All The Time You Need (12 page)

“Aye, we did at that,” Jamesy acknowledged. “But ignoring it does not make it go away any more than ignoring yer enemy makes him disappear. We ken all too well after what we experienced at Tordenet that many a beastie which goes bump in the night is no’ of our Mortal world, aye?”

“We’ve had our say,” Finn said, swinging his head in Alex’s direction. “But yer the laird here. It’s yer say that counts. What say you, Alex?”

What did he have to say?

That he didn’t want the decision to be his. That he wanted his father, a man with decades of wisdom and experience, to be the one guiding their actions. That he couldn’t always think straight when Annie turned that dark-blue stare in his direction. Or when she was close to him as she had been when she’d shared his horse and the scent of fresh flowers floating off her hair had driven him almost as wild as had the feel of her back against his chest.

He had plenty to say, but none of it was that which needed to be heard.

Finn was right. As laird in his father’s stead, the decision was his and nothing that he wanted to say mattered. Only what he needed to say.

“I can see no legitimate reason to doubt her word.” He sighed then, knowing that legitimate reasons were only a part of what a good laird considered. “But with the safety of my clan at stake, I’d have more proof to go on. I’m going to send out a rider to the Gordons, requesting they send a representative to speak with me on this matter. I’d have them tell me to my face what they plot behind my back.”

Finn nodded his approval while Jamesy shrugged.

“And what will we do should we come across the one who locked yer fair guest in the arbor?” Jamesy asked.

Of all the outcomes Alex might hope for, that was at the top of his list.

“Perhaps we take him out to the arbor where he abandoned the lass, just the three of us and him, and teach the bastard what it’s like to be overpowered.”

Just the thought brought a smile of satisfaction to his lips.

“Agreed,” his friends said in unison.

“I’d recommend the time has come to put guards on the wall, as well,” Finn said. “To keep watch after the rider goes out.”

Alex nodded his agreement. “It’s settled, then.”

All except what to do with their lovely guest until they could find proof of the truth about where she’d come from and why she was here.

No doubt about it, finding Analise Shaw imprisoned on their lands had changed the stakes in their rivalry with Clan Gordon.

Chapter 7

With one of his best men on his way bearing a message to the laird of Clan Gordon, Alex ordered the portcullis lowered before heading back to the keep. Crossing the bailey, Jamesy and Finn caught up with him and, for a few brief moments, a sense of peace and calm settled over him as they approached the keep.

Brief, because he knew the time had come to confront a worry hanging heavy on his heart for the past weeks since his return to Castle Dunellen. The time had come for him to confront their future together.

“I’ve a need to speak to the both of you. I’ve considered how best to tell you what I must, and I’ve found no good way other than to speak the words.” He’d broached it now. With both his friends waiting for him to continue, there was no way to avoid the subject any longer. “It’s clear to me now that I’ll not be able to leave Dunellen anytime soon. We had big plans for where we were to go and what we were to do together. My inability to carry on shouldn’t change yer lives. I’d only ask that you give a consideration to lending a hand here until the current troubles are contained. But I want you both to know, no matter which way you decide, I’ll understand and I’ll no’ hold it against you.”

There. He’d said his piece and it was done. Whatever Jamesy and Finn chose to do now, he, at least, wouldn’t have to feel guilt over holding them up nor dread over the possibility of risking their friendship.

Finn reached down to absently stroke the head of his big dog, a half-smile lifting one corner of his mouth. “I only thought to fight the English to protect Scotland and her people. The people here seem to need protecting as much as any others I’ve come across. The enemy may be different, but one battle is no different from any other. I’m content to fight at yer side and empty yer larder until you’ve no more need of me and wish to send me on my way.”

“I feel exactly the same way,” said Jamesy. “At least here I fight shoulder to shoulder with friends I can trust at my back.”

“You have my thanks,” Alex said, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. He hadn’t realized how much he’d stressed over what their decisions might be until he heard their answers. It was good to have men at his side he could trust.

He might even have allowed himself to think that his streak of troubles was fading, if not for the sounds of raised voices as they entered the keep. Through the open doors of the great hall, the sounds of a pitched argument reached his ears.

Perhaps not an argument, he decided as he hurried forward, since it was clear as he drew closer that there was only one voice raised in anger.

In the great hall, Alex’s brother Morgan hovered over the man he’d brought to the castle to heal their father, obviously doing his best to appease the healer.

“Please, Master Montague, pray calm yerself and take yer seat.” Morgan looked up at Alex’s entrance, and an expression of sheer relief passed over his face. “Here’s Alex now. I’m sure he can sort out all of this to yer satisfaction.”

“No!” Montague insisted, jerking his shoulder from Morgan’s gentle grip and pointing a finger across the table in a dramatic gesture. “I insist that you send her away. I will not take my meal with that woman in the room.”

Alex hadn’t formed a particularly positive impression of Montague on any of their brief meetings. And now, as he followed the direction of the man’s accusation, he realized that the
she
in question was their new guest, Annie. For her part, Annie completely ignored Montague, lifting her cup to her lips to drink as if he weren’t carrying-on like a madman within feet of where she sat. Only the glare she briefly cast in his direction gave any indication that she even acknowledged his presence in the room.

“What’s going on here?” Alex asked, aware that all eyes, all except Annie’s, that is, were turned in his direction, waiting for him to take charge.

“That woman attacked me,” Montague accused. “I canna be expected to break bread at the same table with the likes of her.”

“Attacked you,” Alex said, making his way to his own chair and sitting down. “Let me make sure I understand what it is yer saying, Master Montague. Yer telling me that this mere woman, barely out of a sickbed her own self, physically overpowered you and now you want her sent from my table so that you might take yer meal in peace. Do I have the right of it?”

