Page 101 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

Edmund's pulse quickened. "Where?"

"North. Checking the border patrols, from what we can tell."

"How many men with him?"

"Twenty. Maybe thirty."

Edmund's mind raced. MacDonald out of the castle. Away from Elinor. With a significant portion of his fighting men.

It was too perfect. Almost suspicious.

"It could be a trap," William said, as though reading his thoughts. "He might be trying to draw us out."

"Possibly." Edmund moved back to his desk, studying the map again. "Or he might simply be desperate to maintain control. To show his men he's not afraid."

"What do you want to do?"

Edmund's finger traced the road north from Keppoch. Then back to the castle itself. To the small mark he'd made on the east wall, where the stones were older and the mortar crumbling.

Where his men inside had reported a weakness they could exploit.

"We attack," he said finally. "Very soon."

William's eyebrows rose. "But my lord, we're not ready yet."

"We attack soon." Edmund's voice was steel. "Full assault on the main gate. Make it loud. Make it dramatic. Draw every guard and fighting man to the walls."

"And then?"

"And then the men inside move." Edmund smiled. "While MacDonald's forces are focused on repelling our attack, our people inside will grab Elinor and bring her out through the east wall. We'll have horses waiting. By the time anyone realizes she's gone, we'll be miles away."

William was quiet for a moment, processing. "It's risky."

"Life is risky."

"If MacDonald returns before we get her, it’ll be bloody."

"He won't. Not if we time it right." Edmund straightened. "We attack two hours after sunset. That gives MacDonald time to reach the border patrols and settle in for the night. By the time word reaches him that we're at his gates, Elinor will be safely in my custody."

"And if something goes wrong? If the men inside are discovered?"

"They won't be." Edmund's confidence was absolute. "They've been in place for weeks. Blending in. Waiting. MacDonald's so focused on external threats, he's forgotten to watch his own people."

"Arrogant of him."

"Predictable of him." Edmund moved to the chest in the corner of his tent, opening it to reveal fine clothes—a gown of deep blue silk, jewelry, everything a lady would need. "I had these prepared for her. For when she comes back to me."

William eyed the clothes with something like unease. "My lord, what if she—what if Lady Elinor doesn't want to come? She's married now. To MacDonald. What if she proves stubborn?"

"She's not married." Edmund's voice was flat. "Not really. That farce of a wedding means nothing. She was coerced. Forced. Stolen from me by a man who had no right to her."

"But legally⁠—"

"Legally, she's mine." Edmund slammed the chest shut. "I made my intentions clear years ago. Offered for her properly. She would have been my wife if Royse hadn't been such a greedy bastard. This—this mockery of a marriage—is just an obstacle. One I intend to remove."

William looked like he wanted to argue. But he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

Good. Edmund didn't pay him to question. He paid him to obey.