in the right direction. It didn’t sound as though Sophie was there, but he had smelled frying bannocks as he climbed the stairs, which would explain where she’d gone.
“Brigid was always so cheerful, so happy. She always looked on the bright side of everythin’, ye ken. I think that’s a fine quality,” Megan continued. Ryder heard a softness in her voice when she talked about her sister. It was endearing, really.
Alaina spoke again, and this time her voice dripped with fury.
“Well, I used to be cheerful too. Then me braither chose to lock me away, puttin’ those beasts on the doors.
Now I’m… I’m… I’m bitter! I’m bitter, and I hate it!
I snap at me sister; I’m awful to everybody.
I’m exhausted during the day, and I cannae sleep at night. I’m bitter, and I hate bein’ bitter.”
“I must confess,” Megan responded, a hardness creeping into her voice, “I daenae approve of what yer braither has done. Even though I’ll be marryin’ him, only a monster would keep his sister locked up in such a way. Or anybody, really.”
Ryder jolted back, his eyes wide. Had he misheard? No, he hadn’t. She’d really said all of that. Shock and surprise were quickly overtaken by anger.
How dare she? he thought, rage clouding his vision.
I explained me reasons, far more than she was entitled to hear, and yet she still picks fault?
I have done what I had to do, and there’s nay reason for her to turn against me.
She’s meant to be me betrothed! She’s meant to be on me side, not butterin’ up me sister against me!
This was more than enough. Knowing full well that it was a bad idea, Ryder kicked open the door.
The door flew back against the wall with a bang. Alaina jumped, squeaking in alarm. Megan didn’t even flinch, and he did spare a moment of admiration for that.
“Lassies,” he greeted, offering a tight smile. “I’m glad to see that ye are gettin’ on so well. Megan, could I trouble ye for a brief word outside?”
He didn’t wait for her to respond and instead turned on his heel, striding away.
If she’s smart, she’ll follow me.
It seemed that she was smart. He heard her footsteps tip-tapping after him. On the landing, he began to climb upward, to the last inhabited room in the tower, and heard her start to follow him.
The steps here were steeper, and the rooms began to narrow. The rooms above the next one were mainly used for storage, as they were markedly colder than the rest of the Keep.
He reached the next landing and took a key out of his pocket, turning it in the lock. It was a bad lock, and he was obliged to nudge the door with his shoulder before it would open. It did open, of course, as it always did, and then they were inside.
Megan followed, eyes wide, glancing around the room. He watched her gaze flit over the spartan decorations, free of rugs and tapestries.
“Whose room is this?” she asked cautiously.
“Mine,” he responded briefly.
The bed was a four-poster, but he’d dispensed with the curtains that were meant to hang around it.
They only collected dust and the occasional mouse.
He’d found a bat there once. The floor was plain stone, and the hearth was empty and cold.
The only decoration was a large fur rug spread out in front of it, a single chair, and a stool perched on the edge.
It had once been a bear, and now it just collected dust.
He turned his back to the empty fireplace and turned to face her, knotting his hands behind his back.
“Ye are a clever lass, Megan,” he murmured, eyes fixed on hers. “So I imagine that ye can tell why I’m a wee bit upset at what ye said to Alaina about me.”
She clenched her jaw. “I am a wee bit upset that ye eavesdropped.”
“It’s just as well I did. Yer duties here are to protect me sister, nae turn her against me.”
Megan narrowed her eyes. “I am nae turnin’ her against ye. Ye have done that nicely yerself.”
“Mind yer tongue.”
She ignored him and took a step forward. “I am tryin’ to win her trust. I am nae lyin’ to her, and I am nae here to make ye look better. I can only protect her if she trusts me, and she can sniff out a liar at a hundred paces, or so it seems.”
“Well, since she seems to believe that we are truly betrothed, I would deny that.”
Color rushed into Megan’s face. He wondered briefly if her skin heated up when she flushed. He wondered how far down that blush went.
That was not a proper thought, and he gave his head a tiny shake to send it away. This was business.
“Perhaps I was nae exactly proper,” Megan said at last, having visibly calmed herself down, “but I stand by what I said.”
He rolled his eyes. “Nae proper? Ye think?”
“I have never been proper in me life, and I daenae intend to start now,” she shot back. “If ye wanted yer fake betrothed to be proper, ye have made the wrong choice.”