Seducing the Laird Read online

  "I like your hair," he said softly.

  The warmth of his voice washed over her, making her shiver as if she had been caressed.

  "’Tis unseemly for a widow," she replied demurely, though she made a mental note to wear her hair down as much as possible in his company. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

  "I am much better, thank you."

  "You must be hungry."

  "Not yet. Talk to me for a while."

  Despite his words Verena stood up and began putting her pallet away.

  "I can cook and talk at the same time," she said, avoiding his peculiar gaze. "Of what would you like to speak?"

  "You."

  "There isn’t much to tell."

  "Somehow I doubt that. A woman alone, particularly one as lovely as you, is unusual."

  Hadran helped her cultivate a persona, but Verena hesitated. A young maid traveling alone would be wary of confiding in a stranger.

  "I know nothing about you," she pointed out. "Not even your name."

  She let Cairn consider her words while she stoked the fire and set a cauldron of water to boil over it.

  "Cairn McPherson," he said, watching her reaction. She visibly tensed and spun around, though inwardly she rejoiced. Cairn confided in her! Verena hoped she acted properly appalled upon discovering she was trapped in a cottage with the enemy.

  "You are a Scot," she said, backing away until her skirts brushed the hearth.

  "I won’t hurt you." He chuckled. "I couldn’t if I wanted to."

  "Why are you here?"

  "Because I am a fool who believed another man’s offer of peace."

  She could see the intense fury in his eyes. Gundy had taken a considerable risk by letting Cairn escape. If Hadran’s team couldn’t complete the assignment, Cairn would be back for revenge. What if he discovered the truth about her? Owen was posted outside the cottage should anything go wrong, but once in Scotland there was little he could do for her.

  "I didn’t know the depths of Gundy’s treachery and will not be fooled again."

  "My departure from Langthorne was also less than auspicious," Verena admitted, letting one perfect tear fall down her smooth cheek.

  Servants were always at the mercy of their master. From his silence Cairn must have inferred what evil deeds Gundy attempted on a young, unprotected woman to make her flee his castle.

  "Gundy is a monster," he growled through clenched teeth.

  Verena almost smiled. Cairn did believe her story.

  "He is a noble," she corrected. "I am nothing to him."

  "Not all nobles are the same."

  "Let us eat. It is too early to speak of rage."

  This time his hands were steady as he griped the bowl without spilling a drop. His strength was returning with speed, Lord Gundy would be happy to know. It meant they would soon be continuing to Scotland.

  "You seem much stronger this evening."

  "I feel stronger," Cairn replied as he emptied his second bowl. "Thank you for sharing your food with me."

  "’Tis not much," Verena lied. In truth the man ate almost as much as Owen. Verena was pleased. Hadran insisted a healthy appetite was a sign of good health. "I was taught long ago how to stretch a meal."

  "By your parents?"

  Verena shook her head.

  "My grandfather raised me."

  "He sounds like a practical man."

  "He is."

  Verena took the empty bowl from Cairn’s hands. She had told him a little of her fabricated history. That would suffice for now. Hadran had instructed her how to tease a man’s interest, offering a bit of information at a time. To satisfy his curiosity Cairn would be more likely to divulge information about himself.

  Truthfully she didn’t seek to learn anything from him. If Cairn knew the location of the treasure her assignment would be considerably different. Since he didn’t, all Verena needed from Cairn was a way into his castle. Once there she would find the treasure on her own.

  "Would you like some bread?"

  Cutting a thick slice of black bread Verena lightly toasted it before the fire. She liberally smeared it with a generous drizzling of honey. Cairn McPherson’s affection for sweets was as legendary as his prowess on the battlefield so she was sure to bring the best honey she could find on this assignment.

  As she prepared the bread Verena could feel the McPherson’s eyes upon her. She wasn’t a fool and could easily interpret Cairn’s thoughts, but he seemed determined to treat her with respect. He never mentioned his desires, but she knew they were there. It gave her a heady sense of power to know he wanted her.

