Page 12 of Fire in his Highland Heart

Douglas nodded as he considered each of the possibilities his sister put forth. She raised some good points, of course, but he wished she were not so quick to find the worst in a situation.

“Arguen, I’ve been doin’ some lookin. There is a tunnel in this dungeon that leads up tae the pasture near the stables. Ye cannae take a horse; that would be too suspicious righ’ away, but it’ll put ye closer to the forest edge, and ‘tis easier to sneak ye out through there than tae disguise ye. Yer a hard lass to disguise,” he said with a sympathetic smile.

“I didnae ask fer silver hair,” she said weakly.

Douglas nodded thoughtfully. “Mother’s hair was fair,” he added.

Arguen agreed, and for a few moments, they both involuntarily took a silent moment to remember their mother. “And she wouldnae want ye to rot here. She always said tae use yer gift.”

“My God-given common sense?” she asked dryly.

“Aye, but ye ken what Scripture says. The Lord helps those who help themselves.”

She gave a chuckle at her brother’s expression of faith. “Then let’s hope he feels generous. We’re about tae do a lot of helpin’ ourselves.”

“Aye, but the Lord also knows wickedness. True wickedness, mind ye. Marianne’s as wicked as they come. She’ll get what she’s due.”

“Ye sound confident.”

“Someone has tae. I cannae lose ye too, Arguen.”

“I ken, Douglas. I trust ye.”

“Braw. Now, we ought tae make a plan,” he said, and reached into his coat pocket to unfold the map that Blake had sent.

The two of them discussed the distance, measured the amount of days it would take to traverse the distance on foot, alternate routes, supplies, and what to do if she were attacked, either by a wild animal or a malicious human. On the night of, Douglas would obtain the key to her cell, unlock it, and lead her out of the passage to the stables. As Chief of the laird’s guard, it would be difficult to slip away, but he counted on a relaxed environment for the party. He also knew he risked being thought of as the primary suspect in Arguen’s escape. It was known that the two of them were close, and it would look bad for the Chief of the laird’s guard to have assisted in his sister’s escape. Malcolm had originally wanted to escort her through the tunnel, but Douglas told him it was dangerous. Marianne would naturally suspect her own husband.

“And...Malcolm...does he ken he’s doin’ this fer me?” she asked hesitantly.

“Aye. In fact, he thought o’ the plan.”

Arguen nodded. She knew Malcolm was putting himself in a vulnerable position by helping them. In Marianne’s mind, no one would be above suspicion. It made her all the more dangerous.

“Will ye thank him for me, when ye see him?”

“Ye should save yer thanks until yer free and clear. We cannae let her most royal highness catch any whiff o’ conspiracy.”

Deep down, Arguen knew that such thanks might not be possible. In the map that Douglas had shown her, she’d have to navigate the forest, then cross part of the moors. Even in the summertime, the rain and wind could be unforgiving. Not to mention the constant threat of robbers and thieves. A young woman traveling alone could be an easy target, even one who knew how to fight.

“I’ll bring ye supplies the night ye leave. I dinnae want ye tae gather things here where the guards might see.”

“An’...Blake can be trusted? Ye’re dead sure?”

“Aye. I’d trust him wi’ me life. Which means I trust him wi’ yers.”

She nodded, and squeezed his hand one more time before he left, so as not to rouse suspicion.

Arguen liked certainty. Her whole life, she’d been shunned, teased, even threatened for her looks and her healing abilities. When she found people she could trust, she didn’t like to let go. Loving by halves was simply not in her nature. Leaving familiar Bruckstone Castle behind, along with her brother, Malcolm, and a few others in the serving staff pained her. This journey was for her own safety, yes, but it felt so tenuous. Everything was hinged on hope, and she couldn’t afford for it to fail her now.

Malcolm stole a visit hours later. It was the first time he’d been down to the dungeons since her imprisonment, and Arguen was shocked to see him, knowing that his visit could spell trouble if Marianne or those loyal to her found out.

Guilt wore him like a fine coat. Arguen couldn’t tell whether he felt guilty for visiting her, helping her, or for some other reason Marianne may have laid upon him.

“I cannae believe Douglas an’ I played here as bairns,” he said weakly.

She nodded. “Aye. ‘Tis cold and unwelcoming, even in the summer.”

“I dinnae think these dungeons have had prisoners since before we were children.”