Page 71 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

"Ah, nay," said Fiona uncertainly. She did not know Anderson well enough to determine if he was serious.

Anderson's face shifted to extreme disappointment. Then, he laughed.

"Dinnae fash! I'm joking wi' ye, sweeting," said Anderson. He still looked at her closely, though. "So, come on, dinnae be shy. Tell me what ye came here for."

Fiona downed the rest of her drink and looked him in the eyes.

"This thing ye've got wi' Fraser Greenock..."

Maybe it wasn't the most elegant way of putting it, but it got Anderson's attention immediately.

"Ye ken?" he asked.

Fiona could see right then that she had him on the back foot.

Good.

"Aye, I ken, sir," she said plainly. Time was too short to dress it up. Taking another wee dram, Fiona plowed on. "Yer wee arrangement wi' Fraser, tae cut both the Duncan clan an' Clyde out o' the treasure," she continued.

Anderson almost stood a pace backward.

Fiona hid a smirk. Certainly, Anderson was powerful, but still being caught out like this was embarrassing for him.

"That's nae quite how I would term it," he said, recovering. Now, he was standing fully, looking at her with uncertainty.

"It's how I would," said Fiona, warming to her theme. "Well, ye think that Fraser Greenock isnae playing ye at yer own game? Well, he is. An' I have proof."

Before she could even give him a chance to dispute, Fiona reached into her pocket. From it, she produced a large ruby.

Not just any ruby. That ruby.

The Duncan clan ruby.

Fiona watched Anderson closely. That had the desired effect. Laird Anderson almost choked on his own spit.

"An' there's more," she promised him, her eyes widening. "So ye see, he's nae tae be trusted."

Fiona stepped forward, gazing at the laird.

"He's rich," she said softly. "More than ye, perhaps?"

Her eyes slanted upward, just enough to bring her meaning to him. His fingers drumming on the wooden quaich, Laird Anderson looked at her unsurely.

"I dinnae think so, lady," he said stiffly, but Fiona noticed he still looked a little uncertain.

"Well, either way, enough," she said. She turned about swiftly, pretending to admire the line of portraits in the Anderson castle hall. "Enough tae make war anytime he pleases. Something which ye might want tae think on. I ken I certainly do..."

She didn't look but allowed her words to sink in. Before he could speak, she continued.

"Enough tae raid the clans, an' weaken an' destroy them. Enough tae do whatever he wants. I would say this is a man ye dinnae want tae be giving all yer gold tae, am I right?"

Now she turned to face him, her green eyes piercing through the gloom. The laird made no reply, but Fiona could see she had him.

"Or, my gold," she added tempestuously. Anderson turned suspiciously. "But I would say we can share it if ye join forces wi' the Duncan clan..."

"I see," said Anderson, stroking his long gray beard. "That's why ye’re here?"

"That is nae just why I am here," she said. "Fraser has Clyde, an' I need yer help tae let him go an' regain the clan. He's the only laird o' Greenock ye should trust."

Anderson appeared to think about it for a moment or two. For several minutes, he stood, as still as a stone, thinking. Just as Fiona wondered whether he would consult a counselor, he lifted his head.

"Alright, miss," he said coolly. "Ye shall have my help. How could I resist such a pretty request?"