“That was wonderfully brave of you, Aggie.”
“It was. I told her I was in touch with someone helping her brother, who wanted to meet with her. I wish I had not, now.”
Jeannie experienced a twinge of disquiet. She had, indeed, endangered both herself and Aggie. For now someone at Avrie House knew of her involvement with the hunted man.
All for the sake of someone who hated her.
She must believe she could trust Finnan’s sister, but how completely under her husband’s thumb might Deirdre Avrie be? What if Stuart questioned her and learned about this meeting? He would come straight to Jeannie’s door.
“How did she seem? What is her manner?” If Deirdre Avrie proved too downtrodden, she might not be able to help Finnan.
“Difficult to say. She had a great deal of composure—like hard iron beneath her beauty. Despite that, the mention of her brother did seem to affect her.”
“She will help him. She must.” Jeannie squeezed Aggie’s hands. For surely, like Jeannie, Finnan’s sister could not bear to see him dead.
****
“So you are the woman who is helping my brother. I saw you once at Avrie House.”
Deirdre Avrie stood framed in the doorway of Rowan Cottage looking so like her brother it nearly took Jeannie’s breath away. Jeannie reached out, towed her in, and hurriedly scanned the path behind her.
“You are certain you were not followed?”
“I was not. But I cannot be away long. It is far too dangerous. Where is Finnan?” Deirdre’s eyes reached behind Jeannie as if she thought to find him.
“Not here.”
“But he has been here? You have been aiding him?” Deirdre’s eyes examined Jeannie closely. The exact shape and color of Finnan’s, they were fringed with darker lashes. Her auburn hair, like his also, had been disciplined and confined in a knot at the nape of her neck. On her, his proud nose managed to look feminine, her oval face beautiful. She wore a grand dress of dark green that proved however her husband might misuse her he at least saw her well clothed.
“Come, sit.” Jeannie pulled at Deirdre’s hand. “We do not have long.”
“I dare not stay,” Deirdre said. “This place could too easily become a trap.”
“Where are your husband and his brother now?”
“I am not sure. They scour the glen for Finnan. Trent rode out with a troop of men this morning, headed north. Stuart left me not long since. But tell me how you come to know my brother.”
“I was married briefly to his close friend, to whom he bequeathed this cottage.”
“Married, briefly?”
“I am a widow now.”
“Ah. Not a bad thing to be.” Something flared in Deirdre’s eyes. “Though I do imagine some women must care for the men to whom they are shackled.”
Gently, Jeannie said, “I understand you were forced to wed Stuart Avrie.”
“Aye—forced to speak the words at knife point. I was but a lass of fifteen then. I learned much from my husband since—almost nothing of mercy.”
“I am sorry,” Jeannie told her. “But surely if you help Finnan defeat him, you will then be free.”
“And how might my brother defeat my husband? He is alone and at bay—injured, so they say. Dun Mhor lies half ruined. How can this end well?”
“I thought you might know of some weakness Finnan might exploit, that you might work from within on his behalf.”
“You think I would not, if I could? It has pained me, hearing how they pursue him and knowing there is little I can do.”
“How many men has your husband left in his service?”
