“I know you take your obligation seriously. Indeed, is that why you have men roaming the heathland at night with their lanterns?” She paused upon noting his confused expression.
Mackenzie straightened to his full height. “What makes you say that?”
“Have you not sent a man out these last two nights to patrol the area? I have seen him pacing outside the wall holding his lantern aloft.”
A tense silence ensued.
“I’ve given no such orders.” Mackenzie rubbed his forehead. “Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”
“I know what I saw.” Doubt surfaced. She had stood at the window and stared into the night for far too long. It was true. She imagined seeing Vane striding towards the castle, had played the scene over in her mind. What would she say to him? How would he react?
“Perhaps you saw one of the men returning to the dock,” Mary suggested.
Mackenzie frowned. “No one was to leave or enter the grounds without my knowledge. Unless—” He swung around and glared at the men carrying buckets of water, and at those brushing down the horses. “If one of those blighters has been out digging for treasure, I shall—”
“Treasure?” Lillian thought she’d misheard.
“Can you take me to where you saw them?”
“Certainly.” Curiosity outweighed any anxious feelings she might have had.
“Shall I wait here, Mackenzie?” Mary asked.
“You’d better come, too.” Mackenzie gestured to the gates leading from the bailey.
Lillian led the way out of the gatehouse and towards the vast expanse of heathland. Purple sprigs of heather, bright yellow flowers and tufts of green made for a vibrant carpet in the daytime. Raising the hem of her dress, she navigated the terrain, stopping only when they reached the area with a clear view of her bedchamber window.
“The light hovered around here before moving left and then ahead again.” Glancing back and forth between the window and the heath, she pointed to a spot in the distance. “It lingered over there for a time.”
Mackenzie trudged past her, scouring the ground, kicking at plants with the toe of his boot.
“The folks in Branscombe say there’s treasure hidden somewhere on this island,” Mary said as they watched Mackenzie pace back and forth like a bloodhound searching for a scent. “Brought ashore during the Armada. Lord Ravenscroft told the men it’s just a tale, said he'd banish anyone caught digging. In all the time I’ve lived here, I’ve never known a man disobey the master’s orders.”
Lillian considered
what Fabian had told her about Doyle. Mary had made no mention of her husband during the few days she’d been working at the castle. “And yet your husband did.”
Mary shuffled nervously. She drew her cloak across her chest and gripped the edges. “When a man is too stupid to count his blessings then there’s no hope for him.”
“Have you heard from your husband since Lord Ravenscroft banished him?”
Mary blinked rapidly and shook her head. “No, my lady, the man never considered me a priority. But I thank the Lord we’ve no children. Else it would have given him a reason to return.”
Lillian understood the woman’s logic more than most. Still, trust was not something she gave freely—not anymore. And while she wanted to believe Mary spoke the truth, she struggled to accept her word.
“Should you see your husband you must inform Lord Ravenscroft at once.”
Mary nodded. “And thank you, my lady, for giving me a position in your household. Things have been hard these last few months, and I welcome your assistance.”
“It is Mackenzie you must thank. The man sings your praises and was keen to help now you’re on your own.”
“I knew it!” Mackenzie shouted. “Unless the rabbits have learnt to use a shovel, someone has been digging.”
Mary’s eyes lit up when she gazed at the figure on his knees examining the plants. “There’s no man in the world as kind as Mackenzie.”
Lillian’s thoughts turned to Fabian. Despite bringing her to the island against her will, every deed and gesture spoke of a kind heart, too. But what husband left his wife on their wedding night? What could be so important to keep him away from home for days?
Chapter Thirteen