by Willa Blair
“Is that the betrothal contract?” Jamie demanded, ignoring Fletcher’s question. “Surely ye dinna intend to marry yer daughter to a man who beats her and locks her up.”
Fletcher waved him off with a sigh. “I’ll marry her off to any man I please. ’Tis my right as her father and her laird.”
He seemed subdued, distracted, but Jamie had no patience for him if the paper before him gave Caitrin to MacGregor. “’Tis yer responsibility to see she’s safe and well cared for,” Jamie responded. He kept his voice even though anger tensed every muscle in his body. He reached the desk in two strides, and snatched the paper from under Fletcher’s hand.
Not the contract.
Jamie could have passed out from the relief that flooded him. The tension eased from his muscles as he scanned the document. “Merely a letter. Who is this?”
“No’ that it’s any of yer business, Lathan, but Rabbie is a cousin who lives nearby. I think he can be trusted, and I’m asking for his assistance, should we need it, to keep Caitrin from MacGregor until all this unpleasantness can be put behind us.”
Finally! So Caitrin’s confinement had accomplished what her bruises had not. “Is that where ye sent Uilleam after we arrived here? Or did ye send him back to Fletcher?”
“He’s on Fletcher business. Ye needna concern yerself with him.”
Jamie nodded. He’d concede that to Fletcher in order to gain what he’d come for.
“I’m pleased to hear ye making contingency plans,” Jamie told him, handing the document back. Jamie’s spirits rose when Fletcher set it aside and gestured him to take a seat.
“Ye seem to think I’m some heartless bastard who’ll sell his daughter to the highest bidder.” Fletcher cocked an eyebrow, as though daring Jamie to refute that.
Jamie inclined his head, conceding that point as well. “Ye have given me cause for concern…a time or two,” he continued as Fletcher started to interrupt. “But I believe ye love yer daughter and want to see her well placed, for her sake as well as Fletcher’s.”
Fletcher cleared his throat. “I imagine ’tis no’ great stretch to think ye Lathans have also been making plans.”
Jamie nodded. “Of course. After ye were injured, it seemed the wisest course was to be ready for anything. Has it occurred to ye that upon Caitrin’s marriage, MacGregor would consider ye a liability?”
Fletcher grimaced and nodded.
Jamie continued, “I thought it prudent to be prepared to get Caitrin away, especially if anything happened to ye. As ye seemed to believe might be the case when ye made her my responsibility.”
“Uilleam is due back tonight. In fact, when ye burst in, I thought ye might be him.” Fletcher paused for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. “Will ye ride with him on the morrow to my cousin? That way both of ye will ken how to find an ally, and a safe place to put Caitrin until ye can get her back to Fletcher.”
Jamie hesitated then decided if Fletcher had started planning escape routes, he’d best take advantage. This might be the best opportunity he’d have to lay his cards on the table and have Fletcher agree, or at least not disagree. “If the worst happens, she’ll no’ be safe at Fletcher,” he began. When Fletcher didn’t object, he plunged ahead. “I’ve a mind to take her to the Aerie.”
“Under what conditions?”
“I’ll pay MacGregor the bride price and marry her myself.” Jamie hoped Fletcher would respond better to that sort of offer than to a declaration of love.
“Now just a minute—” He leaned forward.
“She’ll never be safe with him. I think ye are beginning to see that. We care for each other. Marriage into Lathan will strengthen the bond between our clans and help protect ye from MacGregor reprisal.”
“And make ye consort to the laird after I am dead. Is that what ye are really after? Should I be as concerned about yer ambition as MacGregor’s?”
“What? Nay.” Truthfully, the idea had never occurred to Jamie. “I…” Oh, the hell with being circumspect. “I love Caitrin. I wish to marry her, and no’ because she’s yer heir. If that worries ye, name Uilleam, or someone else, to succeed ye. I dinna wish ye dead. I saved yer life. Have ye forgotten that?”
Fletcher grimaced. “If word of this gets back to MacGregor…”
“It willna. And with the number of clans already signed to Toran’s treaty, Lathan is a formidable foe. MacGregor will go to war at his own peril.”
“Ye have thought this through, then.”
“Aye, many times, since I first saw Caitrin again at Fletcher. We cared for each other as children. That hasna changed. Ye must ken I will take good care of her.”
