Percy gave a horrified gasp and pressed a hand to her mouth as though she were squelching a scream.
The man’s throat had been cut with such savage strength, his head was nearly shorn off.
Connor lowered the man to the ground.
“Don’t look, Percy.” Sylvi’s voice sounded from behind Connor, and the grass rustled with their retreating footsteps.
But Connor did not lift the man to follow their departure. He could not tear his gaze from the face on the ground.
The dark hair had thinned some since Connor had last seen him, but the thick brows and the scar down one cheek was unmistakable.
Connor knew this man.
Renny. Renny was his name.
He’d been the blacksmith.
At Urquhart.
One of the many men Connor assumed had died three years ago. And now he was truly dead.
Something hot and tight coiled in his chest.
If he’d stayed at Urquhart, this never would have happened.
And if Renny had only recently still been alive, so too were others.
Connor would leave for Urquhart immediately.
His people had need of him.
Chapter 28
Connor refused to return to Urquhart without Renny’s body.
He couldn’t allow one of his men to be buried anywhere but at home. Nay, Renny would be buried at Urquhart, near his parents and the young wife he’d lost so early in their marriage.
Connor had begun mentally preparing the list of items he would need for his journey, especially since he’d need to travel quickly. The urgency of his impending departure raked at his nerves, but not nearly as much as the urgent issues needing his attention before he left.
Sylvi and Delilah were both waiting for him in his solar. Sylvi’s back was ramrod straight despite her obvious exhaustion. Delilah, who had taken the time to change into a soft pink gown, slumped in the seat beside her.
“We’ve uncovered a plot against the king.” Sylvi spoke before the door had even closed.
Connor came around the large desk and regarded them. Grime lined Sylvi’s face from their journey, but her pale eyes were bright.
“Where did ye hear about this?” he asked.
“The night we went to seek out MacAlister. We didn’t find him, but we heard some men talking about trying to raise coin to buy gunpowder.” Her brows raised. “A lot of gunpowder. I sent Delilah to them to get more information.”
She looked to where Delilah sat beside her.
Delilah’s cheeks were red and her face shining where she’d obviously scrubbed her skin clean prior to their arrival, but she hardly appeared refreshed. “They weren’t loose with their information, so we stayed at the inn near them long enough to get their trust. This has been a plot going back over two years now. Something having to do with Englishmen on Scottish soil.”
Sylvi shook her head. “No, it’s about religion. King James would happily kill all the Catholics, but knows he can’t. They, however, feel they can kill him for his beliefs regardless. An Englishman, Thomas Percy, approached the king in Scotland to convince him to change his philosophy on the persecution of Catholics, but the king refused. Some Scots slipped words in his ear and incited his rage.”
The irritation squeezing at Connor’s chest knotted further. “How does this have to do with a plot against the king?”
Delilah waved her hand dismissively. “These Englishmen are angry and want to blow up the king. During the State Opening of Parliament.”
Which would not just kill the king, but also the queen, the entire House of Lords, and any other men or women standing nearby.
Though ruthless, Connor had to admit it was brilliant. Not only would the entire country fall into a state of fear and turmoil, but James’s young daughter would sit on the throne with Catholic influence.
While it did not separate Scotland from England, it did reduce the religious strife in the Highlands, and a young girl would be more easily influenced than her father.
“Do ye have names?” Connor asked.
Sylvi shook her head. “Not all of them. Just a few.” She handed a folded parchment to Connor. “These are the ones I have thus far. I’m in the process of securing more. The Englishmen are trying to enlist Scottish financial support for all the gunpowder.”
Connor unfolded the list and saw several English names. While he did not recognize them, he was sure the king would.
“We’ll be going back out,” Sylvi added. “We needed to come back for supplies. And someone needed clean clothes.” She shot Delilah a hard look.
Delilah folded her arms over her chest and returned a defiant stare of her own.
“It’s good ye came back.” Connor nodded. “This is valuable information ye already have, but ye have to have a care for yerselves as well. Get some good rest, take all the supplies ye need, and ensure ye have enough coin to see ye through yer mission.”
The women nodded in unison and rose from their seats. Connor walked to the door with them, intending to leave, when he was met by Percy. An anxious line creased her brow and blood creased the front of a white apron she wore over her simple pink dress.
A spike of alarm jabbed up through Connor.
“It’s Murdoch,” she said. “He’s been stabbed.”
Connor followed her quickly down the hall toward the small room where Murdoch stayed. “Where? When? How did this happen?” he demanded.
“In the stomach. He’s fortunate to even be alive. He said it was at a tavern near Inverness.” She pushed open the narrow wooden door to reveal Murdoch’s large form laid out on the bed. The clean scent of steeped herbs scented the air with a medicinal smell.
Connor approached the bed. “Sleeping off drink is easily done, but ye canna sleep off a stab wound.” The jest came out hollow.
Murdoch’s light hair looked dark against the paleness of his skin. “Ach, ye know it’ll take more than a little stab wound to drop me.” His words came out slightly slurred.
“I’ve given him some valerian root for the pain,” Percy said softly.
