Highland Protector Read online

  “And that was?” he asked when she fell silent.

  “David wondered how Walter could claim he was making no sacrifice when anyone accused of murdering a king’s mon didnae live long. I thought it was Walter who would be sacrificing himself but soon realized that I was a fool to think that. He planned to use me as his sacrificial lamb. He also said he planned to rescue me, that I would certainly have to flee Scotland then, and he had a wee house in France where he planned to keep me.”

  Simon could see that it pained her to tell him that and he wondered just how much she had cared for Hepbourn.

  Ilsabeth took a deep breath in an attempt to push aside her growing anger. “David was appalled because he thought Walter still intended to marry me. Walter made it verra clear that he had ne’er intended to marry me, that I was beneath him, and that he would ne’er sully his fine bloodline with an Armstrong. He just didnae wish for me to die until he had me and was weary of me.

  “The whole betrothal was naught but part of his plan. He wanted to get close to my family so that he could learn enough about them to ken how he could place blame and all suspicion on them. The mon wants rid of my whole clan. He e’en thinks that he may be able to get some of our land if he steps right and gets close to the king. Or mayhap once the king is gone, he feels the new men in power will reward him with it.” She frowned. “I think he kenned we wouldnae just cry innocent and be taken for he saw the chance that the king’s men would be verra busy trying to gather us all up. That would allow him to do as he plans for they wouldnae have the time to look anywhere else.”

  “Did he say exactly what his plan was?”

  “Nay. David spoke of ridding themselves of that foolish king, his sycophants, and all those who led him where they wished him to go. Neither mon wants any suspicion turning their way. I can only think that Walter wants my kin hunted down and hanged ere he does whate’er he now plots to do, thus giving him the chance to grab our lands. Although he did think that the new king might weel gift him with them. They went inside after that.”

  “And ye ne’er tried to find out more?”

  “I didnae have the time. Walter spoke of needing to plan his next step most carefully and of wanting to be weel rested so that he could have the pleasure of watching my family rounded up and taken away in chains. I ran for home, thinking to warn them of his plots, but my cousin Humfrey caught up with me. He told me it was already too late, that my own dagger had been in the heart of a king’s mon, and that soldiers were already pounding at the gates of Aigballa. My family gave him what I needed to travel and sent him after me to tell me to come here.” She shook her head. “And to think I thought Walter’s only real fault was that he was vain.”

  “Ye betrothed yourself to a mon ye thought was vain?”

  “He had some cause to be so and his mother spoiled him.” She pulled the letter from her father out of her pocket where she had hidden it and handed it to him. “It doesnae say much save that my father suspects Walter and that I am to come to you and seek help. So, are ye going to help me? Or, do ye send me to the king?”

  Simon did not answer her for a moment, taking the time to read the short message from her father instead. There was little to be found in the words Sir Cormac had written to help Simon make any judgment. The man simply thought to aid his daughter. The only thing that weighed in the favor of the Armstrongs was that they knew his reputation, therefore, sending Ilsabeth to him implied that they believed the truth would free them and reveal their innocence. The cynical part of Simon wondered if they hoped he would think exactly that and thus believe them cruelly wronged.

  “Nay, I willnae send ye to the king now,” Simon said as he handed her back her father’s message.

  “Howbeit, ye will be closely watched and ye had best nay leave this house.”

  Ilsabeth swallowed the angry words she ached to spit out at him. She told herself that he did not know her and he had every right to need proof of her innocence before he believed in her. She was marked a traitor and a murderer. Such crimes put anyone who helped her in danger. It had been foolish to think that her word on all that had happened would be enough. Ilsabeth welcomed the return of the children for it kept her from saying something that could push away the only man who could keep her from the brutal death handed out to traitors.

  Bega worked fast and efficiently, she thought, as Elen and Reid hurried to her side. They were both clean and dressed in simple, well-made clothes. Even though Reid’s hair was still wet, Ilsabeth could now see that he had dark red hair. She served them both some of the food and drink and decided they were handsome children. All she could do was care for them as long as she was able and pray that Simon would see them into the care of her family if she did not get free of Walter’s plots. Ilsabeth refused to even think of the possibility that her whole family might well be caught in Walter’s trap.

