Page 62 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

“Thomas, lad! A bit early in the day fer ye, ‘tis not? Cuppa wine?”

Thomas’ eyes flicked around the room until, at last, they met Kenna’s. “Make it two.”

“Took yer time,” Kenna admonished as he took a seat beside her, collapsing with a grunt into the chair.

“Aye, well, there has been much to do lately. Canna just drop everything when a message calling fer a visit shows up out of the blue. Ye look well.”

“Is that surprising to ye?”

“Well, given yer proclivity fer trouble, I am a bit surprised. Hold on,” Thomas replied, reaching his hands out to accept the two cups of wine from the innkeeper.

He took the first and tipped it back. A bit of red wine dribbled down his chin, but Thomas made swift work of the rest, chugging it down with hardly a breath to slow him. He handed the emptied cup back to the innkeeper and pulled the second to his lips, taking one small sip before sighing and relaxing back into his seat.

“Much better. Anyway, how is the marriage?”

“Wonderful, thanks fer asking. Where is John?”

“Strathbogie. There is a lot to do after a rebellion is put down, ye ken. Lots of decisions about who will govern what clan’s lands and who will go and try to repair the lost relationships with other clans and the Queen. And, of course, there were some weaknesses discovered in the castle’s defenses that must be attended to—thank ye fer yer help on that front, Laird Fraser.” Thomas gave Rob a grim smile and tipped his glass toward him.

“Anytime,” Rob replied, with a light smile dancing across his lips.

“None of that seems like a good job fer John.”

“‘Tis certainly not a good job fer John, but he is the elder brother, and he has been awfully pleased with that power as of late. He has been absolutely infuriating. Ye should be glad ye are nowhere near him.”

“So…” Kenna leaned back in her chair and put a finger to her cheek as if she was pondering the point. “… was it his idea to shoot an arrow at me or yers?”

Rob flinched beside her. He had warned her during their ride to Inverness that openly accusing either of her brothers would only end poorly.

“It would be best to coax it out of him, ye ken? Ask him where he went and why and see if something slips,”Rob had told her. “Once ye have him admitting details that he canna take back, ye can accuse him. They won’t have a choice but to admit it then.”

Kenna was doing none of that. She didn’t have the patience for it, nor did it seem like the right course of action. Everything that had happened had been the result of this sort of belief, these little political games that people played with each other. She would not participate any longer, especially when it was one of her brothers that stood accused.

Thomas squinted at her over the rim of his cup. “What are ye on about?”

“The arrow, Thomas! The arrow ye shot into the camp. When it happened, I saw a gold flash in the trees. Are ye telling me that it was not that stupid chain?” she replied, jabbing a finger into his chest, feeling the rough pattern of the chain beneath his shirt.

She felt, rather than saw, Rob’s glance come down upon her.

Ach, she comprehended Ye had not told him about seeing a flash of gold in the trees, had ye?

It was probably a detail he would have cared to know, especially after he had spent so much time searching the woods for the assailant. But so much had happened; all of the events had just started to pile up one on top of the other until the details had just run together in her mind.

Maybe ‘tis a good thing I am sharing a tent with Florence and Ellen, Kenna thought as Rob’s gaze continued to weigh on her.

Thomas took in Rob’s glance before directing his attention back to Kenna. “Still a wonderful marriage?”

“Answer my question,” Kenna shot back, feeling her hands ball into fists.

Being around Thomas again, arguing with Thomas again, was bringing her back to her childhood—of days spent arguing over who stole the last sweet or had lost a favorite toy. She used to kick him in the shins if he was avoiding her questions, and she felt that same urge rising up in her once more. If only the seriousness of the questions had stayed as low as they had once been.

“What? Which of us strategized the attack on the camp? ‘Tis not a question I can answer, for ‘twas neither John nor I. ‘Twas not Huntly either, ye ken, so don’t go running ‘round accusing him.”

Rob finally pulled his gaze from Kenna, turning to Thomas with a hint of contempt in his voice. “And yet ye ken all about what she is talking about.”

“‘Course I do. I was still at Strathbogie with John when Sutherland sent a letter to the Earl of Huntly about it. ‘Twas so full of congratulations and praises for managing to set an entire army running about in fear with only one wee arrow. Huntly told the entire hall that he could not claim the praises, but he offered a purse of gold to any who could. No one stepped forward. He sent out riders to the villages and other small farms and holdings. Still, no one claimed responsibility.”

“But—”