“I’ve been searchin’ as ye asked,” Finnian said, settling onto a rough stool. “There’s a hidden gate in the eastern gardens. The savage showed it tae Claricia himself, apparently.”
Duncan’s pulse quickened.Perfect.“Can ye reach it without bein’ seen?”
“Aye. I can ask her tae walk with me after the feast tomorrow night. Lead her there under pretense of wantin’ privacy tae speak.” Finnian’s hands clenched into fists on his knees. “But Duncan, ye swore tae me—swore—this would be a rescue. That nae harm would come tae her, or Erik and his people. That we’d take her somewhere safe while I properly petition the king fer an annulment and there wouldn’t be any bloodshed.”
“And that’s exactly what we’ll dae,” He leaned forward, letting sincerity coat every word like honey over poison. “I want her safe as much as ye dae, Finnian. She was meant tae beme wife,remember? D’ye truly think I’d risk harmin’ her?”
Finnian’s expression softened marginally. “I ken ye cared fer her once.”
Cared.The word was ash in Duncan’s mouth. He’downedher—or would have, if that royal decree hadn’t torn his future apart. Claricia had been his path to power, his connection to wealth and influence. Without her, Clan MacRae was crumbling faster than a sandcastle at high tide.
“I still dae,” Duncan said, forcing his voice to crack just slightly. “Which is why I need tae ken—how is she? Truly.”
Finnian’s jaw worked. “Too well, if I’m honest. She…” He looked away, shame and confusion warring across his features. “She defends him. Claims he’s nae the monster I believed. That shewantstae stay.”
Duncan’s blood went cold, then hot with rage so pure it nearly choked him. He stood abruptly, knocking his stool backward with enough force to make Finnian flinch. “The man’s a wolf dressed in Highland silk. He’s manipulated her.”
“She seemed… happy.”
The word was a blade between Duncan’s ribs.
“Then we save her fromherself,” Duncan said quietly, too calmly. “Tomorrow night.”
Finnian studied him for a long moment, and Duncan held his breath, wondering if the old fool would finally see through the deception. But then Finnian nodded slowly, shoulders bowing under the weight of impossible choices.
“I dinnae ken what’s right anymore,” Finnian admitted. “But I ken I willnae lose another child tae those Norse bastards. If there’s even a chance she’s in danger...”
“There is,” Duncan assured him. “And I’ll protect her. Ye have me word.”
Me word means exactly as much as I need it tae.
They spoke for another hour—Duncan carefully feeding Finnian’s fears, painting Erik as a threat cleverly disguised as a husband, suggesting that Claricia’s apparent contentment was merely survival instinct. By the time the older man left, rowing back toward the castle under cover of darkness, Duncan’s mask had begun to slip.
“Old fool believed every word,” Gregor said from the tent entrance from where he’d been listening. The scarred warrior stepped inside, his one good eye gleaming with something like admiration. “Ye played him like a master bard, me laird.”
“Aye.” Duncan poured himself whisky from a flask, the cheap spirits burning down his throat. “He’s so desperate tae play protector, he cannae see I’m usin’ his love against him.”
“And when he realizes the truth?”
“He willnae live long enough tae regret it.” Duncan’s voice went flat. “Once we have Claricia, Finnian becomes a liability. Same as the Viking filth.”
Gregor moved to the maps, tracing the coastline with one thick finger. “Ye’re certain ye want the Wolf dead? The king willnae take kindly tae?—”
“I dinnae give a bloodydamnwhat the king thinks!” The words exploded from Duncan like arrows from a drawn bow. “Dae ye ken what that royal decreecost me? Everythin’ I spentyearsbuildin’—gone in the blink of an eye all because some uncultured heathen caught the king’s fancy fer hisgoddamnLairds’ Pact.”
He stalked to the tent’s edge, staring out at the dark water. “Me people are starvin’, Gregor. The harvest failed. The rents havenae been paid. Other clans smell blood in the water and circle like sharks. I needed Finnian’s gold, his connections, hisnametied tae mine through marriage tae Claricia. Without that...”
“Yer clan falls.”
“Aye.” Duncan’s hands clenched into fists. “So aye, I want Erik dead. I want his castle burned tae ash. I want every man who followed him intae battle tae understand what happens when they steal from Duncan MacRae.”
Gregor was quiet for a long moment, then spoke carefully. “And we’ve already tried twice tae take her from him. Ye paid good coin fer those raids, me laird.”
“And theyfailed spectacularly!” Duncan spat the word like poison. “Six men dead on that coast road, and what did we gain? Naethin’ but proof that Thorsen’s faster than I credited him fer. The ambush on the ship was supposed tae besimple—take her before she ever reached the island, claim she was kidnapped by common raiders, demand ransom from Finnian. Instead, the Wolf appeared like some bloody hero from a saga and saved her.”
Duncan’s voice dripped scorn.
“What are yer orders, me laird?”
