It came to him suddenly, like being hit in the head with a rock. The English threat must have been the reason for keeping Lara in the dark. Her father must not have wanted her caught in the middle of a battle if it came to that, but Dermot’s role made no sense. What was Lara’s dowry, and was it really worth killing for?

Too many unanswered questions clouded Bram’s mind. He feared that whatever Lara’s father was keeping from her put her in grave danger. He figured that Dermot must have found out his secret, and that was the reason he tried to rid himself of her. That would explain why he had sent men out after her. With no plan or army to help protect them, Bram and Lara were on their own and they could very well be heading right into the mouth of a dragon.

Chapter 16

Lara took a deep breath as she and Bram stood just outside the gates that led into the bailey of the Norse Castle. People rushed to and from the open courtyard as the gate guards stood watch. As they stepped under the portcullis and past the gate house, they entered into the heart of the courtyard.

Around them were a mass of buildings; storage rooms, stables, and a tall standing keep, the heart of the castle. With sculpted masonry and statues, the keep was a magnificent sight.

A man stood just outside the doorway as Lara approached the main entrance of the keep. She curtsied before speaking.

“Pardon my ignorance, Sir, but my name is Lara Fergusson Moray, and I have come to see my father, William Fergusson. I was told that he had journeyed here several weeks ago. Do ye ken how I could find him?”

“Lady Moray,” he said and bowed to her in return. “I am Godfrey, King Magnusson’s chancellor. I am afraid yer father is away with the king. He shall return tomorrow. For now, I am sure Queen Isobel would not mind yer presence until he returns. And who do ye be?”

“My name is Bram MacKinnon, brother to Laird MacKinnon of the Highlands.”

“Verra well. Follow me.”

Bram kept a keen eye on his surroundings for any sign of danger as they walked into the great hall. Bram had never been inside a royal place. The walls were draped in luxurious tapestries, and sconces lit up the room. Instead of fresh rushes, the floor was made of polished wood, and behind the tapestries the walls were painted a soft cream color. Similar to a church, the windows were covered with figured stained glass and created a rainbow of colors from the sunlight shining through them. It felt too rich for his blood. He was better off in the Highlands.

At the head of a very long table sat a woman holding her bairn and a guard standing on each side of her. Seeing that she was dressed in a fine garment with jewels dangling across her neck, it took Bram only moments to realize that the woman holding the babe was none other than the Queen of Norway.

“Your Highness, may I present Lara Fergusson Moray, daughter of William Fergusson and her escort Bram MacKinnon.”

“My lady, sir, I present to you Queen Isobel,” the chancellor announced.

Her dark green eyes went directly to Lara and widened as if she had seen a ghost. Her face turned grim as she pursed her lips together.

“Fergusson?”

“Aye, my lady,” Lara replied feeling the Queen’s cold gaze.

“I wish to speak to the lass. Leave us. Both of you,” Queen Isobel ordered, without taking her eyes off Lara. Suddenly, the room felt cold.

Before he could voice a dispute, the chancellor stood in front of Bram, blocking him from both the queen’s and Lara’s views. Leaving her was foolish and he would do no such thing. He was about to object when Lara looked over the chancellor’s shoulder and said, “I will nay be too long Bram, I promise.”

Lara looked back at the queen, whose sharp gaze bore down on her like a dagger. The queen continued to watch her until Bram and the chancellor left the room and closed the door.

Still holding the sleeping bairn, Queen Isobel asked, “You say William Fergusson is your father?”

“Aye, my Lady.”

“That is a very clever story. But I do no’ see why you had to lie to enter these gates. Were you sent here as a spy, or to help one of our enemies lay siege to our castle?”

The insult was overwhelming. Why would Lara lie about who she was? “William Fergusson is my father, yer Grace,” Lara argued.

“I dinna know how that could be, lass, for William only has one child, a son. If you truly are his daughter, then may I ask who your mother is?”

“My mother was Elsa, but she died when I was ten and two, my Lady.”

Queen Isobel continued to look at her in disbelief. “How old are ye?” she asked.

“Ten and seven.”

Lara had no idea what to think of her questions, or where they would lead, but they caused the pit of her stomach to ache. Why would she lie? Why wouldn’t her father mention that he had a daughter? It made no sense. Clearly, she did not trust Lara’s claim to be a Fergusson. She wanted to run away from this moment, from this place; but she had little choice in the matter until she spoke with her father. She wished Bram had not been escorted out of the room. She needed his strength.

“If you are who you say you are, we will find out in due time. For now, you can stay in one of our guest rooms until William and my husband return. You will not be allowed to wander freely around the castle. If you need something, I will have one of my maids tend to it, and a guard to escort you when needed. I expect my husband to arrive in the early hours of the morning. At that time we will meet again.” Speaking louder, she called out to a guard positioned just outside the door. “Take Lady Moray and her escort to the guest rooms on the third floor. Make sure Alba tends to their needs.”

“Aye, my lady,” he responded and escorted her out the door.

“Is everything alright? Are ye well?” Bram asked.

Lara shook her head, but looked back at the guard. She did not wish to speak in front of him. Bram wrapped an arm around her shoulders while they followed the guard up three flights of stairs. Once they reached the top floor, they walked down a corridor, lined with several closed doors. Eventually they reached the door at the end of the long hallway.

“This will be your room,” the guard announced to Lara. “The next door down will be yours,” he said, looking at Bram. “I will send Alba to your rooms with food and drink. There will be a guard posted at the end of the hallway if you are in need of something.”

“Thank ye,” Bram said, as the guard walked away, leaving them alone outside the bedchamber door.

Before she had time to think, Lara threw herself into Bram’s arms sobbing. Bram held her close and walked with her inside the chamber before closing the door. Walking her to the bed, he helped her to sit down.

“What happened, lass? What did she say to upset ye?”

Through sniffles and tears, Lara replied, “The queen was just awful, and said the most wicked things. She called me a liar. She said that I could no’ be my father’s daughter. Why would she think I would lie about that?”

Bram frowned back at her, wishing he could take away her heartache and tears. “I dinna ken, lass.”

“She said that my father and the king were away and will no’ arrive here until the morning.”

“Then we will wait. Dinna worry, lass. I will no’ leave ye. We will figure this out together.”

That declaration made Lara smile and begin to feel better. She knew that Bram would be by her side. In her whole life, no man, not even her own father, had shown as much compassion towards her as Bram had shown her in just one week.

Lara leaned her head against his big arm, and together they sat in silence, waiting for the maid to enter with their meal.