“True,but they have weakened you. They were left untended for far too long. Yehavenae got the strength to be a guard tonight. Howbeit, ye will have enough totend your cousin if he needs aid.”
“Andthat will be a great help, Beatham,” Margaret said. “After all, if we had tostand watchandcare for Sir Kerr, we would get no sleep at all.”
Sorchainwardly grimaced as she listened to Beatham talk grandly about the honor ofhelping such bonnie lasses. She cleared away the meal and, ordering Margaret tohelp Beatham spread out his bedding next to Ruari, went to get the bed pack sheand Margaret would share. Her pony playfully nudged her as she reached hisside, and she took a moment to see to his needs. Margaret joined her just asshe finished watering the animal.
“Doye wish me to take first watch?” Margaret asked, idly scratching Bansith’s ear.
“Nay,I will.” She handed Margaret the bedding. “Spread this near the fire and keepyour weapons close at hand.”
“Aye,I will.” Margaret studied Sorcha for a moment before asking, “Does somethingtrouble you?”
Sorchabriefly pondered a way to gently explain her concerns to Margaret then decidedthat directness was best. “I think ye would be wise not to get too friendlywith Beatham Kerr.”
“Why?He seems a nice young mon.”
“Oh,aye, a sweet boy.”
“Boy?He must be your age, twenty or so.”
“True,but there is still a boyish air about him,” Sorcha said, smiling faintly. “HowI feel about him doesnae matter. I but try to stop you from losing your heartto a mon ye can ne’er have. He will soon count himself your enemy.”
“Why?What could we e’er do that would turn the Kerrs against us?”
“HoldSir Ruari and Beatham for ransom.”
“Idinnae understand.”
Checkingto be certain Beatham was still too far away to overhear her, Sorcha replied, “Dougalis being held by the English. They will demand a ransom for him. Ye ken as weelas I that we have naught to buy his freedom with. The Kerrs of Gartmhor havesome riches. As soon as I ken what the English demand for Dougal’s life, I willask that much from the Kerrs. I really have no choice,” she added when she sawhow crestfallen Margaret looked.
“ButBeatham has played the courtier even though he kens he is a prisoner forransom. Mayhap that means the Kerrs willnae hold it against us.”
“Hedoesnae ken he is a prisoner yet.” Sorcha idly rubbed at her temple, vainlyattempting to massage away a beginning headache. She cursed Dougal for hisimpetuousness, for his mad search for glory which would now cost his familydearly. “I havenae told him or Sir Ruari.”
“Whynot? It seems they have a right to ken we arenotthe rescuers they thinkwe are.”
“Theydo, and I detest this deception, but it must be played out. They must not kenour plans until we are at the gates of Dunweare. We are but two lasses. Aye,they are wounded men, and we have fighting skills, but ‘tis far safer if weplay this game. If they ken my plan they may try to escape. Weel, I need nottell you of all the trouble that could come down on our heads.”
“Nay.”Margaret sighed and cast a longing glance Beatham’s way. “He is such a sweet,bonnie mon. I felt a true softening toward him.”
“Iken it. ‘Tis why I felt I must warn you.”
“MayhapBeatham would understand and forgive us.”
“Hemay, but Ruari is his laird, and that mon willnae forget and forgive.”
“Aye,I think ye are right. How sad.”
“Iam sorry, Cousin.”
“‘Tisnaeyour fault. ‘Tis Dougal’s. He put himself in jeopardy. Although he can be anutter fool at times, our clan needs him. Ye must do all ye can to get him back.‘Tisnae your fault that I feel drawn to Beatham either.”
“Ifit will help any, what I ask of ye now may just make the end of that courtshipcome sooner than later.”
“Whatdo ye mean? Dinnae ye think I could win the heart of a mon like Beatham?”Margaret demanded.
“Ofcourse ye could. Aye, I suspect ye could draw a promise of marriage from himere we reach Dunweare. And then he could meet our kinsmen and kinswomen.”Sorcha smiled crookedly as she watched a look of understanding slowly transformMargaret’s pretty round face.
“Oh,them.”