  Chapter 7

  Frigid late autumn air blew through the forest, finding its way through the old stable’s ancient, crumbling walls. Once it had been a handsome building, regularly housing the fine steeds of Langthorne lords during hunting trips, but as the conflict escalated along the north English border Lord Gundy abandoned the isolated lodge making it the perfect location for Hadran to launch Gundy’s plan.

  The once-pristine stalls now stank of damp, moldy wood. Piles of rotting hay carried traces of ancient manure. Uncountable spiders lived among the filth, covering nearly every surface with thick white webs. Owen had kept busy hunting in the surrounding area and several carcasses were scattered around the stable to prove his skill. In one corner a space had been cleared for Owen to camp. It was a small victory of order against the decaying structure.

  It was late in the afternoon when Verena was finally able to sneak out of the cottage without being detected. Hadran had just returned from Langthorne castle and was anxious to hear of her progress. They stood close together in the clean area next to Owen’s pallet, careful not to touch the walls or hay.

  The failing daylight cast eerie shadows on the walls, but the three conspirators dared not light a candle. The burning smell, the light, or their voices could easily carry back to their sleeping prisoner. If Cairn McPherson suspected Verena met with the other men their plan would be ruined.

  "He told me his name," Verena announced in a whisper.

  "Then he is starting to trust you," Hadran said.

  "He trusts me enough to tell me his name."

  "The McPherson is an intelligent man," said Hadran. "It takes cunning and skill to gain his reputation on a battlefield. You are a beautiful woman, Verena, and the Scot’s illness has weakened him, but it is only a matter of time before he begins to question his good fortune, if he does not already. Do not press him too hard."

  "I agree." Owen flicked a large spider from his shoulder then crushed it beneath his boot. "We would know this rescue was too easy."

  "Make no sexual overtures," Hadran advised. "Not yet. He is attracted because he is a man, but if you appear too interested he will immediately suspect you. Be friendly, but distant and very wary."

  "I know what I am doing."

  Verena didn’t mean to sound petulant, but she had been on countless assignments for Gundy. She knew how to seem intriguing, innocent and trustworthy. Six months ago she had talked her way into the French Queen Anne’s private chambers to purloin intimate letters from her lover. The two men’s concern was entirely unfounded.

  "Aye, girl," said Hadran, playfully tugging Verena’s long braid where it lay on her shoulder. It was his gruff, awkward way of showing affection. "If that Scot is not your devoted slave in a fortnight I’ll be shocked, but that doesn’t mean I won’t worry for my best agent."

  "I don’t know about your best," Owen said grudgingly. He swung a punch at her shoulder. She twisted away, deftly blocking and trapping his fist with one hand and countering with a sharp punch to his gut.

  She remembered when they first met long ago. She had been nothing but a nuisance then, an orphan Hadran picked up off the street because he said she had potential. Owen seemed so much older and wiser to Verena even though he was only five years her senior. She looked up to him like a brother.

  "Aye," she exclaimed triumphantly as Owen pretended to gasp for breath. "The best!
Besides, once Gundy’s soldiers are finished with him, the Scot will think I am his only friend."

  "I don’t know why you won’t let me do that," grumbled Owen, referring to the next stage of their plan. "I hate working with Gundy’s soldiers."

  "As do I," agreed Hadran. "But I will not needlessly risk you or my other agents. You are too valuable to me. I need you to watch Verena in Scotland and I cannot risk the McPherson recognizing you later."

  "Gundy’s men have been trained for this," said Verena. "They know what to do."

  "The Scot’s wounds were excessive," protested Owen. "Gundy knew we needed him and yet to allow his men to do that …"

  "They were excessive," Hadran broke in with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But that can’t be helped now. He seems to be recovering fine. It was necessary to create a sense of urgency so Verena could act."