“Aye,” Montague said, though his tone seemed less sure now, as if he had an inkling of where Alex’s conversation might be headed.

“You’d have her sent away because…why exactly is that, Master Montague? Do you fear she’ll attack you here at my table?” Alex turned his hardest glare on the man, waiting as the object of his scrutiny began to show signs of discomfort. “I’m sure Morgan will act as your defender, will you no’, brother? Do take yer seat, Montague, or you’ll do without yer meal this night. The woman you accuse is a guest at my table, as much as you, yerself. And, for what it’s worth, I very much doubt the good lady intentionally attacked you.”

“You probably shouldn’t be so quick to discount what he tells you,” Annie said. “I did attack him. I freely admit to it. And, under the same circumstance, I’d do it again, given half a chance.”

Alex could feel the muscles in the back of his neck tighten as Montague jumped up from his seat, again demanding loudly that Annie be ejected from the hall.

“Sit down!” Alex roared, seemingly surprising the man enough that he returned meekly to his chair. Alex then turned his glare on Annie, only to find her glaring back at him. “And why, pray tell, would you attack Master Montague?”

“It’s not her fault,” Lissa piped in. “We entered Da’s chamber with his lunch just as Master Montague wielded his knife to begin Da’s daily bleeding. She mistook him for—”

“Daily?” Annie interrupted, her cheeks mottled red with her anger. “You people let him do that to your father every freakin’ day?”

“Sometimes more often, if needed,” Montague inserted.

Annie made a gurgling sound, very much like a woman drowning. “What is wrong with you people? Can’t you see how pale your father is? Don’t you understand that the last thing he needs is to lose more blood?”

Montague sat up straight, lifting his chin. “Not that a mere woman like you could possibly understand the knowledge behind my methods, but the auld laird is pale because his humors are out of balance. By removing the bad blood—”

“There is no such thing as bad blood, you idiot,” Annie stormed. “And humors are just something made up by charlatans like you to cover for the things you don’t know how to heal. You’re nothing more than a butcher, bleeding that old man dry like some vampire.”

“Barber,” Aiden corrected, speaking up for the first time. “No’ a butcher. Master Montague is a highly respected barber, skilled at the craft of bloodletting. It was his reputation that led me to bring him to Dunellen in the first place.”

“Barber?” Annie repeated, disbelief shining in her eyes. “You’re telling me that he’s only a man who cuts hair for a living, and pretty badly at that, from what I’m seeing around here? This is what you turn your own father’s care over to? A barber. A hair cutter. Oh, and wait, let me guess…that bread goo we brought up to you on the tray? Is that all you’re feeding him? Nothing to help build his blood back up? No protein at all? No iron? Just wet bread?”

Montague appeared as perplexed by what Annie said as Alex felt at hearing her argument, but the barber answered after a long pause. “Bread soaked in wine,” he said. “Three times a day. This is the standard meal for those I treat under similar circumstances.”

“Oh, it is, is it? Standard meal?” Leaning forward, Annie slammed her cup down on the table, sloshing liquid over the sides. “And just how many of those people you treat actually survive your so-called treatment? That man upstairs needs some decent nutrients in his diet if he’s to have any hope of building back his strength after what you’ve done to him. He also needs to keep all his blood in his body where it freakin’ belongs. No wonder he was so happy with me when I knocked you on your butt.”

“That is a lie!” Montague insisted.

“There is no way you could know how Da felt,” Aiden added. “Our father hasn’t opened his eyes or responded to any of us for weeks now.”

“I’m not surprised he isn’t responding to any of you. Because you’re letting this butcher kill him,” Annie said. “Duh. But when I was in that room, he did open his eyes and he squeezed my hand. Maybe you people don’t care what this man is doing to your father, but I do. And I’m not going to let you continue to torture him, slicing him open and draining out his blood. All you’re doing is slowly killing him with the way you’re letting this piss-poor excuse for a doctor treat him.”

“She speaks the truth,” Lissa confirmed quietly, her eyes fixed on the food in front of her.

“You saw this with yer own eyes?” Alex asked, watching his sister closely as he waited for her answer.

“I was right there in the room with her,” Lissa said. “How could I no’?”

It didn’t take being her twin for Alex to know his sister wasn’t telling the whole truth. But the fact that she would cover for Annie told him almost as much as if she had been completely honest.

Alex was no better pleased with Montague’s treatment of his father than Annie. But he’d allowed it. He’d turned a blind eye and hoped for the best. To have this woman, this stranger, come into their home and stand up for his father as none of his family here had been willing to do humbled him. It was something he should have done himself, long before now.

As he listened to Montague’s denials and counter-accusations, a new plan took root in the back of his mind. One that would solve the problem of his guilt over his father’s care as well as what he was to do with Analise Shaw for the time being. All he needed now was the right opportunity to bring his idea to life.

“Lies,” Master Montague exclaimed. “The auld laird has not stirred for days, though I continue to do everything within my power to hasten his recovery.”

“Bull hockey,” Annie snorted. “Considering all you’ve done to that old man, I’m amazed he had the strength to open his eyes and say anything to me. But he did. And one thing I know for a fact is that he doesn’t want you cutting him open anymore. And the other thing I know is that you’re going to have to get past me to try it again.”

“More filthy lies,” the barber said, his voice rising. “This woman is a liar who has chosen to besmirch my reputation.”

“I am not,” Annie said, leaning forward once more, this time to point an accusing finger in Montague’s direction. “But even if I were, I’d much rather be a liar than a murderer like you are.”

“Enough!” Master Montague surged to his feet, sending his chair toppling over backward to crash loudly against the stone floor. “I’ll not sit here to be insulted in this manner. The woman is clearly brainsick. I insist you send her away at once. Away from the table and away from the keep.”