A Hellion for the Highlander

Alexander looked up at last, and Nathair was shocked to see how haunted his friend’s blue eyes seemed. “Nae body is hurt,” he told Jeanie quietly. “But Cicilia’s had quite the upset. Would ye mind terribly, Miss McCaul, stayin’ here wi’ her while I have a word wi’ me Man-at-arms?”

Jeanie still looked worried, but she chewed on her lip and nodded. “Aye, o’ course, Laird,” she said. She gave Nathair a questioning look, and he gave her a slight shrug in return.

Alexander thanked her and stood, seeming unwilling to leave the crying woman or the sleeping twins. He caught Nathair’s eye, and that was enough. Nathair didn’t need any more than that to follow his Laird out of the room, senses on high alert.

When they were outside the parlor door, Alexander exhaled, leaning against the wall and shaking his head. “Lord God above,” he muttered, a prayer and a curse all in one.

“What happened here?” Nathair asked him urgently. “I dinnae think that lass was capable o’ fallin’ apart like that? Why—”

“The animals,” Alexander told him, his usually smooth voice uncharacteristically rough. “The pigs, the sheep. The goats an’ all. Somebody slaughtered them, all o’ them, while we slept.”

A chill fell over Nathair. “Slaughtered? What do ye—?”

“They’re deid, each an’ every one. I dinnae ken how the farm is gonnae…” Alexander started, then scowled, obviously angry and upset, and a thousand other emotions at once.

When was the last time I saw him so passionate? I dinnae recall anythin’, at least nae since his parents went.

“An’ the horses?” Nathair asked.

“They’re fine, thank God,” Alexander told him. “Ours an’ the farm’s.”

Nathair nodded. That was something, at least.

“I offered to buy her a couple o’ sows an’ some ewes to get them through,” Alexander continued. “They dinnae just sell the animals, either, that was where most o’ their food came from. We cannae just leave them.”

Nathair’s blond eyebrows rose high on his forehead. He knew that Alexander was generous—and, in truth, he’d always been a giving lad—but his friend was never so open about such things. He didn’t comment, however, knowing that it would only bring Alexander discomfort. “An’ the bairns?”

“Their pet pig, the one we met on the first night, he’s gone,” Alexander said grimly. “It was all we could do to bathe the blood off them an’ then let them go to sleep. Poor mites.”

Nathair surveyed Alexander. He wasn’t honestly shocked to hear that he’d helped take care of the children, of course, but again—for him to do so outright was more than a little surprising. “Ye’re in yer night things,” he said after a moment, only because he could think of nothing else to say.

“I dinnae exactly have time to make sure I was neat before I dealt wi’ the death an’ the screamin’,” Alexander retorted.

Since when? Ye’d shine yer shoes before goin’ to battle!

But all Nathair said out loud was, “Aye. Does Cicilia have any ideas o’ the culprit?”

Alexander shook his head, looking troubled. “Nay. Apart from the house staff—the maid, Katie, an’ the Humphries—the only people between here an’ the village are the farmers an’ servants in their wee huts on the outskirts o’ the land. Cicilia says she trusts all of them wi’ all her heart, and cannae picture them doin’ such a thing.”

Nathair nodded, folding his arms. “An’ the village is a four-hour round trip. If somebody did this o’er night, me an’ Jeanie would o’ ran into them on the way back.”

Alexander sighed. “Aye, indeed. I was hopin’ ye could help me solve this puzzle. I ken

Mr. and Mrs. Humphries are yer Jeanie’s parents. Do ye think ye an’ her could ask around the place, see if ye can dig anythin’ up from the servants an’ the workers?”

“Aye,” Nathair agreed absently. His mind was racing so much that he barely noticed the ‘yer Jeanie’ comment. “I’ll set her to it. Meanwhile, I’ll ride out an’ see if there’s anyone still in the perimeter. See if I cannae find some tracks, or blood trails, or the like.”

“Good plan,” Alexander replied. “Thank ye, Nathair. I dinnae ken what I’d do without ye.”

“Flounder like a fish on the shore, most likely,” Nathair told him with an attempt at a grin. “When the bairns awake, tell them I’ll return wi’ some sweet treats for them.”

Alexander smiled back, though his eyes were still sorrowful. “I will. Ye’re a good man, Nathair.”

Nay, Sandy. I might do me best, but ye’re the one who’s got the heart o’ gold.

“I might be a while, especially if I have to trail a’ the way back to yonder village,” Nathair said. “What’ll ye do while I’m gone?”

The Laird had already turned back to the door, but he glanced over his shoulder with one of the grimmest expressions on his face that Nathair ever remembered seeing. “Everythin’ an’ anythin’ I can do to make this a wee bit easier on her,” Alexander replied, and then he went back inside to Cicilia’s side.