The Devil in Plaid(46)

Fiona dropped his hand and furrowed her brow as she began pacing the room. Then she stopped and whirled to face him. “We need to get word to one of the captains.”

Jamie shook his head. “If the clan truly objects to their new laird, it is unlikely that any of the former captains walk free.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Ye do not suppose they’re all dead?”

He lifted his shoulders. “’Tis impossible to say. At the least, I would imagine they’ve been imprisoned. In any case, the captains will be watched.”

“Then we must seek out someone Ranulf would never expect.” Fiona’s eyes brightened. “There is a cottar on the very outskirts of MacKenzie territory. His name is Hamish, and he has a young son named Finn who is but two and ten. Theirs is the only home on that part of the coast. On a good day the waves tear at the shore, and when storms strike, Hamish’s peat roof often surrenders to the might of the wind. ‘Tis why no one else lives so close. But the fishing is fine. Late every afternoon, Finn rides to the keep and brings the cook a fresh basket of fish as rent. If we could get word to them, mayhap Finn could deliver a message. No one would suspect a mere lad.”

Jamie saw merit in her plan, but it was still incomplete. “But what message would we convey? How do we proceed?”

Fiona took to pacing again. But after only a few moments, she stopped. “What if we united with Clan MacKenzie? If they were to open their gates to our number, then, together, we could defeat Ranulf.”

He held out his hands to restrain her enthusiasm. “The spirit of yer idea is sound, but there are too many unknowns. How will we know if Finn is successful in conveying the message? And how will we know if an accord is struck? I cannot send my men into a trap.”

“Mayhap, there could be a signal,” she suggested. “Three torches could be lit on the parapet of the front battlements—one for each of our clans coming together to rid our lands of this wretch.”

Jamie was quiet as he considered her proposal, but then he shook his head. “Even if we saw such a signal, how would we know ‘tis real? If the MacKenzie were to get wind of our plan, he could use it against us. The torches might be lit, but still a trap could be set.”

She squeezed his hands, drawing him close. “Ye’re right to be cautious, but I believe we can do this. Ye’ve amassed an army to fight our enemy, and we have a responsibility to our people to act justly. We cannot ask our warriors to kill if the lives they steal are innocent. Our message will let the people of the MacKenzie know we are on their side. We fight for our freedom and for theirs. They can open the gates, uniting our forces. ‘Tis a sound plan,” she insisted. “Fetch the council. Put it to yer captains and the elders.”

He did not answer straight away. His gaze dropped to the dancing flames in the hearth.

“What is it?” she asked. “Something else worries ye.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “Again, ye’re correct.” He cleared his throat. “I am still troubled by the attack we endured in the woods on our journey from yer home.”

“I ken why,” she said gently. “Grant and Niall’s deaths weigh on yer heart, and ye hesitate putting more of yer men at risk.”

He turned and looked at her. “’Tis true that my heart is still heavy, and I am always hesitant putting my men at risk, but, nay, that is not why I’m troubled.” He stared once more at the flames. Then he jerked around. “How could Ranulf MacKenzie have known to expect us on the Hidden Pass? They were waiting for us. They knew we would be there.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Ye think we were betrayed.”

He nodded grimly.

“What has Matthew said on this matter?” she asked.

Jamie lifted his shoulders. “He thinks I worry for naught. He believes it much more likely that scouts spotted us, then circled ahead to cut us off.”

She blew out a long breath. “Matthew’s thoughts are reasonable, especially in light of what ye’re suggesting. Forgive me, Jamie, but I cannot believe that one of our own has turned traitor.”

“I feel the same, and yet I cannot shake this feeling. Ye ken now why I hesitate to bring this plan to the council. I pray to God I’m wrong, but if I’m right, we have to be careful.”

She stood tall, her shoulders pushed back. “No matter. We do not need to involve the council. I will take the message.”

Jamie stiffened. “Absolutely not!”

“Just hear me out,” she said. “Hamish knows me. He will trust our plan if it comes from me.”

“Ye cannot expect me to allow ye to do this.”

“Matthew and Alasdair can accompany me. Their trust is assured.”

Jamie shook his head at her. “I’ve said nay, and I meant nay.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “Ye must put the good of our clans first. I am the logical choice to go. We will take every precaution. Alasdair and Matthew will ensure my safety. We only go but to the outskirts of their territory. If ye send a warrior from one of our clans, Hamish is liable to flee or, at the very least, he’ll be suspicious. But if they see me and can hear our plan from my lips, they will know we are forthright.”

“I will not allow this,” he snapped. Then he threw his hands up. “I will go.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Ye cannot leave an army without its leader. Hundreds of men camp out in our baily and the grounds beyond. They have come here under yer command. I am yer wife, but first and foremost, like ye, I am lady to our people.” She took his hands in hers. “I can do this, Jamie. Please do not underestimate me.”