Glynis left the path and pushed her way through the brush to the edge of the loch. The sight that met her should have been a peaceful image: a beautiful dark-haired woman leading a fair-haired child out for a swim in a quiet loch on a golden afternoon.
The water was up to Sorcha’s chest. Instead of splashing and playing in the water as she did when Alex took her swimming, her slight body was stiff. Catherine was pulling on her arm.
“Can I join ye?” Glynis called out, as she pushed her way through the last of the bushes. “There’s nothing I like better than a swim in the late afternoon.”
When Catherine looked up, Glynis pretended not to notice her furious expression and gave her a bright smile. But her heart turned in her chest when she saw that Sorcha’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears.
“Oh dear,” Glynis said, looking about her as if she were dimwitted, “it looks as if ye forgot to bring dry clothes.”
“A maid is following with them,” Catherine said. “I don’t know what’s keeping her.”
“Ach, maids,” Glynis said, shaking her head. “It appears she has forgotten, so you’d best come in. Alex MacDonald is verra protective of his wee daughter, and he won’t be pleased if she catches cold.”
Catherine looked down at Sorcha. “I’ll bring ye back another day, I promise.”
As soon as Catherine released Sorcha’s wrist, the child ran out of the water and straight into Glynis’s arms.
“Such a fearful child,” Catherine said. “Ye can tell she was not born a Highlander.”
A murderous rage pounded through Glynis. But while in the heart of the Campbell stronghold, it would not pay to call the chieftain’s sister the liar that she was.
Pretending nothing had happened while she walked beside Catherine and held the shaking child in her arms was one of the hardest things Glynis had ever done. If she had not left her dirk in the bedchamber, Catherine’s dead body might well have been found on the path later that day.
Clearly, Catherine had decided she wanted Alex—and not his child.
“As ye say, Sorcha was not born a Highlander,” Glynis said. “I fear she will have a difficult time adjusting to Alexander MacDonald’s home. ’Tis a lonely, desolate place.”
Of course, Glynis had never been there. If she could dissuade Catherine from pursuing Alex, however, Sorcha would be safe from her.
“What is Alex’s home like?” Catherine asked.
“It sits on a high cliff facing north over the sea, where the wind is always blowing.” Glynis shuddered. “They don’t get many visitors there. Ye could go weeks without seeing a soul outside the household.”
Catherine frowned. “How many are in the household?”
“I fear the family has hit on hard times,” Glynis said, and shook her head.
“But Alexander’s cousin is chieftain, and he holds Alex in high esteem.”
“That is true enough, but the chieftain must keep all his warriors at his own castle, Dunscaith,” Glynis said. “Unfortunately, he can offer little help when pirates attack, as they frequently do. And then, of course, there are the MacLeods.”
“Ach, you’re just jealous,” Catherine said, a smile curving her lips. “I’ve seen how ye look at Alexander.”
Damn, Glynis was never good at lying. What else could she do to protect the child? If she told Alex what she’d seen, he would not believe Catherine intended to murder the child. And she could not blame him, for no one would. And yet, Glynis had never been more certain of anything in her life.
Glynis kept her gaze fixed ahead as she marched along the path. Her skin itched from the child’s damp heat soaking through the front of her gown. Though her arms grew weary, she held Sorcha tight against her. When they reached the fork in the path, Catherine stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Let go of me,” Glynis said, her façade breaking.
“I’m doing ye a favor, Glynis, for we both know ye couldn’t keep a man like Alex satisfied,” Catherine said with her cat’s smile. “He’ll be in my bed tonight—and he won’t want to leave it.”
With that, Catherine turned and started up the fork that climbed the hill, her wet gown clinging to every curve.
Glynis understood why Shaggy had left the woman on a tidal rock.
* * *
Alex was in a foul mood as he waited for the guards to admit him into the Campbell chieftain’s private chamber. By now, D’Arcy would have told Glynis of his true intentions. Alex had put off visiting his daughter because he didn’t want to find Glynis weeping her eyes out over the Frenchman.
