one side. “She’s a fine candidate to take to wife. A bit of negotiating might be in our best interests.”
Farrell laughed. “Och now, lad. And here I thought ye were looking for a wife that came with connections. If ye wanted one that was from a family that detested the very thought of ye, we could have stayed home.”
Keir winced. It was a hard truth that his father had made enemies of most of his neighbors. For all that Raelin McKorey had come to him, her family would be furious if he paid her court. His father had raided her family’s land for a good decade.
But it was not her that blushed for him. Maybe he wasn’t any good at choosing a wife for her worth alone. Gwen’s words lingered in his mind, and the way she’d always looked at him, haunting him with something that he’d not ever felt. Gwen loved him but he’d never felt the same emotion for her. It was a fact that he was jealous of that. It was as if she felt deeper and more intensely than he had. He’d have married Gwen but he was relieved when she rejected him. It gave him another chance to find a woman who warmed more than his cock.
“We sound like a pair of old men, flapping our lips when there’s work to get done.”
Gaining the saddle, Keir wrapped the reins around his fist. His men followed him and they rode into the street without another word. The roads were almost deserted now that the sun was setting. Their horses’ hooves echoed off the closed shutters of the shops and homes lining the roads.
For a man with silver in his pocket, no one was hard to find in London. Especially not Edmund Knyvett, heir to the earldom of Kenton.
What sickened Keir was the glee some of the informants took in delivering their information. Edmund seemed to have no fear of those he walked over.
That made him a stupid man, in Keir’s opinion. Every man, woman, and child wearing the McQuade plaid owed him their loyalty from the moment they were born, but he would not be making the mistake of thinking that meant he should abuse them. The clan was only as strong as the effort they all put into the new harvest. A wise laird respected his retainers and earned their respect in return.
Edmund did not seem to share that opinion.
The town home wasn’t hard to find, the crest above the iron gate proclaiming it a nobleman’s house.
It was the sort of town home that most nobles kept for when they were at court—small, rising three stories. The windows were dark, but the shutters on the very top one were open. Keir stared for a long moment at the dark space within the window. A tingle crossed his neck and something gnawed at his gut. An eerie feeling of foreboding clamped onto him, refusing to be swept aside by logical thinking.
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m going to knock on the door.”
Farrell shook his head. “This I have got to witness with my own eyes.”
A uniformed housekeeper answered the knock quickly. But she turned suspicious when she got a look at him. The woman had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.
“I’ve come to see Lady Knyvett.”
“As if I’d be letting anyone inside without the master home.”
Keir propped a hand on the thick wooden door, refusing to allow her to close it in his face. She looked past him at his retainers, her eyes growing wide.
“But ye are admitting that the mistress is here?”
The woman looked at the ground. “I won’t be answering any questions from you. The master wouldn’t like it.” Her tone was coated in regret and she raised her face to show him an expression of lament. “I might lose my place just for speaking with ye. Go on now. The mistress cannot come out of her room. The master made sure of that, he did.”
“Made sure? How did he make sure?”
Keir pushed past the woman because she didn’t respond quickly enough to suit his mood. She gasped, scampering after him. She reached for him but he dragged her along easily.
“Point me in the right direction, woman, or I’ll poke me head into every room until I find what I want.”
His men followed him, cutting the housekeeper off from any curious eyes on the street. Keir did not waste time on the ground floor. He found the stairs that led to the