  "Every day we risk our lives to make Gundy a few pounds richer and he doesn’t care enough to follow a simple plan. We made him into what he is today and what do we get? We are as trapped as the peasants in the fields, just better fed. If these soldiers fail …"

  "Then Gundy will find great enjoyment in punishing them for their stupidity," snapped Hadran. He was growing weary of Owen’s complaints. "They have enough to fear from their lord that they will follow directions. When will the Scot be ready for travel? I need not tell you Gundy is becoming restless."

  "Gundy is always restless," said Verena with a laugh. "We can start for Scotland on the morrow provided Gundy’s men aren’t too enthusiastic in their roles again. He is barely healed enough for light travel. We cannot risk seriously injuring him before I am safely in Scotland."

  "I will remind them to be careful. Jon is watching the main road and informed me that a large detachment of men is heading south from the McPherson stronghold." Hadran referred to their youngest operative, a spirited youth from Paris. "They are no doubt the Scottish reinforcements. You should rendezvous with them at the split willow by sunset. That is before the road forks to the east so the Scot will not become suspicious of you traveling so far north with him."

  "It will be harder to reach you once you are with the other Scots," Owen cautioned. "But no matter the danger, if you need me, I will come."

  "I know, Owen."

  Verena spared her friend a smile before turning back to their leader. Owen would come for her, but he was one man who learned to fight in the back alleys and muddy streets of London. Would he be enough to save her should the McPherson learn her true identity? She would rely on herself first and her powers of persuasion. She would be trapped in Scotland with Cairn McPherson and his knights, but she had been in far worse situations. She had no intention of needing Owen’s help.

  "If everything goes according to plan the McPherson will have no choice but to take you to Scotland."

  "Nothing ever goes according to plan," laughed Verena. "But I am adaptable. One way or another I shall enter Scotland and find this mythological treasure."

  "It might seem like a myth, but the treasure exists," Hadran insisted. "Somewhere up there is a fortune so secret not even the current laird knows its location. You will find it, Verena, and bring it to Gundy."

  "I will not fail."

  •

  Cairn watched Verena reenter the cabin through half-closed eyes. She said she left to relieve herself, but there was a strange inflection in her voice. She couldn’t have betrayed him so far from Langthorne, but the nagging feeling persisted that all was not as it seemed. She was too beautiful, too kind, too selfless and too sexy.

  Verena thoughtfully used her body to block the gust of wind from outside, but Cairn could still feel the biting cold. She must be freezing after wandering about in that weather. It was a shame she didn’t choose to warm herself in his bed. Sensing Cairn’s eyes on her, she softly whispered his name.

  "Are you asleep?"

  Her voice was low and sleepy reminding him of cozy fires, mulled wine and slow, erotic love.

  Cairn squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t respond. There was no invitation. It was only his imagination which dared him to touch the creamy expanse of shoulder exposed when she rolled over in sleep.

  She was so shy and fearful and at the same time courageous. It made her seem both innocent and alluring. As the fire burned low, bringing a chill to the air, Cairn longed to bury himself in her warmth. That heated response for his enemy, an English woman, made Cairn wary.

  After a moment she turned away. She fell asleep soon after, curled into a ball with one hand tucked into her stomach and the other hidden beneath her head. Cairn’s stayed awake long into the night, thinking of home and the raven-haired enigma who saved him.

  Chapter 8

  Verena awoke to the sounds of battle. She heard a loud crash as bodies slammed into each other and the clang of steel meeting steel. Owen was stationed outside protecting her from harm. Was he now fighting for her? Had someone found their hiding place?

  Before she was fully conscious her hand went to the knife hidden beneath her pillow and she leapt to her feet.

  "S’wounds!" Came an astonished cry.

  Verena turned to the noise instinctively to gauge the threat. She blinked rapidly to clear her hazy mind. The sounds of battle were still there, but she was suddenly aware that she had made a colossal mistake.

  "’Tis only a storm," said a bemused Cairn. "We are safe."

  Mortified, she realized the explosions outside were not the ring of metal and gallop of horse’s hooves. Instead they were the cacophony of thunder and lightning of an early winter storm.

