in me, the whispering contrariness that resided persistently within my character no matter how hard I tried to banish it. That she would so immediately question Hamish’s sincerity irked me, even if she had good reason to do so. I found myself yearning to bolster my nephew’s story to support him, and to silence her. “Oh, I’d never heard of such a thing, either,” I said. “At first we thought them an apparition, a wayward fear that might have stepped out of the fathomless pages of medieval history, traveling as we were through such unfamiliar territory. It was why our escort was so unwilling to cooperate with them. We simply couldn’t believe we were being robbed so aggressively, and in such an idyllic setting. And when they demanded we step free of the carriage, I was relieved, at least, that they intended to let us go. I willingly bargained with them, giving them all our possessions, my jewelry—most of which belonged to our dearly departed mother—our horses and the carriage itself in exchange for our freedom, even if it meant we might wander for days on end without any sign of shelter or assistance. But James was worried about our safety under such conditions. He argued. He refused to relent.” I faltered here, almost getting swept away in the emotional momentum of my tale. “’Twas a brutal end,” I finally said. “But thankfully, Hamish and I were allowed to flee. We hid behind the incline of a small hill until they were gone.”
“If I’d had this knife,” Hamish added, “I’d have run after them.”
Christie’s eyes sparked with concern as she pictured our harrowing ordeal. Lachlan, however, sported a completely different expression as his gaze flicked back and forth between Hamish and me. If I wasn’t mistaken, he appeared faintly amused, more relaxed than a soldier should have been when confronted with news of this kind: that evildoers were loose in his near vicinity, that his noble charges might be under dire threat. I had no way of knowing if he was reading our lie with ease. I suspected it. Maybe, as a seasoned soldier born of these lands, he knew that there were no black-clad bandits wreaking havoc; he’d know of them if such people existed. Maybe he’d banished those that once prowled these lands himself. Or he’d listened at the knee of his warrior father, who’d killed them off one by one.
If Lachlan did detect our dishonesty, he made no effort to expose it. His concentration returned to his ale, from which he took a long drink. For this I was profoundly grateful. I decided I liked him, and if there was ever a way I could ever reciprocate the favor, I would.
I realized that Hamish was now holding something in his right hand, the hand that was not currently occupied with the glinting, oversize weapon. A bag, small and blue. Exactly the same fabric, in fact, as the dress that Christie wore. A matching accessory.
My heart thumped with a clenching realization. Nay, I thought. He hasn’t. He’s pickpocketed her! I knew only too well how deftly skilled he was. One might have argued that our predicament was severe enough to warrant theft, or worse. But it was exactly what had put us in this position of vagrancy in the first place, and I wanted nothing more to do with it. This lady, given her hefty bodyguards and their abundant weaponry, was quite possibly the worst choice of target ever in the entire history of thievery.
Hamish spoke, with the utmost politeness. “Milady. Your bag. You dropped it. I wouldn’t want you to leave it behind mistakenly.”
Christie looked confused. Her hand ghosted to the now-empty pocket of her coat, where her bag had been. Then she reached to take the small purse that Hamish held out to her. “Thank you. What a kindhearted lad you are.”
With that, as my heart rioted in my chest, Christie looked at Ailie somewhat beseechingly. “Knox would want to hear about their plight,” she said to her sister. “And he’d want to learn more about these bandits from the witnesses themselves.”
Ailie appeared to contemplate this for a moment, and she looked at me thoughtfully, weighing her decision.
“Aye,” Ailie finally said, to my surprise. “You must come with us.” It was the first time she had spoken. Her voice was soft yet ingrained with a sure, quiet strength, as though she was used to being listened to with interest and obedience. It made me wonder what kind of rank these women held. They were clearly noble; their obvious wealth and their brawny entourage were evidence enough of that.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea—” Katriona began.
“Aye, you must,” Christie agreed quickly. “You can’t stay here at this tavern, and you’ve nowhere else to go. You’ll come with us and we’ll help you find your family. Knox will probably know of them. He knows everyone.”
“Who’s Knox?” asked Hamish.
“Our brother,” said Christie.
“Laird Knox Mackenzie,” Katriona stated with emphasis, as though everyone on the planet, from the tribesmen deep in the jungles of Africa to the painted plainspeople of the faraway Americas, had heard of Laird Knox Mackenzie. Except us.
Not only Katriona’s tone but also her reverential mention of this Laird Knox Mackenzie made me question whether accompanying these women would be in our best interest, as appealing as such an offer might seem. The last thing we needed was to be under the thumb of a lordish, controlling overseer. It was the very situation we were fleeing from. And while I could easily recognize that the brother of these charming sisters might be a far more appealing overseer than the one we had left behind, my pride would not allow us to be charity cases, no matter how desperate we might have been.
I shook my head. “Nay. We wouldn’t dream of imposing on you like that,” I said. Hamish gave me a look of startled irritation. I already knew he would follow Lachlan around like a loyal puppy wherever the beefed-up warrior happened to go if given half the opportunity. “I had already decided to search for gainful employment, to pay our way to our father’s cousin’s lands, wherever they may be.”
“Perhaps we could help you find some work,” offered Ailie, “once you have spoken with Knox.”
“Aye,” said Christie, turning to me. “Our brother, laird of lairds, is very thorough when it comes to the details of any threat to peace within a fifty-mile radius of Kinloch’s walls. It’s been quite some time since we’ve seen bandits in these parts and I know he’d be very interested to hear of them. I’d say you’ll be well occupied for some time to come.”
Her playful respect intrigued me, but I didn’t like the thought of being interrogated by some all-powerful, self-important laird, to spin further, deeper lies that might be as transparent to him as they had been to Lachlan.
“I’m not sure if—” I began.
“We can’t possibly leave you here—” Christie interrupted, glancing around the crowded bustle of the tavern somewhat critically “—unchaperoned and vulnerable to any number of perils, as you are. We’re very close to Kinloch’s borders and it’s therefore our duty to harbor you. I’m sure Knox would agree.”
“I suppose he would,” Katriona tentatively agreed, as though not entirely persuaded.
“We should be on our way as it is,” Ailie commented. “We’ll ride through the night and reach Kinloch by morning.”
“It’s settled, then?” Christie asked. I suspected that these sisters were acting not only out of kindness and benevolence, but also in the interest of their own clan, as it made sense that they would. We were unknown wanderers, after all, with a somewhat outlandish past. We must be investigated as well as protected. And their guards were on hand to ensure not only our safety but their own. Even though we could hardly be considered threatening, it was possible that our story had not fooled either Lachlan or the women, and that Hamish and I might be seen
