Page 27 of Much Ado About a Scot

Rhys offered a wry smile. “I figured as much.”

“Will you continue on to Haddington without me? Not only will you need to ask the villagers how often Atholl, Montrose, and Gowrie come calling, but also check at the tolbooth for any legal papers concerning Gladmuir Hall and its owners.”

“I’ll go.” Rhys mounted his horse, Drago. “Is there anything else?”

“Now that you mention it, can you also hire six more servants for tonight? We’ll need three females to cook and three males to help serve at the banquet.”

“That’s going to cost you.”

“I do not care about the funds.” His service to the king over the years had gained him a fortune he could never spend in his lifetime. Xander shifted closer to the door, eager to determine if Isobel was in danger from some unknown tunnel under her estate or not.

Rhys shook his head before a smile pulled up the corners of Rhys’s mouth. “There was a time when we were brothers-in-arms, equals. And now clearly, I take all my orders from you.”

“What are you smiling about? This is serious business.”

“What is there not to smile about? The harvest is done. It’s a bright, clear morning, I’ve had a restful sleep, and now I’m on my way to do your bidding.” Rhys narrowed his gaze. “You should not be churlish because, despite your lack of sleep, I’m certain you had other compensations I did not enjoy.”

He quickly removed the saddle from Arion and then led Drago and Rhys out of the barn. “Be gone. You’re wasting time.”

“Be careful when you follow whoever went into the well.”

“I’m prepared for whatever I might find.” Xander thumped Drago’s rear, sending the beast into motion. As Rhys headed for the road, Xander made his away along the treeline to the well. He checked his surroundings and, finding them clear, made his way to the stone structure. Inside, a heavy round stone covered the top of the well, but a series of ropes were attached to a robust pulley system, that others might have assumed was the crank and rope that lifted a bucket from the water below.

Xander cranked the stone out of the way and peered into the gaping darkness a moment before he noticed a ladder attached to the side of the stone. Wasting no more time, he shifted over the side of the well and made his way below, leaving the stone entrance open for a quick escape should he have need of such.

*

Isobel’s eyes fluttered open as reality seeped slowly into her mind. The comforting warmth that had been her companion all night long was no longer there. At the thought of what she and Xander had done to each other last night, warmth flooded her cheeks. She drew in a cleansing breath and tried to shift her thought in a different direction. If she started replaying each heated caress and every sensation he’d brought forth in her, she’d lie there thinking for hours.

And they had guests coming to supper.

She sat up and, after a quick morning ablution, reached for her clothing. Xander was no doubt belowstairs already, preparing for the day ahead. She tied her hair in a knot at her nape, then hurried down the stairs to join him. Voices came from the kitchen as she hurried toward the sound, eager to see not only her son, but also Xander among those gathered.

But only Freya and Brodie were there.

Isobel tried to keep her disappointment to herself as she greeted, “Good morning.”

“Mornin’, Mistress.” Freya turned from the fire. A look of triumph replaced her usually stoic countenance. “The master has gone tae the village tae hire me more help fer tonight. Isn’t that kind of him?”

“Very kind.” Isobel moved more fully into the room and toward the table filled with wooden crates overflowing with chicken, gammon, salmon, herring, pears and apples, leeks and cabbage, nuts, rounds of cheese, smaller bowls with crystals of salt and sugar, and a peacock. A boar roasted on a spit over the open flames in the hearth.

Xander had purchased all of this for their celebration tonight. Never in her lifetime had she witnessed such a bounty. It must have cost him a fortune. And what would it eventually cost her? If not funds, it would come with a price of some sort, she had no doubt.

Excitement mixed with fear. The heady combination moved through her and caused her to catch the back of a chair near her, steadying herself. “This is a feast fit for a royal celebration. We have no great hall and nowhere else large enough to serve such a feast as this for so many people.”

Freya brought her hands up in supplication. “That’s fer ye to figure out while Brodie and I cook.”

Daunted by her new task, Isobel nodded, then looked around the kitchen again. “Freya, where’s Jamie?”

“Jamie?” A frown slid across the cook’s face. “Spéartha maith! We’ve been so busy. The lad was here only moments ago.”

“I think he went out the back door.” Brodie looked up from his task of turning the meat in the hearth. “At least I heard the door open then close.”

A chill swept Isobel’s spine. This wasn’t the first time Jamie had wandered off on his own, but deep inside she knew this time was different. Her son was in danger.

Isobel raced out the back door. Her heart pounded, thudded in her ears. “Jamie!”

Chapter Eleven