Sorcha noticed that the lady paled now as betrayal was mentioned and wondered if it was her delicate condition or her family connection to the one whom Sorcha was about to implicate in a plan against her husband.
‘My lady, do you wish to hear this in...your condition?’ Sorcha asked, trying to be mindful that Arabella had extended every kindness and welcome to her during these last weeks. When Arabella sat up a bit straighter, Sorcha wondered if her words were misconstrued. ‘I mean no insult, lady. I have long been accustomed to the truth of my father’s nature, but I do not presume to ken your knowledge of your uncle’s.’
‘And I hold no pretences about Gilbert Cameron,’ the lady said. ‘Let us be frank amongst ourselves since you have come with an offer of information.’
‘And a demand for a bargain, Bella. Forget not that part of it,’ The Mackintosh said.
The lady rose then and walked to her husband’s side, touching his arm as if to draw him back. Their gazes met and Sorcha could not help but long for such a look from a strong man such as this one. Her heart stung then as she realised Alan had looked at her with the same expression of love in his eyes...just before she sent him away. A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly, hoping they’d not seen it. She could not take the risk of appearing weak now.
‘A woman is wise to bargain when she has the power to do so, Brodie. You ken that as I do. Come, let us sit and discuss this quandary and the threat to our families.’
The chieftain stepped aside now and walked with his wife to an alcove where several chairs sat. After the lady sat down, he nodded to Sorcha who did the same. Only then did he sit. Thoughts and words raced through her mind as she attempted to find the right place to begin her plea. Instead, her curiosity won out.
‘How long have you kenned?’ she asked, looking at him. He did not pretend not to understand her question.
‘I suspected when my wife began asking her questions. Her suspicions are usually well grounded, but I ken more of my family’s connections than she does.’ His wife sputtered at his words, but he laid his hand over hers to ease her insult. ‘When I thought on the connections between the MacPhersons and the MacNeills, I remembered my father’s cousin Erca who would be known to Clara. Then there was your letter to your cousin in the convent...’
Sorcha gasped as he unveiled the extent of his knowledge. She’d placed both her mother’s cousins in a terrible place of being exposed to this man.
‘You opened my letter?’
‘Aye.’ No apology, no explanation, would come from this chieftain. The lady’s expression confirmed that she’d read it as well.
‘My lord, I pray you not to hold Clara responsible for my transgressions. She felt the duty owed to kin and I...’
‘Worry not on that, Sorcha,’ the man said with a shrug. ‘I do not begrudge her helping you. But I am interested in what brought you to my village and to her door.’
‘Pure happenstance and accident,’ she admitted. ‘None of this was supposed to happen. If everything had gone according to the plan my mother made—’
‘Life rarely follows plans,’ Arabella whispered.
‘What did your mother have in mind? Why the convent?’ he asked quietly.
Sorcha did not miss the importance of his question, for it would bring up kith and kin and expose many secrets. She realised she must not reveal everything until she had Brodie’s agreement to her terms. She would help him protect his clan if he helped her protect... Alan.
‘Youmustpromise me first,’ she said.
‘Although my wife thinks otherwise, lady, you actually have little power right now in this. Now that you have confirmed your identity, there is nothing to stop me from contacting your father and your betrothed with the happy news of your survival. They would both be beholden to me for my aid to you in your time of need.’
Her first reaction was purely physical—her stomach roiled and threatened to heave up its contents. Then, her body urged her to run, to run fast and far, to run now. Tremors shook their way through her as she fought for control. She could not allow everything to be ruined now, not when she understood she must walk away from the man she loved in order to protect him. This was too important for him. She cleared her throat and placed both hands flat on the table before her in an attempt to calm herself.
‘Unlike my father and unlike the lady’s uncle, you are a man of honour, Brodie Mackintosh. Alan told me I could trust you and I will.’ The two exchanged some glance, one that seemed to say she’d confirmed something they suspected. ‘And, if you send the news that I am alive, they will simply wait and find another way to break the treaty and destroy all you hold dear.’
He made a sound like an exhalation but it carried in it some acceptance of her words. At his nod, she continued.
‘My mother and I kenned I would have to disappear and not be found. There were not many options in that regard and the convent seemed the best place for me.’ She paused and took a breath. She must be controlled. She must leave her emotions out of this for now. ‘I confess no true vocation, but a life of quiet contemplation is not unappealing.’
Now it was the lady’s turn to let out a protesting breath. Her husband gave a visible squeeze to her hand that he yet held under his.
‘I did not mean to show up here and involve you. I meant to make my way to Skye and enter the convent and no one would ever hear the name Sorcha MacMillan again.’ She shook her head at how wrongly things had gone. ‘My mother chose a friend to help me escape. Actually I kenned nothing of her plans until he arrived that night at my tent to take me away. I followed him, making our way through the storm and to the west. When he died, I had no choice but to seek help from kin.’
She stopped then, not certain what else he wanted to hear from her. Glancing from one to the other, she waited.
‘And the bargain you wish me to make in exchange for the knowledge and details you hold?’ he asked.
‘A simple one—help me disappear. Aid me in getting to the convent and I will provide you with the information you need to ensure the safety of your people.’
‘And you do not think that knowing what I ken now is enough for me to do that? Now that I am aware of the threat—’
