Page 79 of Conquer the Highlander

Conan was in full agreement. He was still astonished by what he’d seen, but he’d swear on his life that he had, in fact, seen Esme. He’d known the woman for years, an heiress who would give him a sizable chunk of Navarre.

That was all she was worth to him.

And he wanted her back… no matter what.

“My lord?” It was Axel. “Are you awake?”

Clegg had just laid down on his massive, elaborate bed that was made to look like a Roman barge. It was an enormous piece of furniture that had to be assembled inside the chamber because it was so big and elaborate. Curtains of pale gossamer fabric hung from the ceiling, surrounding the bed, making it look like something surreal, from another time. It could have easily accommodated five men had Clegg not kept it so piled up with pillows, because with all of those lumps of fabric, it could only accommodate one man.

And that was all Clegg had ever intended.

Hearing Axel’s voice, he opened his eyes and grunted.

“What is it?”

Axel came into the chamber, going for the table where the candles were located that Clegg had so recently blown out. Using a flint, he relit them.

“We have a problem,” he said quietly. “The Duke of Ayr is in your solar, demanding to speak with you.”

That wasn’t something Clegg wanted to hear, not at this hour. Not at any hour. He sat up, running his fingers through his long, silver hair.

“Great Gods,” he muttered. “What now? I thought I gave orders to escort him and his son from The Cal.”

“He and his son have seen Esme.”

Suddenly, Clegg wasn’t so sleepy. He pushed the curtains back, looking at Axel with some trepidation in his expression.

“What?” he hissed. “How did this happen?”

“I do not know.”

“Does Titus know?”

Axel shook his head. “I do not believe so,” he said. “But I do not know for certain. The duke is demanding to speak to you about Esme. He says that she is his son’s betrothed and must therefore be returned immediately. I fear he can make trouble for you, my lord.”

Clegg was clad in a sleeping tunic, a heavy thing made from the finest lamb’s wool. He went to his wardrobe and grabbed the first robe he came to, a massive creation made from silk and fur that cost more than some men made in a lifetime of work.

“He cannot truly make trouble for me, but he can cause a stir,” Clegg said as he pulled the robe on and secured it. “The man is a bully and a buffoon, a nasty combination. I saw that earlier today. You shall be with me when I speak to him, but summon my Praetorian first. I intend to order Ayr and his son away from The Cal, and I suspect they will not go willingly. What I want to know is how they even saw her. Titus assured us that she was remaining out of sight.”

Axel shook his head. “I do not know, my lord,” he said. “They did not say how they saw her, only that they did. I will summon your guard immediately.”

Clegg simply nodded, running his fingers through his hair again to slick it off his face as he descended to the floor below where his elaborate solar was located. As Axel disappeared into the shadows to summon Clegg’s private soldiers, men he called his Praetorian Guard whose sole responsibility was protecting him and his keep, Clegg entered his solar.

The duke was standing at Clegg’s table, rifling through the pile of vellum on it, while his son was drinking Clegg’s very expensive Italian wine.

That behavior set the tone for Clegg’s mood.

It wasn’t good.

Incensed, he walked up to his table and yanked all of the vellum that Ambrose was inspecting onto the floor. When Ambrose looked up at him, startled, Clegg’s silver eyes were blazing.

“Unless you want me to enter your private room and look through all of your papers, I suggest you immediately step away from my table and find a chair to sit upon,” he said. Then, he looked over at Conan, with the wine glass halfway to his lips. “Put that down, boy. You were not invited to partake of my refreshments.”

Clegg’s tone was nothing to be trifled with. Conan immediately set the wine down, but Ambrose, who had moved away from the table but had not found a chair, spoke up.

“Ye have a woman here that belongs tae us,” he said angrily. “Esme de Gracia. I saw her in the encampment of cottages and I want her returned immediately.”

Clegg was not impressed nor moved by the request. “The warrior’s encampment is forbidden to guests,” he said. “You were where you should not have been.”