Page 73 of Beguiled By the Highlander
No. Even though it went against everything she’d been taught since she was a child about the Deep Knowing and her fierce Pict queen foremother, there was no other place she’d rather be than by William’s side.
If only she had told him that before he’d left Creagdoun. Suppose she never got the chance to tell him now?
She swung about, heart thudding in her breast. She couldn’t think that, nor imagine everything that might go wrong in the battle, or she’d go mad. Her task was to ensure the castle and its inhabitants prevailed.
Thank God for the well within Creagdoun’s walls. At least they wouldn’t die of thirst or poisoning, should the worst happen and the castle was besieged.
It wouldn’t come to that. But it was always wise to be prepared.
*
Dawn had broken,and William stretched in the saddle as anticipation thrummed through his blood. As much as he hated to leave Isolde, he relished the upcoming battle to secure, once and for all, his right to Creagdoun.
The right for Isolde and their unborn children.
God, he couldn’t think of that right now. It brought to mind his beautiful wife, hair unbound, welcoming him in her arms, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.
But inevitably, the image scorched into his brain, along with every other memory he held of her, from the first time he’d seen her when he didn’t even recall his own name.
It began to drizzle, and the clouds hung low over the mountains with fog creeping lower into the glens. Not a great day for a battle. If the weather didn’t clear, they’d barely be able to see each other, let alone their enemy.
He frowned as an elusive glimmer of an idea took form. Before he could fully grasp it, Hugh came to his side.
“Let’s hope this shakes out the traitor,” he said under his breath, and William grunted in agreement. At least he was certain the man wasn’t at Creagdoun, putting Isolde in danger.
The path narrowed, and his company slowed to take account of the treacherous terrain. From behind him, Robert Fletcher spoke.
“Damned MacGregors. They should have all gone to Eire with the rest of the redshanks.”
“My brother tells me there’s a faction still loyal to old Torcall MacGregor,” David Cunningham said. “I wager they’re the ones causing trouble for the earl.”
Would David say that if he was working for the MacGregors? It seemed unlikely. But his comment reminded him of the previous day’s conversation with Hugh, and he glanced at his cousin. “Still no news of Douglas’s whereabouts?”
“He’s with the earl already. He sent word with the messenger that arrived in the early hours. It seems we just missed his arrival yesterday.”
“I haven’t seen Douglas in years,” Robert remarked. “What’s he been up to?”
“Don’t ask me.” Hugh hunched his shoulders against the wind, or maybe it was simply against the aggravation that was his elder brother. “I’m not his confidant.”
They emerged from the pass and traveled through yet another village, but as they left the last cottage in their wake, Malcolm MacNeil let out a loud curse. William glanced over his shoulder to see the other man dismount and inspect his horse.
“He’s thrown a shoe,” Malcolm said. “We passed a farrier in the village. I’ll get him reshod and join ye at the earl’s.”
William gave a sharp nod. “Don’t delay.”
Malcolm gripped the bridle and turned his horse around and soon became nothing but a shadow in the mist.
The earl and his men, including Hugh’s brother, Douglas, were waiting for them in the courtyard when they arrived at the manor, and William made his way over to the other man.
“My lord,” he said, his voice low, and after giving him a shrewd look, the earl led him out of earshot of the rest of the company.
“What’s on yer mind?”
“It’s possible the traitor has passed on our plans to confront the MacGregors at Glen Clah to his network.”
“Aye.”
William drew in a deep breath as realization struck him. “That was the plan?”
