Chapter 14
They drew closer to her door, and once they stopped, his eyes remained fixed on her while she turned the lock. He waited for a beat, watching her intently. Deep down, he knew that if she asked, he would stay.
A moment of silence passed between them, and Jack wondered if she was thinking the same thing. Did she also have an insane urge to pull him close and drag him to her bed?
“Ye should rest, lass,” he eventually said, breaking the silence. “It has been a long night.”
“Aye.”
He lingered on the threshold and watched her step further inside.
The pull to cross it was strong, but he resisted it.
He wanted to put his mouth on hers, wanted the dark outside to keep its distance.
However, one of those two felt more immediate than the other, and it wasn’t settling on the warm bed on top of her.
“Sleep tight, Emma,” he said. “There is something I need to check on.”
She nodded once, and he closed the door. The lock clicked into place, and the silence returned.
He turned toward the stairs and headed down to the courtyard, then stopped to listen when he got to the training grounds. The night wind whipped at his cloak, and the lanterns bent toward the castle, then straightened.
The sound he had heard earlier came again, this time louder and even more daring.
“Show yerself before I find ye,” he growled.
No answer.
His hand found the dagger at his belt, and he crept down the yard, his pace even and his breathing slow. The hedges ahead shifted, and for the briefest second, a shape moved behind the leaves and further into the darkness.
Jack sprang into action.
He jumped over the low fence, letting his boots take the soil without a slip.
The intruder ran along the garden’s edge, and Jack saw the dagger in his hand, thanks to the quick flash of moonlight.
The blade was short and held at the wrong angle, which meant the man was either new to this work or reckless, or both.
“Drop it,” Jack barked.
The man ran faster.
Jack lengthened his stride and closed the distance between them. The intruder tried to swerve and lost his balance for half a step, giving Jack all the leverage he needed. He drove through the gap and hit him hard.
They went down together, the roll ending with Jack on top, knee planted on the man’s chest and dagger pressed to his throat.
“Who sent ye?” he demanded. “Speak.”
The intruder’s breath rasped under him. The hood hid most of his face, but fear showed in the set of his mouth.
Jack punched the dirt beside the intruder’s ear, feeling the ground soften beneath his fist. “Daenae make me ask again.”
The intruder squeezed his eyes shut, words spilling through clenched teeth. “People were curious about yer bride.”
“What?”
“They wanted to ken if…” the intruder trailed off, his eyes opening again and looking around for something.
“If what?” Jack prompted harshly.
The intruder dragged a hard fist across Jack’s face. Jack felt the pain splinter across his jaw as the man reached for the fallen knife.
“Ye shouldnae have done that,” Jack spat, steadying himself.
Before the man could do anything else, Jack caught his wrist and turned it. Bone gave with a clean crack, and pain tore a hoarse shout from the intruder’s throat.
Jack kicked the blade away and rose, keeping hold of the man’s collar. “On yer feet.”
The intruder tried, but his knees gave out. Jack hauled him up and dragged him toward the fence. The cold night wind rose again and dried the sweat at the nape of his neck. He did not look into the trees for a second shadow. He knew if there was one, it would have already run by now.
“Walk,” he bit out.
The intruder staggered and obeyed. He cradled his broken wrist against his chest and stumbled when the ground dipped, but Jack kept him moving.
“I told ye, just lookin’. Folks wanted to ken if she was here. Nay harm intended,” the intruder sputtered.
Jack could tell the man was using words as a final resort, but he was past that by now.
“Nay harm,” he said flatly. “Ye mentioned her name and still think I am going to make this easy on ye?”
He lifted the man by the collar and threw him over the fence, hearing his body hit the dirt with a thud. Jack landed a breath later and yanked him back up.
The intruder made one last try. “Ye are breaking me arm,” he said, as if realization had just dawned on him.
“Already done,” Jack said.
He adjusted his grip on the man’s collar and hooked his fingers at the back of his neck to steer him clean through the next step. They reached the threshold, and he planted his feet, squared his shoulders, and shoved the intruder forward. The man stumbled and caught himself on one knee.
Duncan and Troy came quickly from the hall, with two guards behind them. Their swords hissed out of their sheaths as they circled the intruder. Duncan took in the bent wrist and the blood at the corner of the man’s mouth.
“Jack,” Duncan gasped. “What in God’s name?”
“Take him to the dungeons,” Jack ordered. “I will question him at first light.”
Troy gave a sharp nod. “Aye, me Laird.”