  Glancing down at herself in mortification, she discovered the light from the dying fire clearly illuminated her shape through her worn chemise. She quickly dropped to her pallet, covering herself with a blanket.

  "Thank you," she said shyly. She was not usually so modest—courtesy of growing up with Owen and Hadran, but that upbringing didn’t prepare her for the warmth of Cairn’s gaze burning through her underwear. When Cairn looked at her like that Verena felt as if she wore nothing at all. She decided she must still be disoriented from waking so suddenly.

  "Who is Owen?" Cairn asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  She wanted to kick herself. All of her preparation for this assignment, and perhaps her life, would be for naught if she accidentally said the wrong name in her sleep.

  "Did I call his name?"

  "Aye, before you woke up. Who is he?"

  "Owen is my brother, but I have not seen him in many years."

  "You didn’t mention other relatives."

  Verena shrugged, using the motion to more fully cover herself with the blanket. A lie was quickly forming in her mind.

  "’Twas not important," she replied. "He is much older and was sent to another of Gundy’s holdings as a soldier. I don’t know why I dreamt of him."

  Cairn nodded, but Verena wasn’t sure her answer satisfied him.

  "Where did you get the knife?"

  "Owen gave it to me years ago."

  That was the truth. Owen made several daggers identical to the one he always carried. It was a simple tool, designed for cutting meat or bread. It was also the key to carrying secret messages between Hadran’s agents. The handle of each knife was exactly the same width which meant innocuous scraps of parchment, fabric, or animal hides could be wrapped around them revealing vertical patterns of letters written on the material. It was one of many ways the spies communicated and guaranteed that only someone with possession of their knives and the knowledge to use them could read the notes.

  "Did he also teach you how to use it?"

  "Aye, before he left," she replied, looking him in the eye. There was nothing suspicious about an older brother teaching his younger, pretty sister how to use a knife, particularly if she worked in Lord Gundy’s castle. But were her motions too precise, too practiced or smooth?

  "I would like to dress," she announced to halt his probing questions. "Could you please turn around?"

  Cairn did so, albeit hesitantly.
She could sense many more questions forming in his mind. Yesterday he seemed content to accept her aid, but as his recovery progressed Cairn became more inquisitive.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Much better. I should be able to leave soon."

  Much sooner than was wise if Lord Gundy had his way. Verena couldn’t forget she was on a schedule. Her role was one small piece of Gundy’s much larger plan. It had only been a few days since Owen knocked Cairn from his horse and most of that time he spent in delirious fever. Cairn needed much more time to recover before he could safely travel, but she couldn’t wait. She needed him well and on the road now.

  Using what Hadran taught her of herbs and medicine Verena used every poultice, draught, diet, and even astrology to help him. She fed him hearty, savory foods that he told her would balance Cairn’s four humours. All people, Hadran insisted, were susceptible to illness when the four bodily fluids of blood, yellow bile, black bile and phlegm were not in balance. Cairn had lost enough blood during his capture so she didn’t to bleed him again, but there were plenty of bitter draughts to calm the other fluids.

  She glanced longingly at the door as she changed his bandages, wondering when the storm would abate. She hated being trapped indoors for long periods of time, especially when on an assignment.

  "I know how you feel."

  She realized he had followed her gaze to the door.

  "I would also rather be outside."

  She forced a smile; a little unnerved that Cairn had read her so easily.

  "Do you miss Scotland?"

  "A bit." His features softened as he thought of his home. "In truth I spent most of my life in France where I fostered with my brother. I do miss the adventures of youth, exploring the peat bogs and throwing myself down hillsides covered in heather until my skin itched abominably. Scotland has an untamed beauty that is unlike any other land."

  "It sounds lovely,"

  "Aye, but it is also hard. I am lucky to be in the fertile lowlands, but our harvests are nothing like my brother’s in sun-kissed France."

  The furious storm ended as suddenly as it began. Verena left the cottage on the pretext of relieving herself, but soon returned, brandishing a tree branch as if it would bite her.