And yet if Maclean was right, it should be easy enough to prove by Morneith’s response to several questions.
Still, he was not happy about leaving Felicia here in an enemy’s camp. He instinctively believed the Maclean, but he had believed others before and turned out to be wrong. Neither did he like the way Maclean looked at Felicia. The man’s face was difficult to read, but earlier there had been a brief flash of anger and desire when he and Felicia had greeted one another. It had lasted so briefly that he was not even sure he’d seen it. A flicker, nothing more, before the Maclean’s expression had been controlled again.
“She is safer here,” the Maclean added. He’d obviously seen the displeasure in his prisoner’s eyes.
“I am not so sure of that.”
“She disappeared once. Do you believe your father would give her another chance? He might well try to wed her immediately.”
Jamie knew that was exactly what he would do. Still, it went against all he was to leave her here. “I want to talk to her first. Alone.”
The Maclean frowned.
“I will not go otherwise,” Jamie said.
“Aye, you can see her,” Rory conceded reluctantly.
“And what do I tell my father?”
“That you were able to escape, but she was not.”
“He will ask the king to demand her release.”
“I am hoping that you can expose Morneith before he has a chance to act.”
Jamie was beset by even more doubts. “Why would you risk so much for a Campbell lass?”
“I told you. I feel responsible for her plight. Honor demands that I set it right.”
“And in doing so, perhaps solve another problem,” Jamie said, cynicism lacing his words. “I would not depend on currying favor with my father, if I were you. Or the king. Both of us could end without our heads. Mine, though, would be in the most imminent peril.”
The Maclean did not argue the point.
“When do I leave?” Jamie finally asked.
“Tonight.”
“But I see my cousin alone first.”
“She cannot know the plan.”
“No,” Jamie agreed. He did not enjoy the moment of understanding that flashed between them. Yet he could not fault the Maclean’s reasoning.
“Your brother, Lachlan, is he to be trusted completely?”
The Maclean hesitated a second too long before saying, “Aye. I would not commit him if not.”
It was a warning, intended or not, that gave Jamie pause. Still, he did not see a choice. Too much was at stake.
The Maclean studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I will take you to her now.” The Maclean’s voice hardened slightly, and again Jamie wondered what had transpired since Felicia entered this keep.
The supper gong rang, but no one had invited her to leave this chamber. Felicia had put on one of the dresses Moira had provided and had brushed her cropped hair until it fairly glowed.
Then she had sat and waited. Surely Lachlan would come for her, even if Rory did not.
The laird had been avoiding her since learning her identity. That much was clear. She ached inside that such was true. She missed him, missed the piercing gaze and gentle touch. A surge of warmth flowed through her as she remembered his lips on hers, the way her body responded to his.
An agonizing pain caught in her chest, even as she knew how foolish it was. Rory was her family’s enemy, and they had known each other only briefly. How could she have such strong feelings? She tried to tell herself it was only that no one had paid her heed before. She was reacting to an admiration that was new to her. Her heart was not involved. Only her pride.
She kept telling herself that.
Then why did she feel such a devastating loss?
She tried to concentrate on Jamie. What did Rory plan to do with him?
She could not imagine anything terrible. He could be hard and cold, but there was also something tender and vulnerable in him.
Or did she only imagine it?
A knock came at the door, and her heart lurched.
Jamie entered. Alone. She felt a disgraceful disappointment that Rory was not with him.
Jamie regarded her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. “Are you really unharmed?” he asked.
“I am,” she said softly. “No one has been unkind, not even when they discovered I was a Campbell.”
“And the Maclean?”
“He has ensured my comfort,” she said.
“He has not … forced his attentions …”
“Nay,” she said, and it was not a lie. She had invited his attentions, but she could not tell Jamie that.
He lifted her chin with a fisted hand to look into her eyes.
“You look sad.”
“I was worried about you.”
“What happened to your hair?”
“I cut it.”
“I noticed,” he said wryly. “The question then is why?”
She did not want to answer that.
“Felicia?”
She knew him well enough to understand he would wait for an answer. “I was going to dress as a boy and try to leave when the gates opened yesterday morning.”
“And why did you not?”
“I saw them bring you in.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “And you were going to try to save me?”
“I hoped, and then I decided—” She stopped.
“Decided what?” he urged gently.
“To plead with the Maclean to release you.”
“And what did he say?”
“Nothing,” she said miserably.
“You thought he might allow me to leave? Just because you asked. Why would that be?”
She did not reply. He would hate the fact that she had pleaded for him. Yet he only looked at her with that quizzical expression.
“Be cautious about who you trust, Felicia,” he said.
“What is he going to do with you?”
He shrugged. “Keep me as a hostage,” he said.
“You have not been mistreated?”
“Nay.”
“Have you given your parole?”