“Why dinna he tell ye he’d been stabbed?” Connor asked.
Murdoch waved a hand in the air. “It wasna deep. I thought it’d be fine. I used to do this when I was younger.”
Connor shook his head. “Ye’re no’ so young anymore, my friend.” And it was true. Murdoch was several years older than Connor, but he seemed to have aged over a decade in the last three years.
Murdoch looked up at Connor with a glassy stare. “Gordon was at his castle, at Glenbuchat, only recently returned from Loch Manor, or so his staff said.”
Connor’s mouth pulled into a grimace. Murdoch, ever the true and good friend, had brought back the necessary information even as he lay in a fog of valerian root and pain.
“Ye’re a good man.” Connor gently squeezed his friend’s arm. “But dinna be a stubborn one. Get some rest, aye? We’ve enough information for now.”
Murdoch nodded and his eyes slid closed.
Connor glanced at Percy, silently seeking confirmation the large man would be fine. She met his gaze and nodded.
Together they left the room, but Connor did not speak until the door had sealed closed behind them. “I’m going to need some supplies for a few days, as will Sylvi and Delilah.”
Percy’s brow furrowed for the briefest of moments. “You’ll be joining them then?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be going back to Urquhart and bringing the man Sylvi and Delilah found with me. I believe he’s from that area.” He offered no more information on it, and knew she would not question it. “I dinna know how long I’ll be gone.”
“Then I’ll ensure I get enough for Ariana as well.” She turned to go.
“Ariana willna be coming,” Connor said.
Percy spun back around. “She’s the only one of us strong enough to go. Liv is only just recovered and Isabel hasn’t had any training.”
He did not answer at first. He didn’t want to, no
t when he knew how she would take his answer.
But she already knew.
Her hands wrung together, and he regretted the words before he spoke them: “I’m going alone.”
She jerked back as if she’d been slapped. “You know how dangerous it is to go alone.” She shook her head. “You can’t. I won’t allow it.”
It wasn’t ferocity sparking in her words, but fear.
“Ye dinna have a say.” He spoke harsh enough to echo in the narrow hallway, but gentle Percy did not so much as flinch.
“No,” she said. “But I have experience.” Tears shone in her eyes, turning the soft blue brilliant. She pressed a hand over her chest where a blade had once barely missed her heart. The pale line of a silvery scar peeked over the neckline of her plain pink dress.
Percy, who had always been so acquiescent and understanding, now stood before him with her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You swore we would never go out alone after that day.”
Guilt tore into him. “I dinna mean myself.”
“And what of us?” Percy said in a harsh whisper. “What if you go and you don’t come back? Where will this band of cast-aside women find refuge? We have no home but here. We have no skills but those you’ve given us. We have nothing to sustain a true life.”
She took a deep breath and placed a hand on his arm. Her touch was light and soothing, the way it always was. “We care for you too much to lose you, Connor. Please take Ariana with you.”
The words he needed to say stuck in his throat, but Percy was patient and waited with only her eyes imploring him to explain. “Ariana killed a man at Urquhart.”
Percy’s eyes softened and she breathed out a slow, painful exhalation. “Is she all right?”
“She wasna injured.”
“Then it’s all the more reason to bring her with you. Watch her, guide her as only you can.” Her head tilted and a lock of blonde hair fell over her shoulder. “I often wonder if I would have had the strength to continue as the other women have, if I’d gone out again soon after.”
Connor frowned. He’d been so sure giving in to Percy’s request to never go on another mission had been the right thing to do. Her doubt made him question his own long-ago decision.
“I don’t know for certain,” Percy said quickly, as if she knew how her words had twisted into his heart. “But there’s one way to find out. Take her with you.”
There was never any arguing with Percy. Her gentle insistence and large blue eyes were impossible to rage against.
Connor gave a heavy sigh and nodded. “Verra well. I’ll bring Ariana.”
And this time he swore to himself things would go differently.
• • •
Ariana made her way down the hall to Percy’s room for a few lockpicks to use in training Liv and Isabel. Instructing them had made Ariana realize how much she truly had learned since she’d arrived in Scotland.
How much she’d be able to use on her own when she was free.
The other women had listened with rapt attention to her instructions on preparing for a mission. What to expect, what to do when something bad happened. Certainly she knew too well how difficult it could be when bad things happened, but had avoided sharing the details of her last botched mission.
She tried not to think of the slow, sardonic smile Isabel had given at the mention of the round vial of poison.
Sylvi came out of Percy’s room and closed the door quickly behind her. She had something in her hand Ariana could not make out.
Ariana gave Sylvi a nod, not wanting to engage in small talk any more than Sylvi likely wanted to.
The woman was fascinating, though. She possessed the greatest skill of any of the other women there, but she did not venture out on her own.
Sylvi’s brows furrowed together and she gave Ariana a disconcerted look. “What?”
Ariana gritted her teeth. Evidently, she had been staring. She could have kicked herself for it.
“Why do you stay?” Ariana let the question slide from her lips and tried not to regret it.
