Highlander Medieval 06 - Her Highland Hero by Terry Spear

had learned that the last time, when Marcus had been injured by one of her own people, her father had finally convinced the Scots to quit fighting. But also that he had asked Marcus’s help in stopping the skirmishes. Marcus had offered only to help at the price of taking Isobel as his bride. She loved him for it. And she wished her father had agreed.
    But her father had won the peace without giving her over to the Highlander. She was not disappointed that the hostilities had ended. Only disappointed that her father still would not allow her to wed Marcus.
    The staff normally greeted her cheerily when they passed her by, but now they examined the rushes on the floor as they avoided looking directly at her while they hurried about their business. That concerned her. Several knights guarding from the wall walk that evening were dressed in chain mail, while double the guards were posted. Isobel had noticed the high state of alert, but she was unable to ascertain the reason for such concern.
    Isobel peeked into the room where several of her father’s vassal lords and some of his knights were having a conference with Lord Wynfield, who was standing squarely in the center of the group. The short, stocky man’s puffy cheeks, usually punctuated by dimples, were plain ruddy this stormy night as he snapped at one of the servants and scowled at the knights. She had only seen Wynfield in such an aggravated state on one other occasion when her mother had died unexpectedly from a raging fever while her father had been away on business in Scotland two years earlier.
    Again, she was reminded why she did not wish to wed him.
    Isobel attempted to discover what had upset the baron so as she leaned against the stone wall outside her father’s solar.
    Lord Wynfield cleared his throat. “King Henry will have to be made aware of this as soon as possible.” From the dark tone of the baron’s voice, whatever the news was, it was not good.
    More rampant fighting, she feared and maybe her father needed reinforcements.
    For an instant, all remained silent. Afterward, the men spoke all at once in such a confusing deluge that she could not understand their words. “One at a time, gentlemen,” Lord Wynfield said.
    Standing closest to the doorway, Sir Halloran said, “What of Lady Isobel?”
    The mention of her name sent shivers cascading down her spine as she stood obscured by the wall leading to the doorway. One of the knights walked over to close the door and frowned to see her standing there. “Excuse me, my lady.” Sir Edward closed the door.
    She leaned against it to listen, but unable to discern any more of the men’s conversation muffled by the massive oak, she headed down the corridor to her bedchamber, hating that she did not know any more about what was going on than before.
    When she entered her room, Mary rushed to greet her. Her green eyes were narrowed and her red brows pinched in a frown. She appeared just as shook up about something as everyone else was. “Are you retiring to your bedchambers for the evening already, my lady?”
    “Aye, Mary. Lord Wynfield’s mood is too stormy for me. He has everyone upset to no end. Whatever is the matter, do you know?”
    “I would not know, my lady.”
    Yet the way her maid refused to look her in the eye, Isobel knew differently. She also knew if the baron didn’t want anyone to enlighten Isobel as to the matter, the staff would hold their tongues.
    Already, rain was pelting the stone walls, the winds howling through the arrow-sized windows, and lightning streaked across the black sky, highlighting mountains of clouds. Thunder boomed in its wake, warning the storm had only just begun.
    She didn’t think the night and all its secrets would ever end.
    She was mistaken.

Chapter 7
    The stormy journey had taken Marcus and his five men five days to reach Torrent Castle near the village of Ancroft and learn Lady Isobel was no longer there.
    Lord Wynfield stonily greeted him. “I warn you