The Warrior Laird by Margo Maguire

chest. “How could anyone sneak in here with all of us—”
    â€œWe all slept soundly for the first time in a fortnight,” Dugan said. “They might have set fire to the place and none of us would have noticed it until our hair was on fire.”
    â€œIt makes no sense, Dugan. Who knew we had pieces of the French map?”
    Dugan shook his head. He did not know, but he could not just stand there doing naught but scratching his head. He turned to his men. “All of you—get your horses and take to the road. Two of you ride southward, the rest of you head north and see if you can find our thief. If he’s left the inn, he couldn’t have gone far. Lachann, come with me.”
    â€œWhat are you going to do, Dugan?”
    â€œIf anyone in this place is up and about,” he said, “that could be our thief.”
    â€œYou’re going to listen at every door?”
    â€œIf need be.” Dugan headed up the stairs and when he reached the top, noted one door that was slightly ajar. He pushed it open and saw that the room was empty.
    â€œI thought there were no spare rooms to let,” Lachann whispered.
    â€œDamn all,” Dugan muttered. ’Twas Lady Maura’s room. With his own eyes, he’d seen Baird escort her to it.
    The fire was out, but Dugan could see that the lady had done no more than lie on top of the bedclothes—probably so she would not become too comfortable and sleep through until morning.
    The wench had decided to steal from him last night, when the taste of him was still on her lips.
    â€œDo you think she left alone, Dugan?” Lachann asked quietly.
    â€œI doubt it,” he replied. “What highborn lady would go off in the night without a servant or two to take care of her?”
    â€œOr an escort.”
    â€œAye.”
    â€™Twas infuriating. To have been so taken in by a bonny face and form. He and Lachann returned to the main floor, Dugan vowing never again to be so taken in.
    Had Maura and Baird concocted a quick plan together after hearing Archie’s slip of the tongue? She had not seemed particularly glad of Baird’s company, but mayhap he was her only choice.
    Damn all! Dugan wanted to punch his fist through a wall. He could not believe he’d been so lax that he’d allowed the woman to steal away his only possibility of raising the funds he needed to keep his clan on their land.
    As the sun rose, Dugan and Lachann gathered their belongings together. They heard activity in the kitchen and found the innkeeper there, along with two maids. Dugan made haste in settling his account with the man, asking him if he knew when Lady Maura’s party had left the inn.
    â€œThey hav’na left, Laird.” The man frowned fiercely. “At least, not that I know of. They’ve no’ paid me fer their lodgings.”
    No, of course they had not settled their account, not if they—
    A shrill voice and the clomping of heavy shoes on the staircase interrupted Dugan’s thoughts. The old woman he had seen with Lady Maura burst into the kitchen. “She’s gone!” she cried. “Gone!”
    â€œLady Maura, ye mean?” asked the innkeeper.
    â€œWell, who else would I be talking about, man?” the woman demanded in a panicked but decidedly sour tone. “Where could she have gone?”
    The innkeeper spoke to one of the maids. “Go out to the privy and see if the lady is there.”
    â€œI’ve been there, sir,” the old woman countered. “Which is why I know that Lady Maura is not there or in her room!”
    Dugan stepped forward. “What about her lieutenant?”
    The old woman looked askance at Dugan for suggesting the possibility that the two were together, but turned to the innkeeper. “Rouse Lieutenant Baird, sir.” Then she turned to Dugan and pointed one pale finger at him. “And you keep out of this, you . . . you . . . highlander