I felt their loss. I understood only too well the devastation the death of a father could introduce; my own father’s passing had been the single most pivotal event in my life—at least of those I had any recollection of.
“’Twas a good death, if there can be such a thing,” Christie said. “An honorable death. Our warriors will fight for the cause, as he fought. To serve the king and to honor our father’s memory.”
I worried at the thought of Wilkie going off to battle. But then, he was a warrior, and that was what they trained, day after day, to do. I knew firsthand that his skills and his strength would serve him well.
And although I had little knowledge of the intricacies of Highlands politics, I admit I found it interesting. I had often listened to Laird Ogilvie, his ranks and his guests as they’d discussed boundaries and skirmishes, and I’d overheard enough to remember his take on the Ossian Lochs situation. “The nephew is now the new Laird Campbell?” I asked.
“Aye,” confirmed Ailie.
I paused momentarily, remembering something: one of many snippets of information I’d regularly overheard as I’d served at the table of Laird Ogilvie. “Ogilvie sides with Campbell,” I said to Ailie and Christie.
The sisters stared at me, alert, understanding the implications of this, as I suddenly did.
“Is that so?” Dark interest burned in Ailie’s eyes. “How do you know this?”
“I heard him say it,” I said. “He plans to assist Campbell with his rebellion. Campbell has visited the Ogilvie keep, several times. I served him myself.”
Ailie was disturbed by this. “Knox is under the impression that Ogilvie sided with the king. As all of our neighboring clans do. Or so we thought.” Ailie’s thoughts were far away for a moment. “So they amass a wider army than Knox thought,” she mumbled, as though speaking to herself. “There may be more clans being approached by them, as well.”
Ailie squeezed my hand. Her eyes were bright, determined. “Roses. We must go and tell Knox of this news.Youmust tell them. They’re meeting with his officers, as we speak, in Knox’s private den. Come, they’ll be most interested in what you’ve shared with us.”
A meeting, with Wilkie’s brothers and fellow officers? Sharing a table with the laird himself, a man whowould like nothing better than to see me banished? And Kade, the stormy-eyed brother whose weaponry was intimidating even to seasoned warriors? The thought sent a bloom of apprehension through me.
Ailie might have read the fear in my expression. She placed her hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to fear our brothers, Roses. They’ll be interested in what you have to say. The news you have provided might very well save lives, Wilkie’s among them. And we’ll be right next to you all the while.”
“Aye, Roses,” urged Christie. “We’ll not let them frighten you.”
Their words calmed me somewhat, but my heart seemed to have taken flight in my chest.
Wilkie’s sisters led me through a maze of hallways, to a small, narrow passageway. To the private den of the laird himself. Ailie knocked on the door and was rewarded with a deep and irritated call to enter.
Laird Mackenzie, Kade, Wilkie and four other men were already seated at a round table, and a fair feast had been laid upon it. My stomach growled at the scents of roasted duck, freshly baked bread and lamb cooked with sage.
The men appeared entirely shocked by our arrival. As soon as we entered the room, they stood in unison. Every single one of them stared at me. They took in my hair and the dress I wore, I couldn’t help noticing, for several long seconds.
Wilkie’s jaw dropped slightly in his shock, but his expression then adjusted, to one of quiet agitation. He glanced in turn at the four high-ranking officers at the table, noticing the direction of their gaze. Then his eyesreturned to me. Was he angry at our intrusion? Or for some other reason?
“Knox,” began Ailie, “You must hear what Roses has told us. She has news of Campbell.”
“Campbell?” thundered Laird Mackenzie. “What news of Campbell?”
“You’ll definitely want to hear this,” said Christie, as though enjoying their suspense.
“In that case, Ailie, Christie, Roses,” said the laird, more politely now but no less forcefully, “join us.”
Wilkie jumped up, walking over to me. He slung his arm around my shoulders, guiding me to a chair next to his, and pulled it out for me. His expression was no more readable than before, but his hands were sure: if I was to be here, among his family and peers, I would be seated next to him. He poured me a goblet of ale, and he began to fill my plate with a selection of delicacies.
After some adjusting of the seating arrangement, Christie sat on my other side, and Ailie next to her. Their goblets were filled by Kade, and they helped themselves to small portions of food.
I sat, feeling small and wildly out of place, but the men seemed mostly at ease, although their eyes were discomfitingly curious.
“What did you wish to speak to us about?” began the laird, somewhat impatiently.
But I couldn’t speak. Their collective gaze was overwhelming me.
Wilkie sensed my extreme unease.
“Take a drink of your ale, Roses,” encouraged Wilkie, handing me my goblet. I had never tried ale before, as Laird Ogilvie’s stores of it were limited, and he preferred to keep the drink for himself and his guests;servants were not offered such things. I took a few long sips, feeling thirsty. It had a bitter honeyed flavor I found pleasing. “Slowly,” Wilkie said, almost smiling. “’Tis a strong brew.”
