“Excuse me? My wife escaped three months past and this is the first I’ve heard of it? Why in God’s name did I not receive a missive with such disturbing news?” Aleck shook the guard and pushed him away.
Samuel stumbled. “I—”
The monk hastened across the floor. “In using the term ‘escaped’, I can think of nothing else but you were holding your, now annulled wife, prisoner?” The man crossed himself as though he’d uttered blasphemy.
Aleck glared. If he weren’t a holy emissary in the service of the Pope, he’d run the dull-witted swine through. “You, sir, should mind your own affairs.” He pointed in the direction of the sea gate. “You’ve delivered your missive, now be gone with you.”
“Very well, but first I require your signature and seal to recognize your marriage has been dissolved in the eyes of God, and you henceforth have no claim over the Lady Helen of Glenorchy.”
With his nostrils flaring, Aleck drew his dirk from his belt. “I will acknowledge no such thing and I shall cut your tongue out for uttering such ungodly accusations. In fact, I deem your missive a forgery of the most disturbing nature.”
The cleric drew back. “I assure you, I am in the services of His Holiness, Pope Alexander VI, and any actions against me will be considered an act against the Pontiff, the church, and Almighty God himself!”
Aleck raised his dirk and lunged. “Be gone with you afore I make good my threat.”
The monk hastened to the door. “You will be severely punished for this come the Day of Judgment.”
With a bellowing roar, Aleck started after the bumbling magpie.
Some errant cur grabbed his arm and stopped him. Blindly, MacIain reeled around with a fist.
Sir Grant blocked the blow and clamped his fingers tighter around Aleck’s wrist, making the dirk drop to the floorboards. “All your good deeds will be for naught if the king hears you’ve attacked a Benedictine monk who delivered a document from the Pope.”
Aleck jerked his arm away and rubbed it. “I’d like to wrestle that bastard to the floor and cut out his tongue.”
“Aye, and I’m sure you’d do it to any other man,” Grant said. The damned henchman always had a way with words.
Aleck shook his head. Though he’d never admit it aloud, he knew full well Helen’s brother, John, was the Bishop of the Isles and wielded the power to secure her annulment. He should have seen this coming. Leaving her here with a handful of worthless guards would have only served to empower her to persuade them to assist her.
He pointed to Grant. “Bring the old guards to me. I will discover where she’s fled, even if I have to hang every last one.”
The henchman eyes flickered sidewise. “Straight away, m’laird.”
Aleck sauntered forward. “Loyalty before family, aye, Grant?”
“As you’ve taught, sir. Loyalty before family.”
“I shall have words with your mother as well.”
“Aye, m’laird.” Grant turned and nodded to the guards flanking him. “Assemble the men in the great hall. I’ll fetch my ma.”
Aleck slapped the flat side of his dirk in his palm. “If I find anyone in my service has withheld information from me, they will endure a slow and painful death.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
None of the Aleck’s men knew a goddamn thing about Helen’s whereabouts. No one saw or heard a thing. The only nugget of information that could be of any help at all was that Mr. Keith had turned backstabber. He was gone and there was little doubt he’d been the culprit who’d helped her.
Sitting with his elbow on the armrest, Aleck balanced his chin on his fist and watched Grant usher his mother forward. Aleck could bet the old crow knew something, even though she made a good show of wringing her hands and appearing distraught.
When they reached the foot of the dais, Grant stepped away and left Glenda standing alone with her hands tightly clasped before her. She didn’t look up.
Aleck stared at her for a moment, well aware of the power of his steely gaze. He’d made many a man quake with a look. Such was the benefit of being an ugly cur. Sick to death with the ineptitude of his kin, he had no mind for pleasantries. “What do you know about Lady Helen’s disappearance?”
“Me, m’laird?”
He spread his palms. “There’s nay other soul standing before me.”
“The first I heard of it was when Miss Sarah came to me and told me the bairn was missing—taken straight from her cradle, Miss Sarah said.”
“And where is Sarah now? I understand she went missing shortly before I returned.” At least that tidbit of information had been easy to wrest from the men.
The old woman hunched her shoulders. “I’ve no idea. But she…” Glenda glanced at Grant.
The guard rolled his hand forward, encouraging her to go on.
“Miss Sarah took a fancy to one of the MacGregor men.”
Aleck cast his gaze to the rafters. “A MacGregor? God save the lass if she’s chasing after that worthless mob of heathens.”
Glenda’s eyes flashed wide, then she quickly looked at the floor.
Aleck sat forward. “I take it you disagree with me.”
She shook her head. “No, m’laird.”
Aleck stood and glared at the cowering woman. “I think you do know to where Lady Helen absconded with my child.”
“Honestly.” She crossed herself. “I know not. They must have stolen away in the night. I heard nary a sound.”
The outer door opened and a messenger walked inside. “I’ve a missive for Sir Aleck MacIain.”
Another bloody missive? “From?” he demanded.
“Duntulm Castle. Mistress Mary has birthed a girl, m’lord.”
Glenda snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth.
For a moment, Aleck’s vision failed him. Mistress Mary was supposed to have birthed a lad. He clenched his fists. Were all his plans to be thwarted? He focused his gaze on Glenda. “Do you think this news is humorous?”
“No, m’laird.”
He clomped down the steps and towered over her. “You laughed. I heard you.”
“No, simply blew out my nose a bit too hard.” She curtseyed. “Forgive me m’laird.”
“You’re a liar.” Striking like a whip, Aleck backhanded the mouthy wench.
Glenda stumbled backward, snapping her hands to her face.
Grant stepped forward and pulled his mother behind him.
“Do not touch her,” Aleck roared. “I’ve not yet completed my inquisition.”
Grant faced him. “Leave her be, she confided to me she was as shocked about Lady Helen’s disappearance as everyone else.”
Aleck pointed to the door. “You may wait outside.”
Grant took one step back, then folded his arms. “You ken I’d give you my life, but my mother is old. I’ll take any punishment you choose to inflict upon her.”
Glenda stepped around him. “No, son.”
Aleck stepped toward the woman, ready to issue another strike.
Grant stepped in front of the woman, his jaw set. “I mean what I say. I’ll not stand by whilst you raise a hand against my mother.”