Page 16 of A Scoundrel’s Promise

Perhaps it was time to find a willing milkmaid in need of a man. He broke from his reverie, glanced at the darkening sky and grimaced. It would be just his luck to get a good drenching before he reached home, but then, a cold dousing might be exactly what he needed. Wind whipped his hair as he kicked his horse into a gallop.

Minutes later, the spire of Blackstone Abbey came into view just beyond the trees. Unexpected warmth rippled through him. If anyone had told him a year ago that he’d ever call anywhere home again, he would have named that person a fool. The oddity of such a place being an abbey was somehow fitting. He’d thought to find solace, peace…and solitude. Certainly not a wife. After all, how could he afford one?

A drop of rain landed on his nose, portending greater things to come. With another kick, he urged his horse faster and, minutes later, rode through the abbey gates. Once inside the courtyard, he slowed his horse to a walk and dismounted once in the stables.

“Good afternoon, laird,” the stable lad, Gavin, greeted as he dropped from the hay loft.

“The same to you, lad.” He handed Gavin the reins.

Liam stretched. Then, as the lad led the horse away, he spied the corner of his sketchpad peeping from the saddlebag.

“By God,” he cursed.

The boy froze and glanced back. “Is something wrong, laird?”

Liam scowled, covered the distance that separated them in three long strides and grabbed the sketchbook.

“Nae,” he told the boy. Nothing was wrong except that he’d been so distracted by Lady Mackenzie that he’d forgotten to deliver the drawings to Lord Dunn.

Irritated, he left the stables and headed for the abbey proper. As he strode down the arcade walkway, he caught sight of Rhys standing at the second-floor dormitory window on the west side of the grounds.

Liam slowed. Would ever a day pass where the dark memories of the past didn’t haunt them? Liam had seen too many grim things. What soldier hadn’t? But Rhys had seen the unthinkable: the destruction of the men under his command. Ewan had found some peace through the love of a good woman, and Liam, at least a smidgeon from his sketches, but for Rhys? Was any measure of peace even possible?

With a shudder, Liam shoved open the door of the oblong-shaped chapter house and descended the dozen stairs to the main floor. Although, he’d never admit the truth to his brother, the chapter house had become his favorite place in the abbey since Kyla had given the abbey a woman’s touch. She’d furnished the room with several card tables, chairs, a divan, and a pianoforte. Even without the low fire that often burned in the hearth, they gathered here in the evenings to hear her play.

Liam stalked toward his favorite chair. There was something to be said about having a woman around—a woman, not a flirtatious girl who had no idea how to deal with a real man. Halfway across the room, he became aware of a murmur of voices. Curious, he detoured through the archway and down another hall to one of the abbey’s many entrances. There, near the door, stood Ewan and—God help him—Mister Pettigrew.

Liam stared. How had Pettigrew managed to speak with Lord Dunn’s man and get here so quickly? Even more, did Dunn know Pettigrew had ridden to the abbey? Had he sent him? Liam strode forward.

“You’re saying you know nothing concerning the matter of MacAlpin’s missing cow?” Mister Pettigrew asked.

“Nae,” Ewan replied curtly. “I have already told you.”

Mister Pettigrew flushed as Liam stopped beside his bother.

“And I care not that the tracks led you this way,” Ewan continued, his voice calm yet cold. With an air of finality, he added, “Unless you can show me where they lead through our gates, we are finished.”

Mister Pettigrew shot Liam a pleading look. The audacity of the man. Did he really expect Liam to help?

“Did Dunn send you?” Liam asked.

The little man squirmed. “His lordship put me in charge of investigating his cattle, to assure they weren’t gone a missing. Missing cattle are missing cattle.”

Liam snorted. “As you know, I just came from Newborne. The viscount gave no indication he believed Blackstone to be involved. When you spoke to Mack, did you discover any cattle missing?”

“Well, no.” Pettigrew fidgeted. “But that is of no consequence in as serious a matter as this.”

“Then I suggest you speak with the constable,” Liam cut him short. “It is his duty—and his alone—to find the thieves.”

“The nearest constable is five miles away,” Mister Pettigrew protested.

“A mere half hour ride,” Ewan said. “You had best hurry if you want to reach him before dark.”

Pettigrew scowled, but still asked, “None of your cattle are missing, I imagine?”

Locking his gaze on Pettigrew, Liam addressed his brother, “Ewan, I think Mister Pettigrew is implying since our cattle haven’t been stolen, we are the thieves.”

“Nae,” Ewan replied evenly. “For such accusations would demand a challenge.”