Something flickered in his eyes. “No. But I am well guarded, and he knows no one can leave Inverleith without his permission.”
“Your father will be furious.”
“He often is.”
“With the Macleans, I mean.”
“Does that worry you?”
“Aye. There are children here. And people who have done no wrong other than to live on Maclean land.”
He raised an eyebrow at her defense. “The same might be said of Campbell tenants.”
“I do not want anyone hurt because of my foolishness.”
“I only wish I had been at Dunstaffnage,” he said softly.
“You could not have done anything for me there. My only chance was to find you in London without anyone knowing.”
“Ah, my little lioness. I can imagine no other woman attempting what you did.”
“You are not angry with Janet?”
“For helping you? Nay. I think more of her.”
“Oh Jamie, I am so glad. I was afraid …”
“Do you have so little faith in me, then?” he asked, his lips turned in a frown.
She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He was the only person who had loved her since her mother and father had died. He had been her knight as a child, and a dear friend and brother later.
“Oh no,” she said. “I do have faith in you.”
“Promise me something.”
She looked up at him.
“Never forget what you just said. Always know that I love you. I will always protect you.”
A shiver ran through her. She had the strangest feeling he was trying to tell her something he could not put into words.
“I trust you,” she said simply.
It was then she noticed that the Maclean had entered the room and was staring at them with those inscruta
ble eyes.
Chapter 19
Jamie gazed down at the lass who had come to mean so much to him. He remembered when she had first arrived at Dunstaffnage. She had but five years and was obviously frightened and bewildered.
But still she had marched up to him, stared at him for a long time, then announced quite solemnly that she expected him to be her champion. It had been pure bravado. He had smiled then, and she had made him smile many times since. Smiles had been rare before she appeared.
His life had been training and discipline. His mother and father were often at court, and his guidance came from a sour steward and a number of demanding tutors and instructors in arms. Not long after Felicia arrived, he found her outside the room where the tutoring sessions were held. Even though the material was advanced, she had a thirst for knowledge that always eluded him. He had been amused, though, and insisted that she be allowed to stay for the sessions.
As she grew older, she would watch him practice with the broadsword and other weapons and, at twelve, had asked him to show her how to do it.
The sword had been almost as long as she was tall, and yet she had worked at swinging it and using a shield. She continued until she could best at least a few of the worst Campbell soldiers. Her size helped. She could dart in and out while others were hampered by heavy armor.
She had a dogged determination that amused and endeared her to nearly every soldier. Her desire to help often ended in disaster. Once when she decided the food was too bland, she added huge amounts of mustard. Every man was sneezing and wheezing.
’Twas not so long after that that his father secured a good cook.
All those thoughts went through his head as he looked down at her and knew that on the morrow she would feel betrayed by him. He wondered, not for the first time, whether he should tell her of the plan, but he was only too aware of her impulsiveness.
So he returned her hug, feeling awkward as he did so. His family did not indulge in gestures of affection. Although she would often throw her arms around him, he never initiated such gestures. Nor had he with Janet.
Then he became aware of the man behind him.
He had discovered what he wanted to know. Felicia had no fear of Rory Maclean, nor any of the Macleans. Though he was loath to leave her here, he had no other solution. She should be safe enough.
“I think my warden has returned,” Jamie said. “I must go.”
She turned and looked at the Maclean. Her heart was in her eyes, and suddenly he realized that …
It could not be. Not a Campbell and a Maclean. Neither family would tolerate it. Then there was the curse. No Maclean wife …
No!
He swore then he would return and take Felicia to live with Janet and himself.
Rory had opened the door, not expecting to see Felicia in the Campbell’s arms, nor to hear Jamie Campbell’s softly spoken words, “I love you,” and her response, “I trust you.” What had she said before he entered?
Words that he would have liked to hear, and never would. She would learn of what he had planned, putting her love in harm’s way and keeping the secret from her.
She would never forgive him, even when she realized they had done it for her. Particularly then.
He controlled his reaction to the scene in front of him. Felicia made no attempt to step away from the Campbell. Instead, she seemed to move closer, as if for protection.
Trust. Well he neither deserved it nor did he need it. He had his own life to live, and she could be no part of it.
He turned his gaze to the Campbell. “It is time to return,” he said shortly.
Campbell looked back down at Felicia. “Remember what I told you.”
Felicia frowned as if she sensed all was not as it appeared. He’d noticed earlier that she missed little and was uncommonly sensitive to nuances. Now her gaze moved from man to man. Questions were in her eyes.
Campbell saw it as well. He turned to Rory. “My thanks for the visit,” he said.
“I trust it put your mind to ease as to her treatment,” Rory replied.
“As much as it could be, seeing that she is in the hands of Macleans,” Campbell replied.
He turned then and left the room. Rory lingered a moment. “I have ordered supper sent up to you.”
