"May I borrow it?"

Iain reluctantly let him have the weapon. John turned, and carrying the sword in one hand, he dangled the knapsack in the other as he slowly approached the table where Alford waited.

The baron started to stand, but John ordered him to stay seated. "This day has been filled with disappointments," he remarked, his voice as cold as a winter's eve.

"Then you didn't find the treasure after all?" Alford asked, and the smile was there in his eyes. When John didn't answer him, Alford assumed he'd been right. "Must the Highlanders be here, my lord?" he called out.

John noticed how agitated Hugh and Edwin were. They kept giving the lairds furtive glances, showing their obvious trepidation. The king glanced at Iain Maitland but the laird wasn't looking at him. Nay, his eyes seemed to glow with his hatred, and his gaze, like Laird Buchanan's, was locked on his prey.

"Do they frighten you, Alford?" John drawled as he tilted his head toward the Highlanders.

They did make Alford nervous, but he also was feeling quite smug because he knew they couldn't do him any harm. If one of them reached for his sword, his men and the king's guard would strike them down.

"No, they don't frighten me, but they are… uncivilized."

"Don't be inhospitable," John chided.

Gripping the knapsack in one hand and Iain's sword in the other, John began to slowly circle the table. "Today has brought back all the pain," he said then, and turning to the lairds, he offered an explanation. "I've only loved one woman, and her name was Arianna. My dearest friend, Alford, brought her to me and I fell instantly in love with her. I believe she loved me too," he added. "And I would have found a way to marry her."

He stopped pacing and dropped the knapsack on the table in front of Alford.

"Open it," he commanded.

Alford turned the knapsack upside down and watched the contents spill out on the table. The box rolled out of the tunic.

John told him what was inside. "My dagger is on the bottom. I sent it with the squire for Arianna to cut a lock of her golden hair. Do you remember, Alford?"

Before Alford could answer, John continued. "On top of my dagger is a lock of her hair. Tell me, Alford, what's on top of the hair?"

"I… I don't know," Alford stuttered.

"Yes you do. Your dagger."

"No, it's not mine," Alford shouted.

John slowly began to walk around the table. "No? Your crest is on the handle."

"Someone… stole my dagger… Gillian's father must have…"

John's voice lashed out like a whip. "Her father wasn't in court, but you were, Alford. You killed her."

"No, I didn't…"

John pounded the tabletop with his fist. "If you want to live, you will tell me the truth."

"If I want to live…"

"I won't kill you as long as you tell me the truth," John promised. "I want to know exactly what happened, but first you will admit it to me. You killed her, didn't you?"

"She was going to betray you," he stammered. "She wouldn't listen to my… counsel… and she was determined to come between you and your advisers. I sought only to protect my king. She had gone mad with power because she knew… yes, she knew she could control you."

"I want to know exactly what happened," the king demanded, his voice shaking with fury.

"I went to her chamber to reason with her, and she mocked me, my lord. Aye, she did. Your squire carried in the box and put it on the table. It was open and your dagger was inside. The squire didn't see me, and after he left, Arianna took your dagger and cut a lock of her hair. She put the dagger and the hair in the box-"

"And you continued to reason with her?" John demanded.

"Yes, but she wouldn't listen. She swore she wouldn't let anyone get in her way. She attacked me, and I had to defend myself."

"And so you cut her throat."

"It was an accident. I'll admit I panicked. Your squire had returned and was pounding on the door, and without thinking, I threw my dagger in the box and closed it. I was going to tell you. Yes, yes, I was," Alford cried out.

"And because you had a key to the chamber, your escape was so simple, wasn't it? You locked the door and took the box to your chamber. Is that right, Alford?"

"Yes."

"And then you consoled me when I found her body-good friend that you are."

"I was going to confess, but you were so distraught, I decided to wait."

"No, you decided to blame the Baron of Dunhanshire."

"Yes," Alford admitted, trying to sound contrite. "Gillian's father had come to my estate to discuss the common land we shared. He saw the box when he came into the hall unannounced but pretended he hadn't, and the second my back was turned, he stole it. He was going to keep it for himself," he ended.

"You didn't believe that," John muttered. "You knew he would bring it to me, didn't you, Alford? And so you lay siege to Dunhanshire and killed him to silence him."

"I had to kill Arianna," Alford repeated. "She would have destroyed you."

"Me?" the king shouted. He couldn't continue the game any longer. He stood behind Alford now and raised Iain's sword. "The Devil take you," he screamed as he thrust the blade through Alford's back.

The baron rigidly arched up and then slowly fell forward. John stepped back, his chest heaving with rage. The room was deathly quiet as John picked up the box and walked toward the door.

"Your son has been avenged," he told Iain Maitland as he motioned to his soldiers to follow him.

Hugh, who had been cowering behind the soldiers, called out to him. "My king, Edwin and I had no part in Alford's treachery."

John ignored his baron. As he was striding past the three lairds, he said, "They're all yours."

The door closed as Iain and Ramsey and Brodick slowly advanced.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Ramsey and Brodick weren't easily embarrassed or intimidated, but by the time Baron Morgan Chapman finished giving them a piece of his mind and a thorough tongue-lashing, the lairds were clearly mortified.

And men enough to admit it. Although they both wanted to argue with the crusty old man, they didn't dare because they had been taught to respect their elders, but Morgan was making it difficult for them with his wild accusations.

It seemed to take him forever to get to the heart of the matter. He stood facing the lairds with his arms folded and acted like a father who was chastising his boys. It was damned humiliating, but Ramsey and Brodick suffered through it.

"I've lived a peaceful life, but in the past two days I've heard enough wailing and carrying on by two very angry young ladies to last me a lifetime. You had the gall to dump them in my lap and send them home with me, and I swear to you my ears were ringing by the time we arrived. But did it end there?"

Ramsey made the mistake of guessing it didn't and shook his head, gaining him a scowl and a blasphemy from the cantankerous baron.

"Nay," he ranted. "The sweet lasses had only just got started. I thought about taking to my bed, but I knew they'd follow me." Nodding to Brodick, he declared, "You've broken my Gillian's heart, and she wants never to see you again."

"Then she can keep her eyes closed, but I assure you she's going home with me."

"You married in haste."

"I knew what I wanted, and I took it."

"It? We're talking about my niece, aren't we?"

"Yes, sir, we are."

"She says you gave her your word, and then you broke it."

"Yes."

"She believes you used her."

"I did."

"Hell, man, you could at least explain why."

"You know why," Brodick countered. "I couldn't allow her to be in such danger. If anyone should be angry, it is I, for she recklessly followed me."

Morgan threaded his fingers through his white hair. "She doesn't believe you love her, and she insists she's going to live here with me."