The Scot's Pursuit - Keira Montclair Page 0,61
asked gently. “What she was wearing? Her shoes? Anything?”
She shook her head. “Just her hair.”
Alick took both of her hands in his and asked, “If I go with you, can you lead me to that cell?”
She nodded. “Of course. They put the other prisoner in the last one, if I recall. And if I ask the stablemaster, he’ll know if anyone is there. He knows everything.”
Alick turned around to face the group. “Then we head that way, and Branwen and I will go inside the dungeon.”
Several of the others nodded, including Uncle Jamie and Els.
“I’ll agree with that plan,” Da said. “But I’m going too.”
His grandfather shook his head.
“What’s wrong, Grandsire?”
“Oh, I agree that a small group of us must go to Thane Castle, but you’re not going inside with Branwen. Assuming the stablemaster is willing to help, she’ll go with him and Dyna.”
“What?” Alick sputtered in disbelief. “She’s my mother.”
Da put his hands on his hips. “She’s my wife.”
Grandsire said, “Nay to both of you. You’ll compromise the whole situation because you’re too emotional.”
“Too emotional,” Da barked. “I can control my emotions.”
“And if your wife has been beaten?” Grandsire asked, looking from Da to Alick.
Fury pumped through him, so fast and furious he had to calm himself to reconsider his grandfather’s advice. It was the same fury he’d felt when he’d seen Branwen’s sire try to strike her. As usual, Grandsire was explaining his answer calmly, unruffled by the seriousness of their venture and its possible repercussions.
How Alick wished he could control his emotions the way his grandfather did.
The wizened warrior’s voice turned into a soothing baritone. “Have you forgotten the first time so quickly, Finlay? I would have thought it would stick in your mind forever.” Grandsire looked at Cailean, Sorcha, Branwen, and a few others. “Finlay carried Kyla to me after she’d been nearly beaten to death. The men who did it almost killed him for protecting her.” He turned back to his daughter’s husband. “Even your hands shook as you held her. Can you promise me you’ll not do the same? You’re not the strong young warrior you were back then, and your son’s emotions will overpower him. Alick is a fine Grant warrior, but I never expect the impossible. Nor do I want anything to get in the way of my daughter’s safety—even the love you bear for her.”
A horrible look of grief crossed Da’s face. He left them, making his way to a nearby boulder, and sat down. The tears misting his eyes did not escape Alick’s notice.
“Alex is right,” Maggie said softly, her tone firm. “You two are too close. Branwen, the stablemaster, and Dyna should go in.”
“Why Dyna?” Els asked. “We can go in.” He had his arm wrapped around his wife, Joya.
Grandsire said, “Because Dyna found Branwen and got her out. She obviously knows how to get in and out of that cellar undetected.”
Maggie said, “Agreed.”
The others were a bit disgruntled, but Alick had to admit the plan made sense. Dyna was a talented lass and he trusted Jep completely.
He had to pray his mother was still there and unhurt.
Chapter Nineteen
Branwen had a sick feeling in her belly that wouldn’t go away. What did her uncle have to do with the kidnapping of Kyla Grant? How she prayed they would find her unhurt. She knew the grief of losing a mother, and she didn’t want that for Alick. She also feared her clan’s involvement in the kidnapping might come between them.
She could only pray her father and uncle had no knowledge of the scheme.
And that Kyla Grant was hale and unharmed.
The Grants had made the decision to leave for her land promptly. Some had wanted to wait until the next day, but Alick and Finlay had refused, saying they’d go on alone if they had to.
Alex had agreed with them. “The next time I sleep,” he said, “I hope to know where my daughter is, if you don’t mind.”
Alick fisted his hands at his sides. “Since we know my mother is there, why are we not taking five hundred of our men, storming the place, and killing the bastards who stole her away? ’Tis only right to seek vengeance and not just get her back. I want justice! For my wife and for my mother.”
“And are you so certain the prisoner is your mother, Alick?” the older man crossed his arms and waited for the reasoning of a seasoned warrior to settle in.
“Alick,” Branwen whispered, tears misting in her eyes, “he’s