Page 53 of Highland Spy

“My lady?” Ariana said with feigned confusion. The room squeezed in close around her and her muscles tensed. She had known it was foolish to come out alone—she knew better, and now she paid the price.

“You serve patrons, at a tavern not your own.” Isabel drank from her cup, but did not break her cool gaze from where she held Ariana’s captive.

“I’ve little money and no other trade to ply.” Though Ariana only played a role, her cheeks went hot. She knew too well the position of having little coin and no skills to gain more. Nothing save cheating.

Several men rose from the table and half carried another man out. His head, dark with greasy hair, hung between his shoulders, obviously ill from too much drink.

Both women watched their shuffling departure before Isabel flicked a finger toward Ariana’s hands.

“Your nails are very well kept for a wench,” Isabel said. “It’s why I insisted you get my wine.”

Ariana looked at where her hands rested on the table, her nails were trimmed low and clean. An oversight to her costume. “The tavern where I usually work is far more fastidious, my lady.”

She inwardly winced and immediately knew she’d slipped on her reply.

“Fastidious.” Isabel’s lip curved into a smile. “You’ve quite a grand knowledge of words.”

Before Ariana could flutter out a reply, Isabel continued. “And your posture is immaculate, as is your clean hair and skin, despite all that rouge and kohl you’ve applied. Your husband may have been from the north, if you ever had a husband, but the London dialect glaring through your Scots would suggest you are not.”

The world around Ariana wavered. She glanced to where Murdoch had been and found him missing. He could offer her no assistance.

No words tumbled into her mind. There was nothing to say when everything the woman spoke was the truth.

For the second time in her clandestine endeavors, Ariana had been caught.

• • •

Connor latched the stable door and headed for the keep. The nearby town he’d gone to had proved a waste of time.

Urgency crept over his shoulders, tight and clawing.

Every day that passed was another Cora might be in danger, and there were no nunneries he found acceptable. Either they were too short of coin to even feed their cloister, or too heavy of it and cast a grand shadow on the landscape all were sure to notice.

Bringing her to Kindrochit was out of the question. Cora would be too eager to join the other ladies, and he could not have her doing so. He could not put her at risk as he already was forced to do with the women he trained.

MacAlister wanted Cora for something, and Connor didn’t like it. The sooner the man was dead, the better all this would be.

Connor pushed through the heavy castle door with all the force of his frustration. It swung as though it were a thin sheet rather than heavy hewn wood, and slammed against the stone wall with an audible bang.

Percy regarded him from the stairs, a small tray set atop her splayed hand. “Windy night?” she asked, offering a polite excuse he did not deserve.

Her sweet countenance eased the raging torment in his mind and replaced it with the weight of guilt.

Not only for his poor display of frustration, but for the lie she so obviously knew he’d told.

She wouldn’t ask, he knew, but that did not assuage his self-placed guilt.

He turned and closed the door behind him, more quietly this time. She knew. He might as well be truthful with her. “I dinna find anything.” His voice was gravelly from a night breathing in the thick black smoke from the tallow candles.

Percy descended the stairs and gave him an encouraging smile. “Perhaps tomorrow?”

He nodded and tried not to let her see his resignation. MacAlister was not a man to stay still.

“Liv is feeling better.” Percy’s voice was hopeful and light. “Please tell Ariana when she gets in from stabling her horse.”

Connor furrowed his brow at Percy. “Ariana isna stabling her horse.”

“You went alone?” Accusation burned bright in her gaze for a quick moment before she turned her head to the side, as if doing so could keep him from having seen the flash of anger.