Chapter Fourteen
In the greathall of Duncan McAfee’s keep, four men surrounded an oak table laden with history. Lachlan McClain shattered the silence.
“Laird McAfee, we must act while Ailis remains captive within Sinclair’s walls,” Lachlan implored, eyes burning with determination. “We need to gather our forces—both McAfee and McClain—and storm their castle.”
Duncan, experienced in leadership, met Lachlan’s ardor with a measured expression. “Yer courage is admirable, but patience,” he advised softly. “An army will hasten her end. I fear the Sinclairs would slay her before we breach their gate.”
Alisdair agreed silently, his assessing eyes revealing a strategic mind. Brodie stood apart, contemplative.
“How shall we proceed to rescue Ailis without condemning her?” Lachlan asked, seriousness replacing his usual cheer. “We canna do anything that would put her at risk.”
Duncan steepled his fingers, signaling a clever scheme taking shape. “Subtlety. Guile where force would fail.” He paused, picturing their path forward. “We’ll devise a plan that saves Ailis without bloodshed. Our honor demands it.”
*
In the towerchamber, Ailis McAfee paced restlessly. She was used to being outdoors daily, and her confinement in the towerwas going to make her crazy. She had to get out of there and soon.
The door creaked open. Ian entered, his once charming smile now laced with cruelty. “Me bonny Ailis,” he began with a silky voice, “I’ve come to ask ye again, will ye not consent to be me bride?”
Ailis turned to face him, her green eyes fierce and defiant. “I widnae marry ye if ye were the last man in all of Scotland,” she declared.
Unfazed, Ian moved closer, intent clear in his gaze. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her without permission. Ailis resisted, stomping on his foot and biting his lip. “Yer very touch sickens me,” she uttered through gritted teeth.
Ian stumbled back, anger mixed with grudging admiration in his eyes. Ailis held her ground, her heart pounding. Ian had met his match with her, and she would happily do something she’d vowed as a healer never to do. She would kill him if given the opportunity. The realization that she would take a life and not feel guilt for it shocked her to her core. How could she be so cruel as to kill a man, and not feel as if she would burn in hell? It made no sense to her.
But she knew if she could get her hands on a knife, she would throw it straight through his black heart without hesitation.
*
Outside the keep’swalls, Lachlan and his brothers approached in disguise. Cloaked in Sinclair colors and false locks of hair, they moved toward the tower with unwavering resolve.
Upon entering the bailey, Lachlan scanned for any sign of recognition while moving swiftly. As they neared the stairwell, however, Sinclair guards emerged, glaring suspiciously. Forced to speak with them rather than risk discovery, Lachlan engagedthem in conversation while secretly agonizing over the urgency of their mission.
“Apologies, good sirs,” Lachlan began calmly. “We seek audience with our chieftain on matters most pressing.”
“Ye’ll find no passage here,” one guard replied, barring the way. “Be off with ye, ’ere trouble finds yer necks.”
Lachlan withdrew alongside Alisdair and Brodie, their retreat hiding the frustration that threatened to boil over. They left the keep with tension in their shoulders, aware that a more daring plan was now necessary.
Lachlan’s jaw clenched as he beheld the Sinclair guards, their eyes narrow with suspicion. Despite the failed ruse, determination burned within him. He would not leave without assurance of Ailis’s well-being.
“Before we depart,” Lachlan addressed the guard, “I must insist upon speaking with Lady Ailis. I need to know she remains unharmed before any negotiation can commence between our clans.”
The soldiers exchanged wary glances but ultimately could not deny his request. They didn’t want a full-out war any more than the McClain men did. “Very well,” the lead guard conceded, gesturing for Lachlan to follow. “Ye may speak to her through the door. No more.”
Lachlan climbed solemnly. He would give anything to be able to see Ailis and verify that she was all right, but he understood it couldn’t happen.
At last, they stood before a heavy wooden door holding Ailis behind its barrier. The guards positioned themselves like sentinels, watching Lachlan closely.
“Ailis,” Lachlan called, his voice resonating against the oak. “It is I, Lachlan. I need to know ye are safe and unharmed.”
“Lachlan? Yer presence warms me heart. I am well enough, though bored in this dreary tower.”
He chuckled softly. Only Ailis would complain of boredom while she was kept prisoner. “I regret that I didna think to bring ye something to do. Perhaps I could return with needlepoint or even something for ye to practice throwing.”
“Next time bring me a distraction then,” she called back. “I’m tired of being trapped here with nothing to do but pace back and forth. A knife would be lovely because I could practice me aim through the window here. Do ye think ye could bring a knife?”
He chuckled softly. She truly brought joy to his life, even when she was held prisoner. “I feel that bringing ye a knife would be frowned upon by yer captors. Hold fast, Ailis,” he replied in a tone carrying a promise. “We shall devise a means to return ye to the warmth of yer home and hearth.”
