“Shh!” He glanced at Eleanor. “Is she yer gran?” he whispered.
Alana nodded. She reached for his plaid, to bring an end closer, as it was dark in the hallway. How would this lad know that Eleanor was her grandmother?
“Iain has commanded me to bring ye to him,” he said.
Her heart slammed. He wore the MacDonald colors, of course he did. She dropped the wool. Alana was so stunned, it was a moment before she could speak. “Iain sent you here?”
“He returns to Concarn, lady. But we must hurry. If I am caught they might whip me!”
Eleanor seized Alana’s arm, her eyes wide. “You cannot go.”
Shocked, Alana briefly met her wide, worried gaze. Images flashed—of Nairn aflame, and then of her in Iain’s arms.
Iain was sending for her.
Oh, God, what should she do?
She realized that she had not instantly ruled out the possibility of going to him. Instead, she was torn.
They had parted in anger and disappointment. After the night they had shared, it was a terrible and painful way to part. It still caused so much heartache.
She hadn’t thought he would still wish to be with her.
She was weighed down by her deception, as well. Not a day went by that she did not wish that she had told him the truth, and that they had gotten past the facts of her birth and her visions. It was so foolish to wish that he would love her for who she really was, and even though she knew that, she did.
It was too dangerous to go to him at Concarn—when he was with Robert Bruce. Wasn’t it?
And what of Brodie and its defenses? She thought of Godfrey. She still disliked him, but they shared one overriding ambition—to keep Brodie safe.
Before she could speak, the lad said boldly, “He said to tell ye he misses ye—and he will not take no for an answer.”
She gasped. Tears moistened her eyes. Oh, how skilled he was at wielding that final thrust! “How far is Concarn?”
“Alana!” Eleanor exclaimed. “Robert Bruce is at Concarn! You cannot go into his keeping!”
“A short day’s ride—we will be there by nightfall,” the boy said quickly.
She should not go. She must not go. Bruce was there. He could take her hostage.
She looked at Eleanor. “I have to see him again.”
Eleanor blanched. “Very well—but not now, not at Concarn!”
Her mind raced. Iain would never let Bruce hurt her, she was certain. “Iain will protect me,” she said.
“You think Iain will lie to his king for you?”
Alana stared at her grandmother, not quite seeing her. Was she mad? What if she was wrong? Iain was as ruthless as claimed; she had seen it, herself. But her heart was clamoring at her now.
The war only divides us if we let it.
“I have two horses hidden in the forest. I have furs and blankets. We must go!” the boy cried in a whisper.
She looked at Eleanor. “Tell Godfrey I have gone to see my father.”
“Alana, please, do not go,” Eleanor said, ashen.
“I have to go to him, Gran. I love him.”