“I will think on it,” he said, his fingers steepled before him. “While I do, ye’ll meet Uilleam in the great hall in the morning and go with him.”
“I will.” Jamie could barely keep the elation out of his voice. He must appear calm and reasonable, not like a jubilant lad. “My men will continue to watch over Caitrin while I am out of the keep.” He turned to go, then turned back. “Ye should ken one other thing. The man who killed my sister may be here. I saw a lass wearing her hair comb today.”
Fletcher’s eyes widened. “Ye must be mistaken. That happened…five years ago.”
“I carved it. I am no’ mistaken. The lass claims to have gotten it from another lass, who may have gotten it from her husband. With the number of men killed at Flodden, the murderer may be dead. But it’s another reason to get Caitrin away from here, just as the Lathan did when he sent her home five years ago.”
Fletcher nodded. “That’s worrisome news, but as ye say, likely the perpetrator died in ’13. Let me finish this letter to my cousin so Uilleam can carry it tomorrow.” He seemed unconcerned, even ungrateful, that Lathans had guarded his daughter and were determined to keep her safe.
A sudden fear chased the elation out of Jamie and chilled him to the bone. What did Fletcher really want? Had Jamie overplayed his hand by declaring his intent to marry Caitrin? The news about his sister’s hair comb had surprised Fletcher, but Jamie had expected it to convince him to call off the betrothal and begin preparations to leave. Yet he seemed unruffled.
Could Fletcher intend to get him out of the keep in order to let the betrothal proceed without his interference? He wished he hadn’t agreed to go with Will. Though, truth be told, arranging a safe haven made sense, as did making sure he knew the way there. Just so long as Fletcher didn’t do anything foolish while he was gone.
Jamie cursed his lack of certainty. He risked Caitrin if he left her subject to the MacGregor for too long. Dare he call Fletcher on it? If he was wrong, if Fletcher was sincere, Jamie’s suspicions would insult the man. Torn, he decided he’d better not disturb the accord they’d reached. His men would keep her from harm until he returned. He nodded and took his leave.
But on the way to his chamber, he told Kyle what Fletcher had asked him to do and ordered him to have Ewan ready to ride in the morning with a message for the Lathan. It was time to let Toran know his plans were coming to naught.
Chapter Sixteen
Jamie made his way to Caitrin’s door. He intended, as he and the other Lathans had been doing, to simply walk past, as though on his way elsewhere, but someone new stood guard. The man hailed him.
“Ye’re Jamie Lathan, aye?”
“I am.”
“I’m Malcolm. Lady Caitrin has been asking for ye.”
Jamie kept his surprise off his face. “Are ye no’ meant to keep visitors out?”
“Others, aye, but no’ ye. I’m on the lady’s side in this. I saw what the laird did, too late to stop him.” Malcolm opened the door. “I ken what he’s done to other lasses. Go on in. I’ll let ye know if he approaches.”
“Jamie!”
The sound of Caitrin’s voice convinced him to take Malcolm up on his offer, if only for a moment. He couldn’t think why MacGregor would want to set him and Caitrin up in this fashion, so he chose to trust Malcolm’s discretion. Once he’d talked
to her, Jamie should get the information from Malcolm. It might finally convince Fletcher to end this farce. But Caitrin awaited. With a nod to the man, he entered her chamber and closed the door behind him. She was in his arms as soon as it latched.
“I got what ye need,” she murmured into his chest.
“Are ye well?” Then he realized what she’d said. “What do ye mean, ye got what I need?” He tightened his arms around her then released her and led her to a seat by the hearth.
“I’m well,” she told him as she settled herself. “But ye must find a way into Alasdair’s solar. I hid the documents I copied behind the upper tapestry, in the loops of the lower one.”
“What documents? What are ye talking about?”
“War plans. One lists the wealth of the neighboring clans. The other is a map showing the disposition of MacGregor forces against his neighbors. It’s all there.” She shook her head then fixed him with a bold stare. “He never meant to sign the Lathan treaty. As I told ye.”
Jamie dropped into the chair opposite hers, flummoxed. “Ye say ye made copies?”
“Aye. If I took his, he’d miss them.” She sat forward, expression intent. “It’s why I stayed there so late. I lost track of time. The moon was so bright I didn’t realize when dawn approached until it was too late. I’d barely secreted my copies and gone to the door to leave when MacGregor came in.”