  A tap on her shoulder drew her attention away from the children. Ilsabeth looked up at Sir Simon, who now stood at her side. A quick glance around revealed that the two servants had left. He nodded toward the window and then walked toward it. After seeing that the children were well occupied with the food, she went to join the man.

  “Whose children are they?” Simon asked.

  “Mine,” she replied, knowing that some of her

  stubborn determination to keep Elen and Reid could be heard in her voice.

  Simon almost smiled. Ilsabeth looked stubborn enough to fight him for the right to keep the two children. The fact that she was caring for and protecting two foundlings did a lot to make him favor her tale of betrayal, but he did not say so. He just quirked one brow at her, silently demanding her to tell him the truth.

  Ilsabeth sighed, recognizing that look on his face. She had seen it on the men in her family too often. The man would stand there like a rock until she told him the truth. As quickly and quietly as she could, she told Simon all Reid had told her. The flash of anger in his eyes left her thinking that he might not be quite as cold as rumor said he was. He did not care for how the children had been treated.

  “ ‘Tis a poor time for ye to indulge in such charity,” he said.

  “That may be, but it willnae stop me.”

  “And what if ye arenae able to free yourself and prove your innocence?”

  It was not easy to shrug aside the part of her that was angered by the implication that she might actually be guilty of the crime she was accused of, but Ilsabeth did it. He had said he would search out the truth and that was all they had asked of him. She had to believe that he would be able to prove her innocent and save her and her family. Then she would be able to save Elen and Reid.

  “I am nay such a fool that I think this will all be untangled and in my favor quickly or easily. That is nay a good reason to leave two bairns to starve, however. If I am unable to keep them and care for

  them, I have a verra large family that will fulfill my promise to them. All I will ask of ye is, if I am unable to get them to my family, ye will do so for me.”

  He nodded as he led her back to the children. “Ye will stay here and I will go to court on the morrow to see what news there is. Dinnae think ye can slip away. MacBean may look and sound like a bad-tempered fool, but he will prove to be a verra efficient guard if ye try to test him.”

  “I will stay here, Sir Innes. This is where my father sent me because he believed ye could help me. Nay, just me, either, but my whole family. I willnae do anything to make their suffering continue any longer than it must to catch the ones who use us to hide their own crimes. Now, will ye swear to take the bairns to my family if I am unable to do so?”

  “Aye.”

  Ilsabeth nodded and turned her attention to the children. She could feel Simon watching her. Even the huge dog he had and a rather ugly cat sprawled before the fire watched her and the children closely. By the time Old Bega returned, Ilsabeth was more than ready to seek a bed just to get away from that scrutiny.

  The way Old Bega cooed and fussed over the childre
n eased some of Ilsabeth’s fear for them. She might not be all that certain of what Sir Simon would do if she was taken away, despite the vow he had just made, but the woman would never let any harm come to Elen and Reid. The moment the children were settled in two small beds, Old Bega led Ilsabeth to the bedchamber right next to them. It soothed Ilsabeth to know that they would be close to her in the night.

  “Ye dinnae need to fret o’er the bairns,” said Old Bega as she readied the bed for Ilsabeth, turning down the heavy blankets to reveal some very fine linen sheets. “I dinnae ken what trouble ye are in, but ye can shake aside any fear for them. Ye are nay a nun so where did ye get the clothes? Ye didnae rob a nunnery, did ye?”

  “Nay, my sister is a nun and we got them from her,” replied Ilsabeth, as, with Old Bega’s help, she unpacked the few belongings she had. “Has Goliath been seen to?”

  “Goliath? The wee pony?” Old Bega laughed when Ilsabeth nodded. “Aye, tucked up warm in the stable.”

  “Good. He served me weel.”

