Gabriel did hear it, a piercing peal of laughter coming from the direction of the tower where he had left Magdalene.
Not docile at all, but so raucous and high-pitched that it carried down the steps like lightning and into the great hall, ringing from the pitched rafters.
“Good God, is she playing some lunatic’s game with the servants?” Seoras queried Gabriel as an amused grin lit his ruddy face. “We’ll need no performers at the feast from the sound of it, Mad Maggie certain to entertain us!”
As some of the barons and their men broke into laughter, holding out their cups for comely maidservants to fill, Gabriel clenched the one he’d been given in his fist.
“Are such festivities a wise thing on the eve of battle?” he grated, glancing toward the nearest tower as more shrill laughter made him wonder if Magdalene might make herself sick from the intensity of it. “Mayhap it would be better tae wait—”
“Nonsense, man!” Seoras cut him off, looking affronted by Gabriel’s suggestion. “All is in readiness and after our refreshment, we’ll tour the battlements so the lot of you can see the fortress is impregnable—impregnable, I tell you! Now drink up!”
The rest of the barons rushed forward to oblige, whether solemn-faced or not, while Gabriel took a swallow that nearly choked him.
No more laughter came from the tower, and he wondered if the servants who had been sent to attend Magdalene might have stuffed a cloth in her mouth.
Either that or she had plopped onto the bed in exhaustion from such an effort, the ruse that he’d made her promise to continue certainly convincing. He wanted so badly to make some excuse and go to her—was that riotous display a signal that she needed him?—and he even lowered his barely touched cup to the table.
“Dinna trouble yourself with my sister,” Seoras’s voice broke into his thoughts as if sensing his disquiet. “Your concern for her welfare is commendable, but she has servants aplenty tae care for her. Now pick up your cup and drink, MacLachlan. You’ve much tae celebrate! When Robert the Bruce is defeated, you’ll have twice the land and castles! You can lock Mad Maggie in the highest tower after she bears you a son, and forget about her altogether.”
The heartless timbre of Seoras’s voice chilling him, Gabriel did as he was bade, though he hated Seoras at that moment.
The wine bitter on his tongue while his mind once more flew to Magdalene, wondering again why she had grown so quiet. If anyone did anything at all to harm her…
* * *
“Lady MacLachlan?”
Startled from lying flat on her back on the bed, Magdalene sat bolt upright and stared in astonishment at Conall Campbell poking his head into the room.
Upon seeing her, he at once registered relief on his handsome face, and he started to back out even as she lunged from the bed to run to him.
“Wait, please!”
She’d hissed at him for the red-haired maidservant that had stayed behind to watch her after Magdalene had bathed and dressed had nodded off in a chair near the door. Thankfully the girl remained fast asleep, her chin resting on her chest, her snores a chorus of snorts and gurgles.
“I canna stay,” Conall hissed back as Magdalene reached him. “Gabriel couldna come up himself so he asked me tae check on your welfare. I’m happy tae tell him you are well—och, Maggie, where are you going?”
She had pushed past him into the hallway, whirling the cloak she’d grabbed from a peg near the door over her lavender gown and throwing the hood over her head. She wasn’t surprised that he had addressed her in so familiar a manner; he and Gabriel were the closest of friends after all. Nor was she taken aback that he seemed fully aware that she was no lunatic, just as she had thought earlier in the day of his captains.
“I must see my husband!” she blurted in explanation, continuing down the hall as Conall strode after her. “This news canna wait another moment—”
“Gabriel’s with your brother and the rest of the barons. He didna think I’d be missed tae come back inside tae check on you, but I canna take you with me! They’ll be inspecting the ramparts by now, and then the armory and wherever else Earl Seoras orders them. They might very well go right up tae the feast and you’ll see him there—”
“No, Conall, I canna wait until the feast!” Magdalene stopped so suddenly that he nearly crashed into her, his tall physique somehow dodging her with great agility. Tears bit her eyes, which made him swallow hard and stare at her with dismay.
“Ah, Maggie, Gabriel will never forgive me tae have made you cry. He loves you more than life, lass—aye, even now he must be grinding his teeth at wondering about your welfare. After all that crazed laughter coming from the tower—”
“So everyone heard me? Good!” Magdalene swiped at her tears and grabbed Conall’s arm, as hard and muscled as Gabriel’s. “Tell my husband that he’ll find me in the stable. I know where tae hide and I’ll watch for him! I know this fortress as well as any—please, you must go quickly!”
She didn’t wait for a reply, but hastened away from him and skipped down the steps, a low curse telling her what Conall thought of her plan.
She didn’t think it so wise, either, but what else was she to do?
Even if she waited impatiently until the feast, there was always a chance she and Gabriel wouldn’t be seated together and then what? He needed to know of Seoras’s treachery! Keeping her head lowered, she reached the bottom of the steps and was grateful to see that servants bustled to and from the great hall, all of them too busy making preparations for the feast to notice her.
She didn’t tarry, but rushed outside through a massive arched doorway into an afternoon grown overcast, the air smelling of rain. The bailey, too, was alive with commotion, grunting clansmen practicing drills with sword and spear that made her keep to the edge of the buildings and out of the way.
Her heart raced at the masculine voices carrying to her from along the ramparts, but she didn’t dare to look up to try and see Gabriel. She prayed that Conall had gone at once to rejoin him, her sole mission to reach the stable and duck into an empty stall.
