Page 83 of Highland Jewel
The orders from Lord Sidmouth said to wait no longer. The meeting between the queen and the son of Scotland could not take place. An escort to Inverness would be waiting in this cottage.
Niall hoped the filthy dog would show up. The king’s people were everywhere and they were ruthless. He now understood Queen Caroline’s reasoning when she entrusted him with her secret. There was no one that she could trust. No one.
“There’s more than that lad involved in taking messages back and forth to Fort George,” Blair commented casually. “The laird knows the only way to find out is to make the one we take today talk.”
Niall’s hand rested on the handle of the knife in his coat pocket. It was the same one that had been used on Maisie. More than once during these past few days he’d been ready to kill. There were those who he suspected. But Cinaed had been the voice of reason. They had to wait until they knew for certain who was responsible for all of it—releasing Niall from the cells, stabbing Maisie, leaving Sir Rupert’s letter about Fiona’s execution date.
He raised a hand as the sound of footsteps could be heard outside. He and Blair both moved into the shadows. Niall pulled up the collar of his cloak and waited.
A man paused in the doorway. His frame was silhouetted in the dawn light. “Are you sure this is the place?”
Owen Woelk. Niall recognized the voice. The queen’s kinsman. The first thing running through his mind was that she’d suspected this. Rightfully, Caroline didn’t trust her own family. And there was another with him.
“Go in, you fool. We can wait. You don’t want to go down that road and be shot by British troops, do you?”
Lewis Rainey. A Mackintosh. Treacherous blackguards. Both of them. Sidmouth had every messenger on this journey north in his pocket. Where he failed was in thinking he could actually force Niall to do his bidding. After all, a soldier followed orders.
He could see now how Maisie had fallen victim to these two. Both were waiting for the letter. One received it. The other stood guard.
The men were both inside the hut before Woelk saw Niall standing in the shadow against the back wall.
“Good. You’re here. Take me at once to Sir Ralph. I have information regarding the castle that will prove valuable…” He stopped talking as Niall straightened up to his full height and a shadow moved, cutting off their retreat.
Rainey immediately turned, but Blair was standing in his path, a cocked pistol in his hand.
Woelk was slower in recognizing the peril they were in. “What is this about?”
The two traitors stood back to back. When Rainey reached inside his coat, Blair collared him and slammed him against the wall.
Niall stepped toward Woelk.
“Campbell,” he gasped in surprise. He quickly recovered. “Remember whose side you’re on. Don’t forget your sister.”
“You mean the sister who isnotat Fort George.”
Niall was no longer worried about Fiona’s imminent execution. As soon as Searc learned the contents of the letter, he’d dispatched a rider with a message to the commander of the fort, a personal friend of his. News had come back that Fiona was not being held there. Another lie.
Woelk yanked on the handle of his cane and a hidden sword blade slid out. Niall grabbed his wrist and tookthe man by the throat, driving him so hard into the wall that his head bounced. The weapon fell to the floor.
“You attacked my wife,” Niall said, shoving him against the wall again.
He could hear the note of desperation in Woelk’s voice. “I didn’t. It wasn’t me. Rainey did it. He was watching for me when they brought the letter. He thought she saw me. He did it.”
“That’s a dirty lie!” the other man cried out. “Believe me, Campbell, Woelk’s been at it since before you and I met the queen.”
“Shut up.”
“He’s been the Prince Regent’s spy for years. He’s the one who approached me before our meeting.”
“You didn’t need much convincing. As soon as I told you they’d make you a baronet, you’d have stabbed your own mother to get it.”
Before the Highlander could answer, Blair punched the man in the gut, eliciting a gasp. A second blow was hard enough that Rainey vomited on the ground. “So ye’d betray yer own people for a miserable English title.”
Niall looked over at him. “I say we cut both their throats right now.”
“Less mess to do it here.”
“Do you still put heads on pikes at Dalmigavie?”
