The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(109)

He heard a commanding male voice. “Not harm you … looking for a rebel … search the premises …”

The nuns’ outraged protests were to no avail.

Lachlan knew he didn’t have much time. It wouldn’t take them long to find him here. He jumped from the bell tower to the roof of the church below, then scrambled along the adjoining roof to a place he’d noticed before. A small, dark refuse area behind the kitchen.

If this didn’t work, he’d have to take his chances fighting his way out. But without a horse, he would be at a disadvantage. The hundred yards of open land loomed large.

He was in luck. Two men emerged into the small space below him and not three. Three men would have given them a chance to sound the alarm—he had only two hands.

He used them well.

Dropping from the roof, he took one man in a chokehold and stabbed the other in the side of the neck with the special dirk Saint had fashioned to pierce through mail. The steel blade was unusually sharp and thin—more like a narrow pick than a blade.

It enabled them to kill silently, which in circumstances like this was imperative.

A fraction of a second later, he slid the same dirk into the mailed back of the man he’d been holding around the neck.

After tossing the smaller of the two soldiers behind the fence of refuse, Lachlan set about removing the other man’s armor, which bore arms he did not recognize—five lozenges in an azure fess.

He could hear other soldiers milling about in the kitchen and knew he didn’t have much time before they came out to investigate.

The cloak, tabard, mail shirt, shield, and helm were the most important, so he focused on those. It took a few minutes of struggle to get the mail shirt over the dead man’s head. Once removed, he had to get it over his own.

These bloody Englishmen were a short, small lot, but he managed to get the damned thing on. The helm, tabard, and cloak were much easier. Finally, his disguise was complete. After tossing the second man atop the first, he yelled into the darkness, “There, by the gate!”

As he’d hoped, the men went rushing out of the kitchen, and Lachlan followed behind them.

“Where is he?” he heard people yell. “I don’t see him.”

“Did you see him, Penington?”

He must be Penington. Lachlan shook his head and moved off, following a stream of men that were passing through the gate.

His luck held for a few more minutes. But Penington’s squire must have seen him emerge and brought him his horse. “Sir William!”

Lachlan turned. The lad’s face paled. “You’re not Sir William.”

Before the lad could react, Lachlan grabbed the reins and pushed the boy out of his way. He was on the horse and riding as the cry went out behind him.

It didn’t matter. He was nearly in the forest. It might take him some time to lose them, but he did not doubt that he would.

But the English would be scouring every inch of this forest. How long would it take them to find Bella? He had to get to her first.

Ice chilled every inch of her skin, penetrated her bones, and filled her veins, but Bella refused to cower or show them her fear. She met her brother-in-law’s gaze unflinchingly. “What do you want, William?”

“You always were a proud lass. I told my brother it was a mistake to marry you.” He shrugged indifferently. “But he saw I was right in the end.”

“How did you find me?”

William shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult. My men were watching the forest around the convent and alerted us when you arrived. We were expecting a larger party—it was nice of you to make it easy on us.” He gave her an appraising glance. “Still wearing lad’s clothing, are you? I must admit I never imagined it was you until one of my men said that MacRuairi had been traveling with a woman. When he described your mouth and eyes, I knew.” He shook his head, tisking. “That was really quite foolish of you, attempting to see your daughter like that. We might not have ever known of your deception.”

The ramifications tumbled through her mind. If they knew it was she, then the letter … it had all been a ploy—a trap. Her heart sank in despair. Joan. Where was her daughter?

“You’ve been a very naughty lady,” Sir Hugh added. “But in the end it will all work out for the best.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked surprised that she hadn’t realized it yet. “Why, MacRuairi. Surely, you’ve guessed why we’ve gone to all this trouble? We want the outlaw.”

Actually, she hadn’t. But her heart jumped to a hard thump. “I’m afraid you are to be disappointed. He’s not here. Last I heard he was out west.”

Her bravado was for nothing. Despenser’s face hardened. “Do not take me for a fool, Lady Isabella—and I use that term very loosely. Right now your lover is cornered in the convent, with my men surrounding him.”

Her heart jerked again, but she forced herself not to react, not to panic. Lachlan could take care of himself. He would find a way out. He always did.

Despenser must have guessed what she was thinking.

“And if he manages to slip through the net I have cast for him, you are all the bait I need to lure him into a second.”

She blanched. “You must be mad to think I would ever let you use me to capture him.”