“Caitrin.” Jamie sat back, aghast, yet overcome with admiration. “Ye amaze me. What a risk ye took. I never meant for ye to try such a foolish thing.”
“I didna think he would lock me up. I thought he’d believe my story about wanting to watch the moon set. Even Da backed me up, though he didna ken what I was doing there. After the last time we talked, I wanted to find proof ye and Da would believe.”
Jamie scrubbed a hand over his face. “Retrieving yer copies will no’ be so simple, now he’s suspicious of why ye were there. MacGregor locked ye up, but if he caught me in his solar, he’d kill me on the spot—or try to. For all we ken, he’s taken to sleeping in that room, waiting to see what else we’ll do.”
Caitrin shrugged. “Then we must wait him out.”
“That may be easier done than ye think. Yer da wants me to ride out with Uilleam in the morning to visit a cousin named Rabbie he says is an ally. If we need to get ye out of this keep in a hurry, Fletcher believes ye can hide there until it’s safe to move ye home.”
“But ye said I wouldna be safe there.”
“I said the same to yer da.” Jamie took a breath, then leaned forward, and took her hands in his. “I told him I planned to take ye to the Aerie. To marry ye and pay MacGregor the bride price.”
“Jamie!” Caitrin’s wide eyes didn’t tell him whether the idea pleased her or shocked her.
“Hush, lass. Malcolm will hear ye.” She frowned, and his heart sank.
“What did Da say to that?”
He shook his head. “That he would think on it while I go with Will. As long as he doesna plan to go forward with the betrothal while I’m out of the way, all will be well.”
“He wouldna. Would he?”
“I dinna ken, except he’s had Will out of the keep for a reason he wouldna explain. He may have visited the cousin already to see where his loyalties lie. So if yer da is already making plans for yer safety, I have to believe he doesna intend to go through with it.”
At Caitrin’s sigh, Jamie pulled her into his lap. “I dinna ken how far to the cousin’s, or how long I’ll be away. But my men have been keeping watch on yer guards. If MacGregor calls for ye or comes to see ye, they’ll ken it and do what’s needful to keep ye safe. He’ll no’ hit ye again, I promise ye.”
“Malcolm may help, as well. He’s done what he can for me.” Caitrin rested her head on his shoulder. “This could all be over in a day or two, if all goes well, aye?”
Jamie rubbed his hand up and down her back. “Aye.” Then, with a finger under her chin, he lifted her lips to his. Ach, sweetness! Hers was the taste he craved. He pulled her more tightly against him, and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him harder until he eased her off his lap and stood, still holding her against him.
“I wish I could stay, lass. But Malcolm awaits outside the door. I should go.”
“But I willna see ye for days.”
“Or I could be back tomorrow night. Either way, dinna fash. But do what ye must to avoid Alasdair.”
“I will.”
****
MacGregor studied the young Lathan soldier, Ewan, his men had unhorsed, surrounded and bound with his hands behind his back. The chase had taken longer than he expected, but the delay hadn’t saved this unfortunate lout. It had only served to rile his captor’s temper.
“Ye made the mistake of telling the stable boy ye were riding out with a message for yer laird,” MacGregor informed him, walking slowly toward him once he’d dismounted. “I’ve been waiting for just such an opportunity.”
“The message I carry willna interest ye.”
MacGregor smiled, then back-handed his face, leaving a satisfying handprint. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He snapped his fingers, but his men just shrugged. “He doesna carry a note? Then ye have the message.”
The lad had stones. He managed to meet MacGregor’s gaze for at least three heartbeats before he dropped his gaze to his feet. “What do ye intend to do with me?”
Ah, the crux of the matter, then. MacGregor didn’t bother with an answer. “What message do ye carry? And where did the Lathan envoy and the Fletcher ghillie go? They left MacGregor the same time as ye.”
Ewan shook his head, sadly it seemed. “I dinna ken. Jamie only said to give his regards to Toran. We were to send word to assure Laird Lathan of our well-being.”
MacGregor had been forced to give the two men time to get well away before pursuing the lone Lathan, an inconvenient delay that still rankled. They might only have gone hunting, but that seemed unlikely. He’d had them followed.
