Page 68 of Highlander’s Mercenary Lass

But Andrew was not listening. Already, he had pulled over a clan guard and was urgently talking with him urgently about the matter. "Ye must stop her immediately," he muttered. "Dinnae let her pass!"

"Ye havenae even heard the worse bit." Aileen tugged at Andrew's sleeve. For the first time, Grace noticed his leine ripped open, revealing half his torso.

Andrew's creamy skin peeked out from beneath the lacerated woolen shirt. Grace was filled with an instant longing to run her fingers across his heaving chest and tease him into a frenzy. With iron will, she restrained herself but couldn't stop a little grin playing about her face.

"What's the worst of it?" Andrew asked, worried.

Grace almost wanted to laugh. Not because it was funny, but quite the opposite. Emotions had overwhelmed her, leaving her wrung out. Now she just longed for it to be over.

"Paton's plan was tae marry me, then murder Fiona," said Grace. Her voice was flat and strange. She could not believe the words she was saying.

Andrew's face froze in disbelief.

"What?" he asked, staggered.

Aileen nodded her head. "Aye, Fiona told me," she told him, as Grace agreed.

"He was tae put the blame on me, an' get rid o' both o' us, leaving him a way tae marry Anabelle an' rule the clan," Grace said. Inside, a small part of her wondered what Paton had planned for poor Billie—still in a far-flung corner of the Highlands.

The color drained from Andrew's cheeks. "This is worse than I imagined," he murmured, looking at Grace. "I had thought he was a blaggard, but I never kent anything like this..."

"None o' us did," said Aileen, looking forlorn. And suddenly, Grace felt for her—for them all—very badly. "He was like an uncle tae us," she sobbed. "An' as for Anabelle..."

Fiona turned to look at Grace, her light eyes cast down. "I cannae believe it o' Anabelle," she said simply.

"She wilnae get away wi' this," said Andrew, standing up. "Ye have my word." Then he stopped. "But these letters, I should show them tae the clan elders, tae help them understand..."

He looked keenly at the three of them, but Aileen shook her head. With a shy look, Andrew looked to Fiona, her youthful eyes shining with tears.

"He burned them," she said miserably. "I dinnae ken if we can ever prove it, but I saw. An' I heard."

Andrew looked anxious for a second, but Grace grinned widely. Putting her hand inside her pouch, she brought out a roll of papers, depositing it in Andrew's hand.

Taking it, he unfurled the paper.

Fiona's eyes widened and shined. "But he burned it?" she said unsurely.

Grace shook her head. "He burned what he thought was the evidence. In fact, it was the other letters, the ones ye found wi' the clan seal on the back o' them." Grace smiled at Fiona's amazement. "I swapped them over just in time. I just hope they were nae important!”

"They are nae," she said, in surprise, taking the letters. "So, we still have proof?"

"Aye, we still have proof, dear sister," said Grace, hugging them tightly.

Standing up beside them, Andrew smiled. "Aye, lass, there's enough proof here tae get rid o' Paton, dinnae ye fash." He kissed Grace lightly on the head. Then he sighed. "I will take this tae the elders, an' then they will decide what is tae be done."

The scent of Andrew's kiss tingled all the way through her. A chill ran up from the base of her spine, making Grace shiver—even though the room was hot and not cold.

As Andrew moved across the room, a strange need came over Grace. She simply had to have him, with a compulsion that beat inside of her.

"Grace, wake up. Angus has come back wi' a decision!"

Grace raised her head, her eyes opening blearily.

The woman's face was still in her head. Her ash-blonde hair and light eyes pierced her mind. She looked clever, kind, and somehow, strangely familiar.

Grace did not know her. Not at all. She was sure of it. And yet, somehow, she recognized her.

Her name was hovering above her, almost on her lips, but when she tried to speak her name, she could not.