* * *
Saoirse listened to Magnus as he explained what happened in the dungeon and in Liam’s solar. She knew she received an abridged version of the dungeon. She was grateful for that. As happy as hearing about her father and grandfather accepting Magnus as their own, she struggled to think about anything but his imminent departure.
“Mo ghràidh, ye’re nae listening, are ye?”
“Hmm? Nay, I’m nae. I’m nae ready for ye to ride out yet, Magnus. What if—”
Magnus wrapped his arms around Saoirse, tucking her head against his chest. She wound her arms around his waist and closed her eyes. They stood together in their chamber, away from prying eyes and ears. He’d been uncertain how she would receive the news, so he wished for privacy. She appeared stoic, but he felt the tremors as she leaned against him.
“I canna tell ye naught will go wrong or make promises that guarantee ma return. But I can promise ye that I will do everything I can toalwaysreturn to ye. I’m doing this to make sure that can happen. I need to ken that whoever this is canna make ye their next target.”
Saoirse nodded. She understood and could accept what Magnus told her. It made sense—to her head. But her heart screamed at her to stop him, to not leave the safety of their chamber. Then she reminded herself that it was in this very chamber that Magnus nearly died. That memory left her feeling adrift, as though there was nowhere safe for him.
“Why’d they have to come all the way here? Why does anyone wish to harm ye that badly?” Saoirse thought aloud.
“If it is the Mathesons, then they didna accept the end of the betrothal like they said they did. Mayhap Laird Matheson blames me, or mayhap his vengeance is to save face. I dinna ken. But the Mackenzies are still recovering in numbers. We lost many warriors, along with villagers. We arenae weak, but we arenae as strong as we once were. I dinna want to bring ye to Eilean Donan when I ken there are more warriors to protect ye here. I trust Seamus and ken he wouldnae think twice aboot saving ye over saving himself. But I dinna want to bring a battle to our home when we dinna have the men to withstand an attack by more than the Mathesons.”
“Is his pride so fragile?”
“Most men’s is. He likely thinks bringing the Mackenzies low by killing me will make him appear more powerful than he is. I think he sent someone here, so it wouldnae be so obvious. If I died at home with nay explanation, it would look suspicious. But while I’m far from home and after traveling, it might be reasoned away, especially since poison would have killed me from a distance. Whoever set this in motion wishes nae only to punish me but to punish the Mackenzies.”
“What happens if the Matheson doesn’t take responsibility for this? Since yer prisoner said it wasna the Matheson who ordered this, why would he accept fault if ye kill the mon he supposedly didna send? Ye should ransom the mon back to get more information or for the laird to claim what he’s done. If he willna, then kill the prisoner and let Matheson watch from the battlements.”
Magnus listened to how simple Saoirse made it sound, and to an extent, he agreed. It surprised him that someone committed to keeping others alive would speak so blithely about someone dying. He released her and walked to the door. He could hear men’s voices belowstairs.
“Let’s suggest that to yer da and Grandda.” He was still growing accustomed to calling the men by their new-to-him monikers. Saoirse took his hand as they walked downstairs to the Great Hall. “Da?”
Plenty of people froze, but Alex grinned. “Aye.”
Saoirse and Magnus joined Alex, Callum, and Liam. Those around them returned to their work and conversations, but Saoirse sensed their curiosity after so many weeks of Magnus being at odds with her parents. She even sensed some relief among her clansmen and women.
“Saoirse had a sound suggestion.” Magnus peered down at Saoirse, who looked unprepared for Magnus to mention her role in their conversation. He gave her an encouraging smile, but he said nothing more.
“I asked Magnus what would happen if Laird Matheson refused to take responsibility for his clansman, even if he didna give the order. I suggested that ransoming the mon might make the Matheson talk, so instead of killing him here, take him with ye. If the Matheson willna admit aught, then let him see ye kill the prisoner. Then he might talk, or at least realize ye arenae there to jest.”
Alex, Callum, and Liam stared at Saoirse long enough that she shrank against Magnus. Alex stepped forward and kissed her cheek. When he leaned back, pride shone from him.
“I ken ye wouldnae have shared that idea before Magnus arrived. I’m glad ye have the confidence to speak yer mind. I’m sorry that ye didna before. That’s a good suggestion.”
“Did ye…?” Saoirse glanced toward the passageway to the dungeon.
“Nay. He’s still down there. We’ll set off in the morn. I suppose, in the meantime, he should have some food and drink.” Alex looked at Liam, who nodded. “Why dinna ye spend yer last evening together?”
“It’s nae our last. I’m coming.”
“Nay, ye arenae.” Four male voices boomed, but Saoirse held her ground. She cocked one eyebrow, and all four men wondered if singing the praises of her newfound confidence had been a little premature.
“Saoirse, ye are nae riding into a battle. I canna concentrate if I think ma wife is aboot to be killed.” Magnus glanced at Alex, Liam, and Callum, hoping they’d support him. They nodded, none of them liking the idea either. “None of us will focus.”
“If there is a battle, then ye’ll need a healer.” Saoirse stepped away from Magnus’s side, crossed her arms, and planted her feet hip-width apart.
“Nay.” Magnus shook his head. “Saoirse, be reasonable.” He wished to swallow the words as soon as he uttered them. The three Sinclair men looked everywhere but at the couple. All three men knew better than to mutter something so dangerous to a wife.
“Be reasonable? I’m supposed to stay here, like a wean ye’ve told what to do, and just wait to hear ye bled to death. Nay. I wouldnae be the first or the last healer to ride with her clan. I dinna need to be anywhere near the battle.”
“Nay. There willna be a safe place for ye to hide. While I’m on the battlefield with all of our men, someone could sneak around and take ye. Kill ye. Nay.” Saoirse’s suggestion horrified Magnus. He thought he might be ill.
Saoirse picked up a lock of her hair and held it out to Magnus. “Other than ma mother and me, only Isabella Hartley and her son, Kirk, have hair like ours this far north in the Highlands. Everyone kens they’re as much Sinclairs as I am. Someone may nae hesitate to kill the Mackenzie tánaiste, but nay one would kill a Sinclair woman. I dinna mean to be cruel, but Seamus has sons, even if they’re wee lads. They can replace ye. There isnae a soul in Scotland who wouldnae ken I’m a Sinclair and would wish the torturous death touching me would guarantee. There are seven clans that would avenge ma death. Magnus, ma mother and aunts didna get their reputations for being fiercely protective without reason. It’s a mad mon who crosses a Sinclair woman and thinks he’ll survive.”