“Toran Lathan, laird of the Aerie. Yer home, aye?” The lad’s gaze lifted to meet his, and MacGregor read the first glimmerings of concern in his eyes. Good.
“Nay, laird. I live in a croft beholden to Lathan.”
“Ye lie.”
“Why would I? A croft is a humble place to hail from.”
“Very well, let’s agree for the moment ye live in a croft. But ye are a Lathan soldier. Surely ye have been in the Aerie many times.”
“Aye, of course.”
“Always in and out through the main gates?”
Watching the color drain from his face pleased MacGregor.
“Aye.”
MacGregor hit him again, this time with his fist. The crack of something breaking—the lad’s jaw, or perhaps only a few teeth—sounded sweet to his ears. Ewan drooled blood. Ah, the jaw then. Another inconvenience. He would have difficulty speaking through the pain.
Unless MacGregor gave him something that caused him to forget that pain. He drew his favorite thin-bladed knife.
Ewan’s eyes’ grew big and round and he whimpered.
“Always through the main gates?”
MacGregor could barely believe his eyes when the lad nodded.
“Never through a another gate? A hidden gate?”
The lad’s head moved from side to side, slowly.
MacGregor laid the blade along the break in his jaw and pushed gently. His shriek was satisfying, but MacGregor wanted more.
“Tell me how to get in to the Aerie unseen.”
“Ah..ca…canna.”
“Canna? Or willna?”
“Ca…ca…canna. Dinna…ken.”
“I think ye do.”
“N…nay.”
“Ye will tell me, Ewan Lathan,” MacGregor announced as he slit open the lad’s shirt. “The faster ye tell me, the easier will be yer death. If ye make me continue to ask ye the same question, over and over again, I’ll make ye suffer. Over and over again.”
Tears leaked from the lad’s ey
es, but he held his silence.
“Ye willna be saved. The envoy expects ye to be gone for days.” MacGregor signaled to one of his men to unbuckle the lad’s belt and strip him of his plaid. In moments, he stood naked and shivering, chill bumps—from cold or fear, it didn’t matter—breaking out all over his skin. Satisfied, MacGregor ordered his men to return to the keep. He watched them ride off then turned back to his prisoner. “Aye, I sent them away. Their constitutions are more delicate than mine. And ye canna harm me. Nor can ye outrun me. Now what was I saying? Aye, by the time the envoy returns to the Aerie and discovers ye never arrived, my army will be right behind him. Yer clansmen will be too busy to search for ye, and then they’ll be dead, too, and none will care what befell ye.”
“N-n-nay.”
“Ye think to plead with me? Surely, ye realize by now ye willna escape. Ye have so few breaths remaining. Dinna waste them.”
“N-na-nay.”
“Where is the secret way into the Aerie?”
The lad didn’t answer, not that MacGregor expected him to…yet. He started cutting. The lad whimpered and hummed, fighting screams, then suddenly coughed and spat a mouthful of blood—and meat—onto MacGregor before collapsing to the ground. MacGregor looked from the mess on his clothes to the lad’s crumpled body and back again.
“Ye bastard. Ye bit through yer tongue! All to protect yer clan’s greatest secret instead of yer life?” He knelt by the lad, heedless of the blood, and rolled him onto his back, then continued cutting as he talked. “Oh, aye, lying with yer hands underneath ye like that looks uncomfortable. It strains the shoulders, too, of course. No’ that it matter. I did tell ye yer life was forfeit, so I suppose ye had little choice but to render yerself incapable of speech. Well, I’m impressed. How did ye manage that with a broken jaw?” Another thought occurred to him, and he twisted the lad’s head to the side and pulled his lower jaw down, heedless of the agony he caused. “Can’t have ye drown in yer own blood.”
Ewan’s wordless screams echoed through the woods for a long time.
****
Uilleam talked even less on the trip to cousin Rabbie’s than he had on the trip from Fletcher. Jamie still wasn’t sure if his stony silence was habitual or due to his distrust of Jamie’s intentions. Either way, he counted himself lucky the cousin lived only a few hours’ ride from the MacGregor keep. Near enough to hide Caitrin in the confusion of an escape, but far enough to be only one of many places they could have gone. And not in a direct line of travel to Fletcher or to the Aerie, which were the directions MacGregor would likely send his men if Caitrin and her father suddenly disappeared.