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“Sir James!” Colin called to him the moment he entered the great hall. “I’ll tell Cook that ye are ready to break yer fast.”
James peered around the hall at the few inhabitants enjoying their morning meal. Davina was not among them.
“Where’s my wife?” James asked when Colin returned with a tray of food.
“Lady Davina is in the bailey. Shall I summon her?”
“Nay. I’m leaving to patrol the southern borders.”
“May I ride with ye today?” Colin asked hopefully. “I promise not to be a bother.”
The lad had blossomed in the weeks since their arrival. No longer timid and sullen, he had proven himself to be an eager, hardworking lad. James fully intended to reward his diligence by making him a squire, but he was waiting until he had the time to devote to training the lad.
“Not today, Colin. But soon,” James promised, ruffling the lad’s hair affectionately. “I shall rely upon ye to watch over my lady while I am gone.”
Still standing, James quickly gulped his oatcakes and washed it down with a tankard of ale. The ale tasted sour and he made a mental note to speak to the brewer later today. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, James quit the great hall.
Just as Colin had told him, James found Davina in the bailey with several of the other women. He puzzled at the piles of ashes, sieves, rags, and large iron pots of boiling liquid, then realized they were making soap. Instead of shouting instructions from a respectable distance as most ladies were wont to do, Davina was in the thick of it, toiling alongside the other women.
Her face was red and glowing from her exertions, yet the sight of her always brought a skip of excitement to James’s heart.I must be completely daft if watching a woman standing over a steaming cauldron of boiling lye leaves me weak-kneed, he thought, shaking his head ruefully.
“I’ll be gone most of the morning,” he called out to Davina.
She turned toward him and lifted her arm, shading her eyes from the sun. “Ye’ll be taking an escort?” Davina asked, lines of worry etched in her brow.
“Aye, four of our best men.”
She nodded with approval and returned to her work. His step was light when he walked to the stables. His horse was saddled and the men he had chosen were mounted and ready. As they rode through the gates, Malcolm waved from the practice field. James saluted his brother, acknowledging the reason he felt confident leaving the keep was because Malcolm would be there to protect it. To protect Davina.
The morning stretched out before him, beckoning James with the promise of sunshine. He rode hard, the four guardsmen at his back. All around him he could see the signs of spring, bursting forth in buds of green. The air was fresh, the sun warm. For the first time since the fire, the scowl on his brow relaxed.
All was quiet, with no signs of trouble. When they reached the jagged outcropping of rocks that marked the southern borders, James reined in his horse. “We’ll give the mounts a cool drink and a bit of a rest before turning back,” he told the guard.
Dismounting, James walked to a small grove of trees, nestled in the valley between two hills. A stream flowed through the middle, the winking rays of the sun reflected through the young, delicate leaves. Pungent heather dotted the hillside. All was peaceful, except for the sound of the rushing water. ’Twas one of the rare spots of the estate that could claim real beauty and James took a moment to savor it.
Throat parched, he knelt at the edge of the stream and scooped up a handful of the cold, clear liquid. He reached for another, but stilled when a glittering flash caught his eye.
My God!
James leaned closer, almost losing his balance and tumbling headfirst into the stream. Heart pounding, he pushed his hand deep into the rocks and stones, clutching as much as he could hold. He raised his hand, letting the water slip through his fingers, then stared in amazement at what remained behind, nestled in his palm.
Have I gone daft? Taken too many blows to the head that my eyes are imaging things?
The shock of his discovery hit him so hard James staggered to his feet. His mind rapidly turned over the events of the past five years. The attack that had broken his relationship with Davina, the isolation her family encouraged her to embrace, the fear of men and taking a husband they had fostered, the subsequent attacks on her—and him—since she left Armstrong Castle and the bosom of her family.
Someone had not wanted her to return to this small estate and her inheritance. It had made little sense—until now. James drew a ragged breath and closed his fist firmly over the evidence he held in his palm.
He finally knew why someone wanted Torridon Keep badly enough to kill for it.
Davina entered the keep with a strong feeling of satisfaction. Her hands were chafed by the cold and hard work, but their hours of toil had produced enough soap to last through the spring. All she need do now was to decide where in the storeroom to keep it.
She moved through the great hall, down to the kitchen. A small fire was banked in the hearth, but the room was empty. Cook was obviously attending to other duties, but would likely return soon.
Davina easily found her way into the storeroom, pleased to note the shelves were stocked with a wide variety of food. In addition to several barrels of salted fish and meat, a fresh haunch of venison hung from a large beam in the coldest part of the cellar, the remaining bounty from yesterday’s hunt.
As Davina looked about the room, a glimmer of memory invaded. Back to a time when she’d been a little girl, probably no older than Lileas. It had been a dreary, rainy day and she and several other children were playing a favorite game of hide and seek.
Davina had been daring that day, going into the forbidden storeroom to hide, when her father suddenly appeared. Worried that she would be scolded for disobeying, she sunk behind a barrel of oats. Holding her breath, she waited for what seemed like a very long time. Fearing she was missing all the fun, she had timidly poked her head around the barrel and witnessed an amazing sight.
