Jeannie nodded. “I’d hoped to see the old nurse, Kathrine.”
The young maid looked at her in surprise. “Katy?”
“Yes, I was sorry to hear of her passing.”
She nodded. “Aye, it was a horrible tragedy.” She lowered her voice. “Poor Katy must have slipped on the cliffs while walking home. She washed ashore a week after she went missing. The only way they could identify her was by her hair. Like spun gold it was, twisted with the kelp.”
Jeannie grimaced, not needing the gory details. But wait—she frowned—gold? “I understood her to have black hair.” Like her son.
Maid shook her head. “Nay, mistress. Katy’s hair was as bright as the sun. ’Twas her pride and joy, those curls.”
Jeannie felt a prickle of excitement and tried to tamp it down. Hair “like a raven’s wing,” Lady MacDonald had said. Perhaps Jeannie had misunderstood. But she hadn’t. Maybe the old woman had been confused. That must be it.
But she hadn’t seemed confused.
The niggle at the back of her neck that something was wrong wouldn’t leave her. Had Lady MacDonald lied to them?
All her instincts—
She stopped.Instincts.That alone should prevent her from going any further. She already felt foolish for insisting on dragging Duncan on this journey in the first place.
It was probably nothing, an innocent mistake.
But what if it wasn’t?
She couldn’t let it go. If there was a chance that Lady MacDonald knew something she had to take it. But Duncan was eager to leave. And the way he felt about her right now, she wasn’t sure he’d be willing to listen to anything she said. She turned to the maid who was watching her with an expectant look on her face. “Could you arrange for someone to take me to the castle?”
“Aye, my brother Davy could take you, but don’t you want to wait until your guardsman returns?”
“Actually, I’d rather he not know that I’ve gone.” At least before he could order her not to go. This way, if she was wrong, he need not ever know. “If he comes to look for me…” She thought quickly for an explanation. Seeing the small fan she’d used to help revive Lady MacDonald peeking out of her purse, she shoved it down and tied the bag around her waist. “Tell him that I forgot my fan yesterday at the castle and have gone to retrieve it. I will return as soon as I can.”
The maid bobbed. “Aye, my lady. I’ll go find Davy right now.”
“Before you do, if I could trouble you for one more thing?”
The girl nodded.
“Might I borrow a plaid?”
The maid hardly blinked—Jeannie suspected she was not the first person to sneak out of this inn. “Of course.”
A short while later, Jeannie tiptoed down the stairs, avoiding the main room where she knew the men were and passing into the kitchen instead. The maid led her out the back door, past a well and small garden to the stables.
Her brother—Davy—was a few years older than his sister and as thin as the girl was round. He stood waiting for her with a sturdy Highland pony. Knowing that Duncan would have a guardsman stationed outside, Jeannie adjusted the borrowed plaid over her head like a hood and kept her face down. Though her “disguise” wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny, she hoped the guard would take a quick glance and think her a woman from the village.
It must have worked because no one stopped them. They made quick work of the three mile or so journey, arriving at the castle just as the cock had begun to crow.
Once inside the courtyard, they tethered the ponies near the stables and Jeannie went to beg her second audience with Lady MacDonald, praying that this time it proved more fruitful.
Colin Campbell had waited until dark before landing in a small inlet just north of Leodamas, using the night to shroud his arrival on Islay. If reports of his brother’s battle skills held true, which he did not doubt—Duncan had always been annoyingly accomplished at everything—he would need the benefit of surprise to capture him. Just to be sure, however, anotherbirlinnwaited outside the bay to cut off any attempt at escape.
Colin knew Duncan was here. As soon as his men had seen the boat leave Castleswene and head down the sound, Colin guessed where his brother was heading.
The spy he had in Dunyvaig amongst the MacDonalds’ guardsmen confirmed it. They were on Islay—at an inn at the village. They’d left the castle yesterday after a short meeting with Mary MacDonald.
The fact that Duncan was here meant he was too close. Though Colin was certain he’d taken care of everything, there was always a possibility he’d missed something. He’d hoped this wouldn’t be necessary, but he couldn’t take the chance.
But Colin wasn’t without filial sentiment, the thought of what he had to do held no enjoyment for him. He’d always looked up to Duncan—had wanted to be just like him—which he supposed had always been the problem. He was destined to fall short.