The guards seized the intruder and dragged him away. He whimpered when his broken wrist knocked into stone, and blood dotted the floor behind, but they didn’t stop. One guard kicked the fallen knife ahead of them so he would not have to stoop to retrieve it.
Jack turned toward his study, and Duncan fell into step beside him.
“Ye do plan to tell me what is going on here, do ye nae?”
“In due time,” Jack responded, his voice clearer than the night sky.
“In due time?” Duncan raised his hands in despair. “A patrol heard a shout. Now, we have a man with a broken hand in chains, and ye look like ye want more.”
Jack pushed the door to his study open and stepped inside. The smell of smoke flattened under the weight of old books and paper. Jack shut the door, and Duncan shut it again, harder, as if the first attempt had been too gentle with his temper.
“What is going on?” Duncan pressed. “Ye will tell me if there is trouble brewing, will ye nae?”
“Of course,” Jack assured. He stepped behind the desk but did not sit. “There is nay trouble.”
“Nay trouble,” Duncan echoed. “Then what do ye call the man with the broken wrist?”
“A question that needs answers,” Jack said.
Silence fell between them, and nothing could be heard except the sound of the clock ticking somewhere in the cupboard.
Duncan exhaled and ran his palms over his face, a sign of his frustration with his brother. “Ye broke his wrist before askin’ a single question,” he said. “That looks like an answer ye already had.”
“He reached for his weapon when I was questioning him about Emma.”
Duncan’s eyes narrowed. “So, this is about her?”
“I would be very careful as to what I say next to if I were ye,” Jack warned, his eyes flashing.
“So it is about her?” Duncan asked again, stepping closer with his arms folded.
“It is about whoever sent him,” Jack replied.
“So, ye think we are being threatened again?” Duncan set his fists on the desk. “I really, really need ye to say the word, Jack. The last time this happened, we werenae prepared. I need to ken what we are dealing with.”
Jack’s lips thinned. “I will handle it.”
Duncan barked a soft, humorless chuckle. “Ye always say that. Then, ye close every door and call it duty.”
“Leave it,” Jack hissed.
“Ye want me to leave it?” Duncan curled his lip. “Fine, I will leave it. But ghosts dine well on secrets. Make sure the answers daenae bring more of them.”
He straightened and stepped back.
“I will post a man at the stairs,” he said. “For all we ken, this might be a man looking to make quick money. It doesnae have to be like last time, and ye daenae have to worry about anything. Do ye hear me?”
Jack kept his eyes narrowed on his brother but said nothing. After a while, he exhaled and dropped his hands to his sides.
“And ye’re certain about this?” he asked.
“When we have a problem, ye will be the first to ken,” Jack assured, nodding once.
Duncan exhaled and turned around. He opened the door and then turned back once he had crossed the threshold.
“Ye will tell me if the gate isnae enough?” he pressed. “If the wall isnae enough? If ye need more steel?”
“Aye,” Jack said.
Duncan left without waiting for more.
The room fell silent again, and Jack sank into his chair. He braced his hands on his knees and tried to steady his breathing. The fire was so low now that he almost didn’t feel it anymore.
It didn’t matter anyway. There was a more pressing matter that fired him up rather intensely. The matter that continued to play over and over in his mind.
“People were curious about yer bride.”
The words stuck like a splinter under his skin. He lifted his head and looked at the window. His own reflection stared back at him, cut down by the night.
Behind the dark were two faces in his mind: Emma in the lantern light, her chin high because she refused to let fear pick her posture for her, and then Stella, the little girl he was certain would grow to have his traits.
He dragged a hand over his jaw and felt the rawness of his knuckles from where they had met the dirt beside the intruder’s skull. He did not regret his choice. He regretted that it had been necessary within his walls. He regretted that something had happened a bit too close to home.
“Nay one will touch either of ye,” he vowed. “Nae while I draw breath.”
He thought of Emma’s hand in his at the courtyard, the way her fingers had tightened without shame. He thought of her mouth when she told him she was learning to trust.
He did not ask more because he knew that was the point. He would earn the rest, or he would not have it at all.
From the corridor, he could hear the murmur of low voices and the click of boots on the stone floor. Troy was likely giving orders with his back to the door so the guards would not see his face and measure his worry.
Good. That was the work. Keep the edges straight so the men can sleep.
Jack walked to the fireplace and blew out the weak flame. He meant what he had said earlier to Duncan. There was no reason to worry, unless they all absolutely needed to. And by tomorrow, he will get to the root of the matter.