  “Ye rest, lass. Sir Simon will solve this trouble for ye.”

  Ilsabeth just smiled and then, as soon as the woman left, began to shed her clothes and wash up before getting into the bed her body ached for. The moment she curled up under the covers, she sighed with relief and closed her eyes. Her mind was full of worry and fear for the fate of her family, but she forced those concerns away. Sleep was needed for a sharp mind and a strong body. She would be in need of both in the days to come.

  Sir Simon Innes’s face appeared behind her eyelids and she nearly cursed. He drew her to him despite his distrust and his apparent coldness. If anyone had ever asked her what she sought in a man, nothing she would have replied would have matched that man. Yet, despite all that was wrong with him, her heart and her body kept saying they wanted him for their own. That was something she would have to fight. The man might free her of the nightmare she was caught up in, but he could also lead her to the gallows. It would be a mistake of the greatest kind to allow the man to get into her heart or her blood. Matters were bad enough as it was without becoming attached to a man who just might be the one putting a rope around her neck.

  “Ye cannae think that lass is a traitor and a killer,” said MacBean after Simon told him why the woman now sleeping upstairs had come to him.

  “Dinnae tell me ye think women incapable of such things,” drawled Simon, and sighed when the cat leapt up on his lap the moment he sat down before the fire.

  “Nay, they can be as vicious and devious as any mon. But that wee lass? Nay, I cannae believe it.”

  “Why? Because she has sweet innocence on her face? Or big blue eyes?”

  “Nay. Because she has taken in two bairns nay her own despite running for her life. And that is what she is doing, isnae it? Running for her life?”

  “Aye. As is her whole family, the Armstrongs of Aigballa. Soon many of the Murrays may have to do the same.”

  “Ah.” MacBean crossed his arms over his thin chest and nodded.

  “What do ye mean–ah?”

  “Ye will sort this out for the Murrays, aye? Nay matter what ye think of that wee lass, ye will work hard to make sure she is innocent or, at least, that the Murrays dinnae suffer for her crimes. Still dinnae think she did what they say she did.”

  “Her dagger in Sir Ian Ogilvie’s heart says different.”

  “And ye ken as weel as I that it doesnae mean she put it there.”

  Simon rested his head against the back of the chair and sighed. “I do ken that. I also ken that I have naught but her word on who is responsible. ‘Tis nay my way to accept nay more than a person’s word on their innocence.”

  “It isnae? Thought ye did just that with both them Murray lads. Ye willnae do it for her because she is a bonnie lass and dinnae try to tell me otherwise. It has been ten years, lad. Bury the past.”

  Simon watched MacBean walk out of the room and softly cursed. The trouble with servants who had been with a man for most of his life was that they knew most of his secrets. The man’s insight was also irritating. Simon would rather cut out his own tongue with a dull blade than admit it, but MacBean was right. One reason he hesitated to take Ilsabeth Murray Armstrong at her word was because she was a bonnie lass.

  Memories swarmed into his mind and sweat dotted his brow as he fought them. He had been a fool at eighteen, a fool who had thought himself a grown man and one who knew all about women just because he had bedded a few. Sweet-faced Mary with her tempting body and tears had led him along by the nose. His brutal brother’s third wife, she had been only a few years older than Simon, but she had been many years older in guile and experience. She had even been able to draw him close to the home he had left at the age of ten swearing he would never go back.

  Guilt over what he had done could still bring a sour taste into his mouth even though he knew he had not hurt his harsh brother’s feelings. His pride, surely, but Henry Innes had not loved Mary any more than he had loved his other two wives. What troubled Simon was that he had not seen the lies, the manipulation, the betrayal. Neither Mary’s nor Henry’s. He had not seen the truth. He knew that was why he sought it so avidly now.

  Seeking the truth back then had only added to his pain, but that had not turned him away from it. Simon stared into his goblet at the dregs of his wine and sighed. He had accepted the beating and the scars it left as his due for breaking one of God’s laws. What he could never accept was that he had given his heart and sympathy to a woman who had deserved neither, and worried, for a brief naïve time, about a brother who had no love or respect for him. No brother should have used his kin as Henry had used him.

