Page 127 of Claimed by a Highlander
“One way or another,” Duncan said when she was slow to answer, “you’re going to tell Hector what he wants to know.”
“Sadly, the lad drowned in the river yesterday,” she said. “Rory made me write that message saying he was still alive to buy time to prepare for an attack.”
If Duncan had found Kenneth and Grizel, they would know she was lying. She held her breath for a moment, half expecting to be cut down on the spot, then took a sip of wine to cover her pause.
“Then this morning,” she continued, “Rory rode off without a word to me.”
“Ha, I knew he would charge off to try to save the Munros,” Hector said. “I sent one of my men to make confession to Alex—when it was too late, of course.”
“We were already chopping off heads by then,” Duncan said, running his hand over his axe handle.
“On the chance I misjudged Rory, we rode to Beauly after our victory in hope of catching him off guard,” Hector said. “Which brings us back to the mystery of why we found you there.”
“There is really no mystery to it.” She turned her head to the side and blinked back tears. “They say we women are fickle, but it’s men who pledge their hearts and then cast us aside.”
“I’m not fond of riddles,” Hector said. “Speak plainly, lass.”
“Rory wed me because he was desperate to have me in his bed,” she said in a bitter tone. “Now that his lust has waned, he wants a marriage alliance with a powerful Highland clan more than he wants me. I know he intends to set me aside, so I’ve left him.”
She hoped her performance was persuasive. When she mentioned Rory, the tear that slipped down her cheek was real enough.
“Most women are foolish, but I hear you’re a clever one.” Hector leaned forward, his cold eyes piercing her like shards of ice. “I know you’re lying because I know who ye are and that you’ve no place to go.”
For the first time since the mysterious priest brought it to her, she remembered the message from her family and realized she could offer Hector proof for her false story.
“My family got word to me that they arranged passage for me on a ship bound for France, where my brothers are in exile,” she said. “You can ask at Inverness if the French shipLa Fleuranchored there. It would have set sail this morning for Calais.”
She hoped that giving him details that he could easily check would convince him. Hector narrowed his eyes at her for a long moment, then finally nodded.
She shrieked in pain as Big Duncan lifted her out of her chair by her hair.
“Since Rory doesn’t want her, are ye done with her?” he asked Hector.
“She’s still a valuable asset,” Hector said. “Returning a Douglas traitor for justice could make the crown more inclined to recognize me as chieftain. Or I can sell her to James Hamilton of Finnart, son of the Earl of Arran.”
Finnart? How did Hector know about Finnart?
“I can see I surprised ye,” Hector said with a satisfied smile. “Once I heard that Rory had wed Lady Sybil Douglas, I made it a point to find out all I could about ye. Turns out, you’re a rather famous lass.”
***
When the hall door opened, Rory looked up expecting to see Sybil. Despite the evidence to the contrary, his heart could not accept that she had left him.
Instead of his wife, one of Malcolm’s sons came through the door.
“Has your father returned yet?” Rory asked.
“Nay,” the man said. “Neither has my son Lùcas, the one ye sent to Urquhart Castle.”
Rory wondered if the Grants were holding his messenger hostage until Kenneth was delivered. That would be a common precaution.
“I started to ride to Urquhart Castle to ask after my son,” the man continued, “but I had to turn around to tell ye what I saw.”
Rory could see from his face that it was more bad news.
“The Grants have set bonfires on their hilltops to call their men to battle,” he said. “I’d wager we have two days at most before they’re ready to attack.”
Please, God, not this too.Rory’s one comfort had been the knowledge that his son was safe with the Grants. The Grants’ call to battle could only mean they believed Kenneth was dead.