She looked up at him with the solemn blue eyes that always affected him in a ridiculously heady way. He ached to share supper with her, but he knew by now the way she affected him, the odd way his heart shifted whenever he looked into her face.
He also was not certain how she would be greeted as a Campbell, despite his warning to Douglas. He did not want her hurt any more than necessary. And he had few doubts that tonight—the escape of her cousin without her—would be wounding to her.
Yet it was the only way he knew to keep her safe.
“Good eve, my lady. You will let Robina know if you need anything?”
“I can see Alina?”
“Yes.”
As he shut the door behind him, he knew he could not shut out the forlorn expression on her face.
Lachlan sat next to his brother at the head of the table. Though supper was long over, everyone lingered, as they sought comfort in their numbers.
Drink flowed. Gloom turned to boasting. The Campbell’s capture and the possibility of a siege was both heady and sobering. Laughter was louder than usual. War was an adventure, the rightful pastime of warriors, but this time they would be going against a king’s favorite and mayhap the king himself.
The hall was far more crowded than usual. The women from the outlying villages sat quietly, their eyes worried and their voices silent.
In truth, Rory would have liked being anywhere else, but he knew it was important that he give the image of confidence, particularly when all the keep learned of the Campbell’s escape and they would soon learn of Lachlan’s betrayal in the morning.
Had he spun a web that could entrap even the spider?
Lachlan was quiet, no doubt thinking about the evening ahead.
Rory turned to him. “You are sure about this?”
“Aye.”
“You will come to me if you need anything. I will be telling Douglas after you are gone, and swear him to secrecy. Someone other than myself should know.”
Lachlan nodded.
Rory returned to his food but he could not eat. He was gambling with at least three lives, perhaps more.
“Visit the lass,” he said finally. “Take her down to see the filly.”
Lachlan looked surprised at the change of subject. “May I ask why?”
“I suspect she feels very much alone.”
“You could take her,” Lachlan said.
“I believe she would prefer you.”
Lachlan shook his head. “I do not think so, brother, but I will do as you ask.” His expression said he suspected the real reason, that Rory no longer trusted himself with their bonny guest.
“Then report to my chamber.”
Lachlan took a sip of wine and gave Rory a wry grin. “Of course, my lord.”
Felicia nibbled at her meal, long grown cold. She did not really understand why she could not sup with her cousin, or with the Maclean clan in the great hall. Was it because she was a Campbell? Did everyone know her true identity now? She felt like a leper.
She finished, then opened the door. A Maclean stood outside.
“I would like to see Alina,” she said.
The clansman nodded, and she walked to the next chamber. Alina looked up as she entered and struggled to sit. A smile spread across her pale face. “My lady.”
The smile lit Felicia’s gray mood. She sat down and reached for the girl’s hand. “Can I get you anything?”
“Mum was just here with soup.”
Felicia looked at the table next to the bed. A bowl of soup sat there with bread and water. “Can I help you eat it?”
“Ye, my lady?”
“I would very much like to.”
Alina’s shy smile stretched wider. “
I was laying here thinking about it, but—”
Felicia picked up the bowl and spoon and brought it to Alina’s lips. The lass swallowed it. Felicia continued until the soup was gone, and Alina had consumed the bread.
“I can tell you are better,” Felicia said.
“Thanks to ye,” Alina said. “Ye have been so kind.”
“I like you. Very much,” Felicia said. “Would you like a story?”
“Aye.”
Felicia searched her memory. “There was once a young maiden who lived with her father in the woods,” she said. “He hunted for food and found fuel for the fire.
“But she was very lonely. There were no children to play with, nor as she grew older, no young man to seek her out. One day, she took a walk and found the most beautiful waterfall she had ever seen, and she started to go there every day.
“She made friends of the forest animals who ventured to the waterfall, including a young fawn and its mother. There were hares, and squirrels who would eat from her fingers. And birds that would fly down and flutter around her. Even a wolf joined them. It seemed there was a truce around the magical waterfall.
“And she learned from them. They showed her how to find the choicest mushrooms and greens and onions. Yet she wondered who would come and share the magical kingdom with her.
“Then her father hurt himself with the axe, and she had to stay and take care of him. There was little food, and she did not know how she could feed them.
“The animals waited for her to come to the waterfall, but after several days without her, the deer decided to find out why. She very cautiously ventured near the small croft, knowing that the girl had warned her many times that her father hunted animals and she must remain hidden during the day.”
Alina’s eyes had brightened as she listened intently. “What happened?”
“Sofia—her name was Sofia—went outside. A tear fell from one of her eyes as she told the deer what had happened. The other animals gathered around, wanting to help, but none knew what to do. They did not care for the hunter, but they had come to love Sofia, who was so kind, and they did not want to see her so sad.
Beloved Impostor Page 22