  He shook away the memory of that time and turned his thoughts to Ilsabeth Murray Armstrong. It annoyed him that his body hardened when her image appeared in his mind. He was going to have to be very careful about that. Simon wanted to blame the sudden, fierce attraction he felt for her on the fact that he had not had a woman for a long time, but he knew that was a lie. It was something about her, the way she stood firm before his stare, a stare that had made even grown men quiver with fear. Her glorious hair and her beautiful eyes drew him like a wasp to honey. She was dangerous.

  Then again, could he resist if she tried to seduce him to influence his decision on her innocence orguilt? Probably not, he decided, but he would still seek the truth. He would just find a little enjoyment and pleasure as he did so. Simon felt certain that, although his body might succumb, nothing she could do would change him from his course. It could be that giving in to his lust for her could clear his mind enough so that she could no longer cloud it with her scent and her husky voice. It was something to consider.

  Simon nudged the cat off his lap, stood up and stretched. He would be spending a lot of time in court over the next few days and it was best if he got some sleep. A man needed a sharp mind to weave his way safely through all the intrigues, lies, and betrayals that went on in the king’s court. It was good to have another puzzle to solve, he mused as he strode off to his bedchamber, Bonegnasher and the cat at his heels.

  It was not until he was settled into his bed that he realized there was another more subtle reason that he was eager to get started ferreting out the truth. A part of him wanted to prove that Ilsabeth Murray Armstrong was innocent. Worse, to his way of thinking, it was not simply his thirst for justice that made him eager. It was a pair of bright blue eyes and a soft, husky voice that acted like a caress on his skin every time she spoke. Simon cursed. Ilsabeth was definitely trouble and not just because she was caught up in plots, murder, and treason.

  Chapter 4

  Sir Walter Hepbourn was the type of man most women found very pleasing. Shining fair hair, a flirtatious smile revealing good teeth, and a well-muscled form dressed in the finest court clothing. Simon wondered why all of that irritated him so much. If what Ilsabeth told him was true, it was very daring of the man to come to court so soon after committing the murder of the king’s cousin and throwing around false accusations. He mu
st have left not long after Ilsabeth had. It would have been wiser to stay close to his home until the suspicions against the Armstrongs had hardened.

  Simon nearly grimaced in disgust over the way the man played the stunned, embarrassed, and heart-bruised betrothed who had been betrayed and used by his love. It was all an act. Simon was certain of it. Unfortunately, his certainty did not mean the man was guilty of all Ilsabeth said he was. It just meant that Sir Walter knew how to play with the sympathies of the courtiers who clung to the king’s court in the hope of some favor.

  One other thing that Simon was now certain of was that Sir Walter Hepbourn thought himself far and above any Armstrong. The man’s distaste for that clan wove around and through every word he spoke. After two days of watching the man, however, that was the only suspicious thing Simon had discovered. Why, if Hepbourn so utterly despised the Armstrongs, had the man betrothed himself to one of the clan’s daughters? Ilsabeth’s explanation was the only one that made sense, but he would not accept that as fact just yet.

  It was another puzzle, however. The more Simon sought out the truth, one he now confessed to himself he was eager to find so that his attraction to Ilsabeth was no longer a danger to himself, the more puzzles he came across. He did not find it all that difficult to believe that Hepbourn would do all Ilsabeth said he had and Simon knew that was one small step toward uncovering the truth needed to prove she was innocent.

  “Psst! Simon! O’er here.”

  As covertly as he was able, Simon moved toward the shadowed alcove that sibilant command had come from. He had the strong feeling that not all the Murrays had disappeared from court. Either that or they had sent a friend and ally few in the court would associate with their clan or the Armstrongs. Yet the man had called him Simon, an informality that implied a close relationship. Once within the alcove, Simon studied the man who had called to him. Even in the deep shadows he could see enough to know who faced him now.