Sylvi smirked. “I’m not going to go until I find who I’m looking for.” Lines of white along the sides of Sylvi’s eyes stood out against the duskiness of her dirty skin, as if she’d been squinting during her ride. “Besides, I get training here.”
“More than you have already?”
Sylvi shrugged off the compliment. “There is always more to learn. Until I find who I’m looking for. And when I do—” She drew in a deep breath, as if to calm herself. “And when I do, I’ll be ready.”
There was a coldness to her tone, like the razor-sharp edge of a dagger. A chill skittered over Ariana’s skin.
Sylvi narrowed her eyes and the white lines around her eyes disappeared in the creases of grit. “You act as though it’s easy to leave, Ariana. No one just walks away.”
Ariana felt as if she’d been doused with a bucket of melted snow.
She gave a nod, all she could muster, and then Sylvi was gone.
Had that been a threat?
Ariana opened the door to Percy’s room and slipped inside, grateful her encounter with Sylvi was over, and grateful to be once more blissfully alone.
The light inside the room was so brilliant, it left Ariana momentarily stunned. Where the hallway had been dark, the room was brighter than the day outside. Sunlight shone in through the narrow windows lining the back wall, but surely it was not enough to fill the entire room.
Mirrors dotted the room, on walls and on tables and in sconces. One in particular reflected a dazzling shard of sunlight directly into her eyes. It was then Ariana realized the mirrors were responsible for the incredible amount of light.
Several silver lockpick-hairpins glinted at her from a table across the room, where they were neatly lined up alongside one another. Exactly what she needed.
Ariana plucked three from the table, all with a delicate rose design etched into them, and slid one into her hair. There was another table next to her, one with the small vials she’d received from Percy the night of her first mission. The dreadful eye tincture Ariana would never use again, the slender tube of the concoction which left a man incapacitated. And the round vial.
Her gaze flitted from the round vial. After having witnessed its effects, she wanted nothing more to do with its contents.
But the slender tube… Her hand lifted of its own accord and hung in the air for a brief moment.
There were many possibilities with the slender vial, many ways it could aid her in escaping.
No one just walks away.
Sylvi’s words pounded in her head.
The enticement flared up inside Ariana, greedy and entitled. She had always played by the rules, always done as she was told. Barring her time at the gaming tables, of course.
Her fingers settled over the slick glass. This was her opportunity to make her own rules, to live her own life.
That was when the door clicked closed with a softness that might as well have been a slam.
Ariana’s heart near burst from her chest and she spun around.
She wanted to be angry at the intrusion, to let it feed the fire of unfairness burning through her. And perhaps she could have—were the person anyone else.
Percy stood in front of the closed door, her blonde hair falling around her face like an angel’s. A soft smile touched Percy’s lips and her expression was as gentle and beautifully open as it always was.
It was impossible to begrudge Percy her beauty as much as it was impossible to feel anger toward her. It was possible, however, to feel guilt—and its weight pressed hard against Ariana’s soul.
She had stolen. From Percy.
Shame scorched Ariana’s cheeks.
“I assume you’ve already been informed, then?” Percy asked.
Percy was not at all suspicious of what Ariana was doing, and somehow that made Ariana feel all the worse for her actions.
“I’ve been informed about what?” Ariana forced a casual tone to
her voice.
Percy was closer now, bringing with her the delicate scent of violets. Her hand settled against Ariana’s arm, the grasp so light, the touch of her cool fingers was almost indiscernible.
A tingle of alarm hummed in the back of Ariana’s mind.
Percy’s brow flinched together in an almost sympathetic gesture and her kind blue eyes met Ariana’s. “You’re going on another mission.”
The words clotted in Ariana’s ears and made her head swim.
Another mission.
So soon?
“Will I be leaving with Delilah and Sylvi, then?” Ariana asked.
Percy shook her head. “You’ll be leaving with Connor for Urquhart.”
Ariana’s fingers tingled as if they’d been raked over ice. “When?”
“Tonight.” Percy took a deep breath and softly blew it out. “Connor told me what happened when you were there last.”
Ariana had to fight to keep her eyes from going wide. Now her entire body felt like it’d been dragged through snow and ice and everything else chilling and awful. Everything went cold and prickled with horror.
Surely Percy didn’t know about what Connor and she had shared at the castle…
“I killed someone once, too,” Percy whispered. “I had to, or he would have killed me. He almost did.”
The blue of Percy’s eyes already stood out against the subtle pink of her dress. Now tears lit them to the dazzling deep blue of a sapphire. Those tears tore at Ariana’s heart and made her want to put her arms around the other girl, to share the pain of a lost life.
But before Ariana had the chance, Percy moved away and opened a cabinet. “It was because I went on a mission by myself. It was what I’d been ordered to do. I made Connor promise two things—to never have any of us travel alone again, and to never send me out. He has honored that promise. But there are days I regret telling him to take me off missions, days I wished I’d pushed on instead.” She pulled a pair of brown shoes from an unseen shelf and settled them on the table with a thunk.
She strode across the room. “I don’t want you to regret not going out again.”
Highland Spy Page 23