“Lady Campbell is correct.”
The words settled across the room like a command. Several captains shifted uneasily.
“Me laird,” one began, “with respect?—”
Domhnall’s hand came down lightly on the table, but still firmly enough that no one continued speaking.
“The MacGregors expect us tae defend the routes we have always used,” he reiterated what Margaret had already stated. “That is precisely why they will fail.”
His finger followed the same line Margaret had traced along the coast.
“We reroute the shipments through the southern coves.”
Cameron nodded once. “And the wagons?”
Domhnall glanced briefly toward Margaret before answering. “We send them.”
A faint smile tugged at Cameron’s mouth. “Empty.”
“Aye.”
Another captain frowned. “They may discover the deception.”
“Perhaps,” Domhnall agreed. “But by then the cargo will already be beyond their reach.” He straightened. “Prepare the decoy wagons.”
The men around the table shifted into motion almost immediately. Orders were repeated and messengers were called for. Cameron rolled up one of the maps and handed it to a waiting guard.
“Send riders tae the southern ports,” he said. “Inform them tae expect redirected shipments within the week.”
The guard nodded and hurried from the hall. Another messenger followed moments later with sealed instructions for the wagon routes.
Margaret remained standing beside the table. She had not realized she was still holding her breath until it escaped her slowly. Domhnall had not merely allowed her suggestion. He haddeclaredit, before all of them.
Her gaze lifted toward him. Domhnall met her eyes briefly. There was no ceremony in the look, only certainty in her words, as though it had never been in doubt. She understood what his support meant before the captains and before the clan. He hadchosen to stand beside her not merely as husband, but as laird who trusted her voice among his own men.
And somehow that realization felt almost as powerful as the victory they had just begun to plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Two days later, the castle had settled into a strained sort of calm. The smoke had long since faded from the corridors, though the scent of burned timber still lingered faintly in certain corners. Margaret found herself seated at the small writing table near the window.
A sheet of parchment lay before her, the ink still wet where she had begun the letter. For a long moment, she simply held the quill between her fingers, staring out toward the distant hills.
It felt strange to write of ordinary things again after the chaos of the past days. Yet she knew her sister would already have heard whispers of the attack. And Eleonor worried far too easily.
Margaret dipped the quill again and continued writing.
Me dearest Eleonor,
I hope this letter finds ye safe and in good spirits, though I suspect by the time it reaches ye, the countryside will already be full of exaggerated tales about Inveraray. Ye must nae believe half of what ye hear, fer Highland storytellers have a habit of making every skirmish sound like the fall of a kingdom.
There was indeed trouble here two nights ago. A small band of MacGregor men attempted tae breach the castle. They were driven away quickly and the damage tae the household was far less severe than rumor will surely claim. I assure ye that I am perfectly well.
Domhnall has spent the past two days ensuring I remain surrounded by guards whenever I step beyond the chamber doors. Ye would laugh tae see it. I suspect the entire household now believes I am made of glass.
Please dinnae worry fer me.
If anything, the incident has only made one matter very clear, Inveraray is far stronger than those who would threaten it. The clan rallied quickly, and Domhnall’s captains have already put new measures in place to secure the roads and ports. Watching them work thegither has been… rather remarkable.
