Wicked Laird (Brethren of Stone 2)

Her hands snaked about his neck, her head resting on his chest. She needed him more than she’d ever imagined possible. “Blair,” she asked tentatively.

“What is it, love?” Whatever he was thinking, his voice was tender.

“Don’t you have enough men already? Maybe we shouldn’t go to the village today.” She knew he could handle himself but worried he tempted fate.

“I agree, we are not going.” They’d reached the captain’s quarters and he opened the door, carrying her inside.

As soon as he’d shut it behind him, her hand snaked into his hair, tugging it down so that she could touch her lips to his. “Oh good,” she whispered, kissing him again. “It isn’t safe for you to go—”

“Elle,” he interrupted. Then, setting her down on her feet, he reached behind him and gently pulled her hand from his hair. “I am still going. He’s starting a war and a war needs men.”

She wound it back around his neck. “But I am worried for you.”

“It’s you we need to worry about, not me.” He removed her arms again. “You help Will start the work. The men I hired yesterday trust you. Make them feel as safe as you can.” He stepped away and handed her a satchel of coins. “Pay them at the end of the day as I promised.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Listen to me, Elle. If I don’t return, you are to sail south with Will. He knows we are married and he’ll make sure Stone cares for you. You and Ailean will never want again.” Then he grabbed his shirt, his coat, and his boots and he was gone.

She stood staring at the door. Never want? She wanted him. Fiercely.

Blair sat on his horse with two men flanking him. He wasn’t a complete fool. He’d taken two of the fiercest men Stone had sent with him into the village. It likely didn’t win him a great many friends but it was a necessary precaution. Tomorrow, he’d begin his search in other nearby villages but the more he could hire from this one, the better off they’d be.

His first stop, however, was the constable’s office.

Not that he didn’t know how the visit would go. The man was either being paid by McKenzie or just scared near to death. But, Blair would use legal channels none the less.

His office was in the center of the village. As Blair entered, he saw the man lounging behind his desk. He ruled out frightened.

“You,” Constable McCleary sat in his chair.

“Me,” Blair answered.

The constable stood. “What is it this time? Another fire?”

“You could call it that.” Blair stepped up to the other side of the desk. “Someone shot a cannon at my ship this morning.”

“A cannon?” The constable had the decency to take a half step back. “Good God.”

“My thoughts exactly. I’ve hired twenty men from the village to begin the construction of piers. It’s my assumption someone is attempting to halt my progress.”

“Twenty men, you say?” The constable scratched at the back of his neck. “Are those temporary jobs or more permanent like?”

“Permanent. Though I am not sure what that has to do with the cannon.” He knew exactly what the constable wanted to know. The man had dismissed him when he’d been the poor laird living in the caretaker’s cottage. Now, he was reassessing his options. The arse.

McCleary turned around and grabbed his coat. “I suppose I’d better go have a look.”

“Excellent. I’ll back here at the end of day to see what you’ve found.” Blair turned to go.

The constable was around the desk in a flash. “Ye’ll not come with me?”

“I’ve more men to hire.” Blair crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ye intend to sail ships. And there will be jobs?” The constable rocked on his feet.

“Aye,” he replied. “There will be jobs. I am but one line in a much larger operation.”

“What of McKenzie?” The constable dropped his voice low.

“What of him?” Another lie. “He’s a farmer and I am shipper. In theory our businesses would work quite well together.”

The constable licked his lips, glancing toward the ground. “He’s not a man who likes to share. He rules this town…without exception.”