Page 16 of Deception

Richard nodded, then he and the other warrior dragged the man from the room.

Jacob took the three steps to where Linnae stood, grasped her arm, then led her across the room to the stairs.

When they reached the stairs, she said, “Where are we going?”

“To my library.” He urged her up.

She glanced over her shoulder, brows furrowed, then hurried up the stairs. They reached the next floor and he led her up to the next level, then down the hallway to the third door on the right.

He opened the door, and waited until she preceded him, then entered, and closed the door behind him.

She whirled. “What is amiss?”

“I am not certain yet, lass. Start by telling me why the captain of the laird of the Donalds is spending his time at an abbey for homeless girls.”

Startlement flashed in her eyes, and his gut tensed. She was hiding something. She knew Malcolm. Was he wrong about her? Had she been party to the attack? She’d denied it—and he’d believed her—and she seemed genuinely surprised that her driver was a Donald. But just because she wasn’t privy to all the details of the attack, didn’t mean she hadn’t been aware of it.

“I knew Malcolm at Glenwood Abbey, but I wasnae close with him.” She shook her head. “That was two years ago. I havenae seen him since.”

A chill began a slow crawl through his insides. “That doesnae answer my question. What has Dòmhnall’s captain to do with young woman at an abbey?”

“I was never a party to any of his plans.”

Shock reverberated through him.

“He sold me to a very bad man.”

Jacob stared. “Sold ye?”

She nodded. “For three head of cattle.”

Jacob knew such things took place, parents willing to hand their children over for a few coin. But he’d never known anyone who’d been sold.

“The man wasnae honorable,” she said.

“Did he harm ye?” Jacob demanded.

“I ran away before he could.”

Anger whipped through him. “Malcolm doesnae own ye—no one owns you.”

“I agree, but he holds a great deal of sway over many of the lasses there. He is like a father. He brings food and gifts and he’s kinder to us than most people.”

“Nothing in life is free,” Jacob growled. “A man like that wants something. Does he sell all the women there?”

Again, she hesitated, but before he could say more, she said, “Nae. But he uses some of them. Helena can pick locks and steal things. Malcolm was pleased by this, and Gwen…” She shrugged. “Gwen has a way of making everybody like her. She knows how to fight, even better than some men. People tell her things and she knows how to get information. She told me it was her nerve that made her a good spy.”

“Spy?” he blurted. “This is too fantastical. A band of women who are spies, thieves and whores? Impossible.”

“You are naïve if you think women are no’ smart enough to do these things,” she said. “Have ye never read the story of Samson and Delilah? She betrayed Samson to the Philistines. Women can be quite canny.”

Jacob raked a hand through his hair. This day was turning out to be as strange for him as it had been for Linnae. Malcolm McDonald, captain to the Donald laird, had a band of women spying, stealing, cheating and even whoring for him.

“How many women is he using?”

“Not every woman is good for that kind of life. No’ to mention, Malcolm wouldn’t—and couldn’t—trust every woman to do his bidding.”

Jacob regarded her closely. “Who could he trust?”