Highlander Medieval 06 - Her Highland Hero by Terry Spear Page A

not to interfere with my decision to send Lady Isobel south to stay with someone safe.”
    “When did she leave?”
    “Two weeks ago.”
    Marcus didn’t believe it. Only ten days had passed between the time the word had reached him of her da’s death and he and his men had traveled there. “Before her da was murdered?”
    Lord Wynfield led him into the great hall to sup with him and Pembroke’s staff. The baron didn’t say anything in response. Afraid he’d be caught up in the lie?
    Marcus had overheard servants talking and they had said Isobel would be staying with King Henry and his wife, Matilda. Isobel would serve as a companion to Matilda in Westminster where the queen preferred to remain.
    Marcus was not happy about that at all. Isobel would have too far to travel and anything could happen before she reached Westminster. Beyond that, King Henry had enjoyed a number of sexual partners resulting in numerous illegitimate children. Though he supported many of them, Marcus didn’t want Isobel to be subjected to Henry’s prowess if he found her as lovely as Marcus did.
    At least, Lord Wynfield had Cook prepare a meal for Marcus and his men while stable hands took care of their mounts. In the meantime, Marcus tried to determine which route Lady Isobel had taken with her escort. He wondered though, why Lord Wynfield had even told him that much.
    Although Pembroke’s staff often looked at the Scots as savages with their noses stuck high in the air, and many kept their eyes averted as if they couldn’t be bothered to even look disdainfully their way, this time the atmosphere was different. Darker. Gloomier. As if the raging storm outside had managed to slip inside the keep’s walls. And yet, several nodded to Marcus with the slightest of greetings as if they were glad to see him, but didn’t want to get caught showing their respect.
    Marcus hurried to eat before they took their leave to determine if they could even catch up to Lady Isobel’s escort. If she had left a few days ago, they might not be able to. Especially if Marcus and his clansmen ran into trouble with the English.
    “I will say again, Laird McEwan, I am doing what the earl would have wished.” Lord Wynfield’s face was flushed with annoyance. He was a well-fed man, from all appearances, and had probably not raised a sword in many a year. He was usually fairly agreeable, from what Marcus had observed of the man during his infrequent visits, except when it came to Marcus’s interest in Isobel.
    Marcus was certain Wynfield was a good man as far as Norman lords went, but he was not at all happy with the idea that a Highlander entertained notions of marrying the lass. Especially when the seneschal contemplated wedding the lady himself.
    “Do you ken who murdered Lord Pembroke?” Marcus queried, lifting a chunk of bread, white, unlike the way his brethren prepared the much heartier brown bread, before he took a bite.
    “ You had motive. You wanted to claim the earl’s daughter as your wife.”
    Marcus glowered at the baron, surprised to hear the man say such. “I had naught but respect for Lord Pembroke. I deeply admire his daughter…”
    Revealing his own belief that Marcus much more than admired the lass, Rob snorted.
    Marcus cast him an annoyed look, then focused his wrath again on the baron. “You ken I didna have anything to do with it, aye?” He didn’t want anyone to believe he had murdered the earl.
    Wynfield took a deep breath and shook his head. “You had motive. But unless you paid the murderers, I do not believe you were behind the killing. A Norman lord of some consequence, from the description of his dress, his saddle, and his weaponry, murdered him. But the witness did not recognize the men.”
    “Men?”
    “Aye. Four. All of them wore garments fashioned from the finest wool. The shepherd believed the men knew Lord Pembroke, and he recognized them, or he would have shouted a warning. Had they looked like common thugs and