door on the other side of the stable? Sutherland held his breath, positive he heard the unmistakable sound of boots walking on the packed earth. The lantern light appeared to be growing brighter and took on the flickering of a torch.
He understood why when the man stepped into view. War Chief MacIlroy had lit his way with a blazing torch. Sutherland readied himself to spring, wondering why in the world the war chief was their fiend. All he needed now to be certain about the man’s guilt was for him to commit whatever wicked deed he had planned.
With the greatest of care, MacIlroy circled the wagon. First, he held his light high, squinting at every crack and seam. Then, he bent and held the sputtering flames low, lighting up the underbelly and examining it closely from stem to stern. He took hold of each wheel and gave it a hard shake. Latching hold of the seat, he rumbled out a mighty growl as he attempted to shake it, too. He kicked the wheels, thumped the sides, and bent and checked underneath again. Then he stepped back, scowling as he rubbed his chin and scanned the length of the vehicle one last time. It was then that Sutherland realized the man hadn’t come to scuttle the wagon. MacIlroy had come to ensure it was safe.
Shite. Another damned innocent. Although, for Chief Greyloch and the clan’s sake, he was glad the war chief had turned out to be loyal rather than a blackguard. He lowered himself back to his uncomfortable seat and scrubbed his face with both hands.
Dawn would break soon, and he doubted very much that their trap would be sprung this late. What a waste. He propped his chin back in his hand and watched MacIlroy leave the same way he had entered. As soon as the tiniest bit of light started coming in under the double doors, he and Magnus would steal their way up to the private suite.
He rubbed his gritty eyes. His weariness for this task was fast becoming impossible to ignore. While he waited for the sun to rise, he would attempt to come up with another plan. He hoped like hell Magnus thought the same and would come up with one, too. This one had proven to be a dismal failure.
Chapter Fourteen
They didn’t speak as they stole out of the stable and crept across the courtyard with the stealth of thieves. Sliding along the walls, his back pressed tight against the stones, Sutherland cautiously peered around every corner. Greyloch had said he would leave the entrance to his private solar unlocked in case they needed it. He had told them to access it through his gardens.
Even though it was the gloaming, the eerie time of day that was not yet morning nor no longer night, they still risked running into servants required to rise early to start their daily tasks. He saw no one and motioned for Magnus to follow. They darted into the entrance and crossed to the back stairwell without encountering anyone. Up the steps they silently vaulted and rushed down the hall. When he tried the latch to Sorcha’s sitting room, he discovered the door locked.
“Damn it to hell and back,” he cursed under his breath.
“Ye wouldha raged like a beast if he had left it open, and ye couldha just walked in,” Magnus retorted.
After a metallic clinking and the sliding thud of the bar on the other side, the door flew open, revealing Greyloch with his sword raised. The old warrior blew out a heavy breath and relaxed. Waving them into the room, he closed the door behind them, set the lock, and replaced the bar across it. “I take it all our efforts were for naught?” he asked through a yawn.
“All we discovered was that Gibb and War Chief MacIlroy are both in the clear. Ye’ll be pleased to know they’re loyal to yerself and Lady Sorcha.” Sutherland poured himself a drink, downed it, then poured another. It had been a long, disappointing night.
Magnus joined him at the sideboard and helped himself.
Dropping to a couch he had pulled over next to the bedchamber door, Greyloch propped his sword beside him, then leaned his head back on the cushions and rubbed his eyes. “Well, damn. Right back to where we started.”
“Now what?” Magnus asked. “Ye said yesterday, yer lady wife wouldna be fit for travel for several days.”
“I dinna have a feckin’ clue.” Sutherland sagged down into a chair and nursed