Argyle took a couple of swallows of ale before looking between Jemma and Annaleigh. “Did Aunt Jemma tell ye?”
Annaleigh looked at Jemma. “Tell me what?”
Jemma scowled. “What am I tae tell her?” she said. “Ye wouldna tell me, so here she is. Give her Robbie’s message and be done with it.”
Argyle swallowed the bite in his mouth, casting Brendan a long look before answering. “Aunt Jemma, I swore tae Robbiethat I would tell Annie in private,” he said. “If he wanted ye tae hear, he would have told me tae tell ye.”
Jemma was unhappy with their nonsense and she knew for a fact that it was nonsense. But they had come a long way, and there had been some difficulty, so she figured that no harm could come to Annaleigh in full view of the entire hall. Argyle and Brendan had always been shifty, but more than that, they were part of the movement against Annaleigh’s father, according to Annaleigh. Perhaps that’s what had Jemma most suspicious. Against her better judgment, however, she relented.
“Very well,” she said. “I’ll go. But ye’ll stay here and tell her. Ye’ll not leave the hall, do ye hear?”
Argyle and Brendan solemnly nodded and Jemma, moderately satisfied, headed off to the other end of the hall where men were becoming loud and drunk and a fight was breaking out. When the petite woman became lost in the sea of men, Argyle bolted to his feet.
“Ye must come with us right away, Annie,” he said. “Robbie is dying. He’s asking for ye!”
Annaleigh gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “What happened?” she said, immediately in tears. “What’s wrong with him?”
Argyle was moving around the table, already grasping for her. “He sent us tae tell ye but he doesna want anyone else tae know,” he said. “Not even Aunt Jemma or Aunt Jordan. He told us only tae tell ye and tae bring ye home right away.”
Startled and frightened with the news about her brother, Annaleigh let Argyle lead her out of the hall in spite of the fact that Jemma had told them to remain. Brendan was behind her, his hands on her shoulders as Argyle took her wrists, all of them herding her out of the hall the moment Jemma’s back was turned.
And Annaleigh went right along with it.
“What’s the matter?” she wept. “Please tell me. What happened tae my brother?”
Both Argyle and Brendan were keeping an eye out for anyone who might prevent them from doing what needed to be done. They had Annaleigh exactly where they wanted her and they didn’t want interference from anyone. Argyle had daggers on him, as did Brendan, and if anyone tried to stop them, a dagger would be pointed straight at Annaleigh. They hadn’t expected to have her in their possession so quickly, but here she was.
They had to move and move quickly or all would be lost.
“A fever,” Argyle said. “He’s been sick for days with it and the physic says he’s dying. But he doesna want anyone tae know.”
Annaleigh wept with sorrow. “But why?” she said, wiping her face. “Mayhap we could find help for him. We have wounded in the hall from a battle yesterday or I would ask our own physic tae tend him, but he has many wounded. Men are dying. We lost a knight today, a man who was my friend.”
Argyle looked at her, brow furrowed. “No knight is a friend of a Scots,” he said. “I asked ye if ye were a Sassenach yet. If an English knight is yer friend, then mayhap ye are. Break yer father’s heart!”
Annaleigh yanked her hands away from him. “Dunna say such things, Argyle Scott,” she said, wiping more tears from her cheeks. “My brother is dying and ye scold me? What about my da? Is he well?”
Argyle grasped her wrist again, pulling her towards the stables, which weren’t too far away, fortunately. He pulled her past the walled garden and around the corner where the stable yard was.
“Yer da is well,” Argyle said. “But ye must come. When we left, he was showing signs that he might be becoming ill also, so ye must come. But we canna tell anyone.”
“Butwhy?” Annaleigh begged.
Argyle came to an abrupt halt. “Because if the Sassenach know yer brother is dying, and mayhap yer father is ill, it will weaken the clan,” he said. “The death of a chief and his heir will make the clan weak to our enemies, so ye canna tell.”
It was a perfectly logical statement if they were dealing with enemy English, but they weren’t. Annaleigh was puzzled as well as distraught.
“But William and Jordan are our kin,” she said. “They wouldna think us weak. They would help.”
“They’re English,” Argyle hissed at her. “They are not our kin.”
“They are!”
Argyle yanked on her. “This is the way Robbie wanted it, so this is the way we’re going tae do it.”
Annaleigh yelped when he yanked too hard and twisted her wrist. “Argyle!” she snapped. “Let me go!”
They had reached the side entrance to the stables, a small door that the servants used to go in and out, and Argyle let go of Annaleigh’s wrist long enough to grab her by the hair. He yanked and pulled her against the wall, out of sight, as Brendan crowded in around them to shield them in the darkness.
