The Recruit (Highland Guard #6)(105)

MacKay gave him a glance sharp enough to see in the moonlit darkness. “From what I hear, Ice, you are plenty ready.”

Ah hell. They must have heard about his fighting. Kenneth clenched his jaw, ready for the arse-chewing that he knew he was about to get.

MacKay didn’t disappoint. He never did when it came to that. “What the hell were you thinking? What if someone from the castle discovered what you were doing? You would have a lot of explaining to do.”

The fact that someone had discovered him made MacKay’s anger even more justified. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him about Felton. “It was the only way I could think of to keep my skills sharp. I won’t be much good to Bruce if I’m not ready when he needs me.”

“What he needs you to do is stay close to Percy and find out all you can about what Edward is planning. He doesn’t need you fighting in secret tourneys and ending up in a dungeon. Nor does he need you to worry about Clifford’s absences—or inquire about missing nuns, for that matter.”

Kenneth stilled. If MacKay knew about his inquiries, that meant Lamberton had told Bruce. It didn’t take Campbell-like senses to know they were hiding something. Which meant he’d just found the source of his stone wall, and worse, he suspected why it had been put there: they knew something. And he couldn’t tell Mary. He’d wanted to find a way to soften the blow for his deception; instead he was compounding the secrets between them.

“Leave him alone, Saint,” Ewen Lamont said from his place in the shadows. They stood in the forest just east of the Pentland Hills, a short distance from Edinburgh. Kenneth had managed to slip away from the rest of the men on his ride north to scout the road ahead, when he’d spotted them. But they didn’t have much time. “From what I hear, the recruit did us proud. No harm has come of it. And he’s brought us more than we could have expected.”

Kenneth didn’t know what surprised him more: that the acclaimed tracker had jumped to his defense or the length of the speech by which he’d done so. He didn’t think he’d heard Lamont string more than two or three words together at a time the entire duration of his training. Lamont, war name Hunter, was the polar opposite of MacSorley in social skills. Blunt was a nice way of putting it. Inept was another. The man said what he thought, when he wanted to, in as few words as possible.

Which made his partnership with Eoin MacLean easily the most muted of any of the pairings, as the famed battle strategist possessed a silent, grim intensity and also tended to keep his words to a minimum.

It was MacLean who spoke next. “This letter is just the confirmation we need. Now that we know Edward is sending supplies to Edinburgh Castle—and probably Stirling as well—in preparation for his campaign, it means we can guess the route he will take, which will make it easier to prepare our attacks. It’s time to put the plan for your exit in motion. From what we hear, one of Percy’s men has been asking a lot of questions about you. Edward’s ship is leaving from London any day. Why wait and risk something going wrong? Part of waging a successful mission is knowing when you should get out. You’ve done well—better than we could have hoped. But now you are needed with us. Bruce wants us with Douglas in the forest, gathering support and readying the troops.”

Kenneth shook his head. “It’s too easy.” He held up the letter that he’d been entrusted to deliver to the constable at Edinburgh. “Percy just happens to send me ahead with a message about an impending delivery? It doesn’t feel right.” The moment he’d read it, he’d known it was too good to be true. “Give me a little more time. As soon as Sir Adam leaves, I can get Mary away without anyone knowing; then we’ll see. We need to wait for Hawk anyway.”

With Mary’s pregnancy, he’d decided it would be easier to get her to safety by ship.

“And the young earl?” MacKay asked.

“Once we have him, I think he can be convinced.” He hoped. But Davey was hard to read and good at keeping his thoughts to himself. He was counting on the boy’s admiration for him, and Mary’s persuasion.

The three men looked at each other. After a moment, MacKay said, “Don’t take any chances. If something doesn’t feel right, get out of there. With three thousand English soldiers garrisoned nearby, we won’t be able to get you out of Berwick’s pit prison anytime soon. And as MacRuairi can tell you, it’s not a place you would wish to stay for long.”

Kenneth remembered. His brief stay had been long enough. “And if something does go wrong?”

His brother-in-law held his gaze. “We’ll take care of her.”

Kenneth nodded. Strange, but there was no man he would trust more with his wife than his former enemy. MacKay would take care of her. Whatever else happened, Mary would be safe. He could take solace in the knowledge that he’d kept one promise.

He just hoped it didn’t come to that.

Mary tugged on the leather handle, but the blasted thing wouldn’t budge. She plopped down atop the trunk and with a deep sigh blew a strand of hair from her face. She’d thought she might be able to move it by herself, but it had to be stuffed with rocks.

She had enlisted a few of the serving girls to help her clean the room in preparation for the baby, but they’d gone to ready the midday meal and she’d decided to continue without them.

The hard work seemed to keep her mind from inventing reasons to worry. Her husband was preoccupied with his duty, that was all. God knew Percy was keeping him busy. She’d seen so little of him since she’d left Berwick Castle. Already, it had been three days since he’d left for Edinburgh. There was no reason to worry. He would come when he could.