Margaret grasped at her to prevent her from standing. “No,” she said. “No, you mustn’t.”
“Of course we must. The fiend might still be in the area.”
“No, Brigid. I mean it. You can’t,” she said frantically. “It isn’t what you think. They can’t know...”
Margaret stopped, not wanting to say too much. Eoin might have broken her heart, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to die for it.
She forced herself to stand, though her legs wobbled, and tried to compose herself. Her friend watched her every move, as Margaret did what she could with her appearance.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” Brigid asked. “Your husband. He’s the one who did this to you. He’s the one you are trying to protect.”
Margaret tried to deny it, but she was a horrible liar, and Brigid knew her too well. In the end she was forced to admit it, or Brigid swore she would go right to Margaret’s father. “But you must swear to say nothing, Brigid—not to anyone. It might be over, but I still love him.” Hot tears filled her eyes again. “It’s over, Brige. It’s really over.”
Her friend enfolded her in her embrace and did her best to console her. But Brigid could not put back together what had been shattered.
“Are you sure?” Brigid asked.
There was something in her friend’s gaze that Margaret didn’t understand. An intensity—a vehemence—with which she asked her question.
Margaret nodded. “Aye. I’m sure.” Her voice caught with a sob. “He doesn’t want me.”
Once again she was enfolded in her friend’s arms. Brigid squeezed and rocked her back and forth. “Then he’s a fool, Maggie Beag, and he doesn’t deserve you. Maybe... maybe a definitive end will be best.”
It almost sounded like a question, but Margaret was too devastated to heed the warning.
Margaret didn’t realize her mistake until the following morning, when she rose after a sleepless night and tried to open her bedchamber door. Perhaps the only benefit of being the sole female in the family was that she’d been given a small, private solar on the second floor of the tower house.
She pulled a few times on the handle, but it had been barred from the outside. At first she thought it was a mistake and knocked loudly, calling for someone’s attention. But when one of her father’s soldiers brought her food to break her fast, she realized it wasn’t a mistake.
She barraged him with questions, which went unanswered, and demanded to be released, which he uncomfortably refused. When it was clear she would get nowhere with him, she asked to see her father.
Over the long hours that her father kept her waiting, she was forced to consider the possibility that her best friend had betrayed her.
A fact that was confirmed for her a few minutes after Dugald MacDowell strode into the room. He looked like a cat who’d just eaten a big fat mouse as he took off his helm, slammed it on the table, and collapsed in her favorite chair before the brazier.
She stood in front of him practically shaking in frustration. “What is the meaning of this, Father? Why have I been locked in my chamber all day?”
His eyes narrowed just a little at her tone, and maybe on another day he would have chastised her, but today he was too pleased with himself. “It’s for your own protection.”
“For mywhat?”
His smile turned just a tad cold. “I wouldn’t want your duty to become confused.”
Then he told her just how horribly she’d been betrayed. Brigid had told him—actually she’d told Dougal— everything. She stared at her father in numb disbelief. “But why? Why would Brigid do this?”
He shrugged indifferently. “Why should I care? But I suspect it’s some silly lass’s infatuation with your brother. She has always mooned after him.”
She had? How could Margaret not have noticed? But it still didn’t make any sense.
“Would that it had been my own daughter who brought me news of the rebel’s presence instead.”
She didn’t miss the none-too-subtle reproach. But even her father could not deny that she owed Eoin her loyalty. “He’s my husband, Father.”
“Not for much longer.”
His certainty sent a chill into her heart. “Please, Father, you must believe that I have no idea where he is. I’m sure Eoin is long gone by now.”
“I’m sure he’s nothing of the sort. We’ve been expecting an attack, and your husband’s presence in the area has all but confirmed it. Loch Ryan is the perfect place to safely land a significant number of ships. Have you not noticed all the men I’ve been mobilizing in the area for the past month? I’ve spread them out among the nearby castles trying to prevent the rebels from knowing our strength. We’ll have a wonderful surprise waiting for them. Tonight, I’d wager.”
