As Justin entered the great hall, he was well aware that someone was watching him closely. It made him a bit uneasy. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and the empty room seemed almost too quiet. He stopped where he was, next to the staircase leading to the top floor of suites.

He made no sound as he tried to hone in on the position of the other person. He could feel it. Smell it. Taste it in the air. The essence of evil. The presence of danger. It surrounded and penetrated his senses.

Suddenly he felt something brush his shoulder.

The man jumped and unsheathed the small dagger at his waist, pinning the intruder to the wall, his sharp knife against their throat.

As quickly as it had happened, Justin realized his folly. His eyes widened and he dropped his hand, replacing the weapon and sagging against the wall beside the woman. "Lindsay! What in the devil are you DOING out at this time of night?"

Lindsay, who was still breathing heavily, working to recover from the fright of the knife against her neck, could manage only to roll her head towards her friend and stare at him.

"I am sorry," he said easily. And he was sorry. He felt badly that he had frightened her, but she should know better than to sneak up on an armed man.

"I know...it's my own fault. Only..." she laughed, "I was trying not to frighten you by calling out your name."

Justin watched her face light up with amusement and he too laughed. "I'm afraid you did not succeed my friend." Again they giggled like children, teasing one another without words. Justin was the first to sober. "Did you need to speak with me?"

Brushing away a few strands of his blonde hair from his forehead, she frowned. "You're wet." She shrugged, dismissing her own remark as quickly as she had made it. "Actually..." Lindsay looked over his shoulder towards the great stone fireplace on the far side of the hall. "One of my ladies is supposed to rendezvous with a young man tonight. I had wanted to keep you from stumbling upon them. Young lovers do need their privacy." She said this almost wistfully and he wondered absently if she was thinking of McKinnon. Perhaps remembering some private moment that they had shared. The thought bothered him more than he cared to think about.

For lack of anything to say more than curiosity, Justin questioned her further. "Who, might I ask, are you working to protect from my interference?"

The woman shrugged. "I haven't a clue who the man is. Melanie refused to tell me. I can tell that she is quite taken with the boy, whomever it might be."

"Melanie?" Justin asked quietly. He was supposed to be meeting Melanie, but why would she not tell Lindsay? Was she meeting someone else instead? Perhaps she was ashamed to be involved with him - the child of a traitor. It made sense. The woman was half Scottish. Part of the McKinnon clan. And he had noticed that they seemed to live by their own codes of honor, that were still as yet unknown to the rest of the world. He could almost believe that, only he knew that lady Melanie was nothing like that. She was as forthright and true as they came.

Lindsay noted the recognition in his eyes. "Do you know her?"

He nodded.

"Well then...tell me!" She gushed. "I'm so curious. Who is it?"

"What?"

"Who is the man?" The excited look on her face caused him to grin. He could remember that smile from their childhood. The smile that she could never hold back. The one that made her look as though she might explode from the anticipation she struggled to hold within. "You must know! You always find out the best gossip from your Grandmother!"

That was surely true enough. She probably knew all about him and Melanie. He had never been sure how, but his mother's mother had always had a knack for knowing everything that was happening at any time in the village. Cheating men feared her, scheming women despised her, and children - especially the young men and women - loved her because she always knew what to say to make things seem bigger, better and brighter. Something hard to come by in their small world.

"Lindsay," he began, not sure how or even what to tell her.

Before he even had the chance to explain the situation, Melanie floated towards them, a bright smile on her face. "Justin. I was wondering when you might arrive back. How was your swim?"

"Very...refreshing." He cleared his throat and glanced away from both women.

"And Edward?"

"He is well. The cut was not so bad that it will hinder his movements. He is insisting that it is merely a scratch, but his wife is having none of that. She has his arm covered with so many ointments and bandages, it's a wonder that he can breathe properly.

Melanie smiled, but did not say anything further. Her eyes kept straying to Lindsay, who was eyeing them both with more than a little interest and suspicion. Her dark orbs asked him the silent question, you?

Justin nodded slightly and Lindsay's mouth curled into an overly bright smile. "Well...I'll just leave you two to... Goodnight."

"Goodnight milady. And thank you." Melanie called out as she rubbed her fingers along the soft fabric of her new gown's bodice. Justin watched his friend walk away and he also called out a soft farewell.

Taking lady Melanie's arm in his, Justin turned and guided them towards the sitting area by the fireplace so that they might sit and talk.

***

In the shadows of the hall, a dark figure pressed himself against the wall and smirked as Lindsay passed him.

She hadn't a clue that he was there. That he was but an arm's length away. That he could easily gut her and leave her for dead before she could even think to see who was causing the damage. Before her precious Justin would hear her whimpers. It was all too tempting.

The woman continued by and he held himself back, knowing that his lord would be none too happy if he killed Lady Lindsay. Instead, he watched on as the young man and woman sat on a bench beside the crackling fire, talking and laughing as if they had not a care in the world.

How innocent the boy looked. Not at all a look of the murderer that he was. No...Justin had them all fooled.

Turning sharply, having seen enough, the shadow melded into the darkness of the night.

***

Melanie and Justin?

Her lady's maid and her...best friend?

It was all too much to comprehend. She knew it to be truth. She saw it in Melanie's enamored gaze. Saw it in the easy way the two were with one another. It made her stomach uneasy.

Before she even registered that she had truly moved at all, she was at her bed chamber door. Her hand paused over the latch, wondering if McKinnon would be back yet. Though she still wasn't sure whether she wanted him to be or not.

There were nights when she hoped he would be eaten by wolves in the forest. And other nights when she wished for him to hold her, so that she might feel his soft skin and warm embrace. Tonight, she finally decided, wolves be damned. For once she was looking forward to seeing her husband.

As she stepped over the threshold, it was to see the man standing there in nothing but breeches, hair wet and looking more tensed than she had ever seen him.

"How are you this evening, husband?"

"Fine."

She rolled her eyes. Such conversational skills, her lover had. "Did you swim?" He nodded tightly causing her to sigh with slight frustration. "One day I will have to go with you." This remark earned her a glare.

Without preamble, the man stood from his chair and walked to the bed. "Good night Lindsay."

"Brian..."

"What?"

Choosing not to answer his question, she followed and slid into the bed beside him. He seemed to know what she wanted and pulled her into the circle of his arms. She nuzzled his shoulder, working to get comfortable and finally smiled with contentment.

Yet in the back of her mind she could still see them. If she strained hard enough, she was sure that she might even be able to hear them talking away downstairs. Laughing. Flirting.

"Lindsay..." Brian said softly. When she didn't respond, he yelled, "Lindsay!"

Startled, she stared at him with wide eyes. "What?" He glanced down and she followed his eyes to where her fingers lay on his chest, pinching his skin in a tight enraged grip. She pulled her hand back as if she had touched fire and noted four long, angry-looking marks from her fingernails. Tiny rivulets of blood pooled at the marks and she bit her lip. How was she going to explain this one?

Surprisingly, he did not seem to be too upset with her. Concern actually tinged his words as he asked, "What's wrong?"

Lindsay shook her head, not knowing what to say. Knowing that her husband would not take it very well to know that she was jealous of the two young lovers below them.

"I am overly tired."

Brian nodded, accepting the answer, though she was not so ignorant as to think that he believed her. He simply chose not to question her further.

Happy for the reprieve, she wiped the blood off of his chest with the hem of her gown and they settled in to sleep.