Page 175 of Claimed Highland Brides

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“What’s this I hear aboot ye going wi’ yer husband to this fight?” Fiona burst into her chambers, her eyes wide with alarm.

“Dinnae be fashit. They need somebody to sneak in and open the gate, and I said I would.”

“But—” Aileen put a hand to Fiona’s lips to stop her words.

“I’ve made up my mind, Sister. I’m going.”

Fiona inhaled sharply. “Be careful then. Dinnae let them catch ye.”

“Dinnae fash. I’ll be fine.”

Despite her repeated assurances to everyone, Aileen was a little worried about carrying out the plan without getting caught. For her to open the gate, she would have to find a way to distract all of the guards so she could unlock the gate.

She had absolutely no idea how she could do that.

* * *

The next morning, before sunrise, thirty men and Aileen set off on foot. Deciding not to take the road, they cut their way through the forest that separated Inchcree from Braenaird Castle.

They mostly walked silently, Barclay keeping Aileen’s hand in his. He kept turning to her to ask if she was alright, and every time he did, she grew more irritable. “Quit yer fussing!” she hissed. “For the last time, I’m alrigh’!”

“I just want to make sure ye’re fine wi’ still doing this because we can find another way.”

“What way is that?”

Barclay slid her a sidelong glance. “I havenae thought o’ one yet.”

Aileen snorted. “That’s what I thought.”

They arrived at the gates not half an hour later and found that foot traffic was almost non-existent. Barclay turned to Aileen, hoisting a rough cloak around her shoulders and handing her a basket of goods. “This should be enough to get ye through the door.”

She nodded and took the basket. “I’ll be fine. Dinnae fash. Keep watch on the gate.” With that, she hurried off before he could try to dissuade her one more time.

The tall spiked iron gates were filled in with wooden slats so that it was impossible to see inside the compound. They consisted of a small side door cut into the main gate, and it was to it that Aileen headed. She knocked, clearing her throat nervously, and pulled the cloak over her face.

A partition slid open, and an eye looked suspiciously out. “State yer business,” a gruff voice said.

“I’m a traveling tinker. Got some wee bawbees here ye might like.” She made her voice higher than normal in an effort to disguise it even though she was quite sure Inchcree guards would not recognize her.

“We dinnae want anything.”

She whimpered miserably. “Please, sir. I’s so hungry. Are ye sure there isnae anything ye might like?” She lifted her basket, hunched her shoulders, and sniffled.

The guard made a put-upon sound and began to unlock the gate. “Go to the kitchen and see if they’ll gi’ ye some o’ yesterday’s leavings. I cannae guarantee they will. The master doesnae like it.”

She walked quickly into the compound, curtsying awkwardly to the guard. “I thank ‘e kindly.” Her eyes darted about, counting the number of people in the courtyard. To her surprise, there was only the one guard at the gate. Two more were sparring together within sight of the gate but much further away than she would have supposed.

“Kitchen’s that way,” the guard said, startling Aileen, who had forgotten that he was still beside her. She nodded and lurched away, wondering how far she would have to get before she could double back. She looked back at the gate once and saw that the guard was still watching her. Smiling tentatively, she kept walking, her heart pounding with fear.

In her basket, she had some apples, a few bits of lace, and a piece of iron that she could use as a weapon. If she showed up at the kitchen with this basket, they would know she was no tinker. But perhaps she could use her lanky frame to sell the idea that she was hungry.

She walked slowly, trying to think about how she might disappear. The courtyard was cluttered with bric-a-brac, but it gave the overall impression of emptiness—nothing to hide behind or disappear into.

This was going to be harder than she had imagined.