“Mistress, why would we believe, even for a moment, that your father and your uncle did not send you to bed one of my best commanders?”
She had to look at Bruce—into his eyes—and she trembled with fear. “Everyone knows my father abandoned me before I was even born, that he has no care for me, and that my grandmother raised me. I met Buchan for the first time, my lord, at Nairn, a week ago! Is that not reason enough to believe me?”
“No, it is not. Your father may have abandoned you before birth, but he or Buchan could have solicited you last week or the week before.”
Alana felt helpless.
Iain said, “She confessed her identity to me, Yer Grace, freely, of her own will.”
Bruce started. “A point in her favor,” he said.
“Why would I confess if I were a spy sent by Buchan or Sir Alexander?” she asked. She gave Iain a grateful glance.
He looked away grimly.
“You might have confessed because you knew you were in jeopardy of discovery,” Bruce said. “In such a circumstance, such a confession is usual.” He leaned close. “No one plays these games of politics and intrigue as well as I do, my dear. I know every nook and cranny of the maze.”
She recoiled.
He straightened. “Buchan did strike you and lock you up—how can I not think it a trap meant to lure Iain into your fold? Unless, of course, you can explain why he would beat and imprison his own niece.”
Alana stared grimly. In that moment, she knew that, unless Bruce meant to hang her, she would not reveal she was a witch. Iain felt betrayed already. She could not imagine his reaction to the other piece about her.
“She will not say why she was beaten and locked up,” Iain said harshly.
“It doesn’t matter,” Bruce said suddenly. He laid his hand on Alana’s shoulder. “Even if she is a spy, I am prepared to forgive her.”
Alana cried out. What trick was this?
Iain seemed as stunned. “Yer Grace?”
“As long as she proves how much she cares about you. It will be a test.” Bruce did not smile now. His stare was like daggers.
“I do care,” she whispered. “What do you wish of me?”
“You will become my spy,” he said. “And you will spy on your father and Buchan for me, all in the name of love.”
Alana stared at him in horror.
“Well, mistress?” Bruce finally smiled. “How difficult could it be?”
She finally cried, “I know nothing of spying!”
“You seem clever—I am sure you will learn,” Robert Bruce said.
* * *
ALANAWASSEATEDat the table on Iain’s left side. Strangers filled the rest of the benches, some of them northern Englishmen, others Scots from the Lowlands. Iain was the only Highlander present. Bruce sat at the table’s head.
Supper was being served, and everyone was eating and talking at once. Except for Alana, as she had no appetite.
She stared at her plate, a piece of fish resting there, aware of Iain, who was in conversation with Bruce, and acting as if he did not even know her. Pain knifed through her heart.
Had he ever loved her?
She had never dreamed he would feel so betrayed by her deception, or that he would believe her a spy. She had believed he would be angry but he would forgive her. And she had hoped he would protect her from Robert Bruce.
He had not.
