Seducing the Spy by Sandra Madden Page B

might do next. She was a cunning woman.
    She had implanted herself in his mind. He could not seem to banish her.
    Cameron struggled to his feet. His legs wobbled unsteadily; his mouth felt stuffed with wool directly from the sheep’s back.
    Once his legs settled firmly beneath him, and aided by his walking stick, he made for the river just beyond the bailey.
    Thedark indigo river wound its way from a small wooded copse of ancient oaks to feed the pond used as a trough by the herds of Fitzgerald cattle and sheep. No fences restrained the livestock. Their survival depended upon the shepherds staying alert, or at least awake.
    Cameron made his way toward the gates leaning heavily on his walking stick. Another source of his sour mood. His reliance on the hawthorn branch frustrated him. Never in his life had he been dependent upon either an instrument or another human being. He had needed nothing and no one. The walking stick was a sign of weakness that he detested. For a man who took pride in faultless execution both in his personal affairs as well as his military duties, Cameron’s current plight distressed him excessively.
    Marching on - aye, he found it possible to march with a crooked stick - he resolved not to be deterred from his mission any longer by anyone. He paid detailed attention to the activity within the castle walls and to everyone he passed. The washwomen waved to him as they carried bundles from the castle to the small, thatch-roofed wash house. Chickens scurried from his path, clucking and pecking at the dusty ground. It hadn’t rained for several days, an unusual circumstance in Ireland.
    Cameron stopped short at the forge when he caught sight of Barra and his men emerging from the castle. Niall accompanied the rebel warriors. On the pretext of observing the shoeing of an old steed, Cameron kept an eye on the Irish rebels as they headed toward the stable. It appeared that Barra and his band of rowdies were about to take leave of Dochas. But what of Niall?
    What interest had the wealthy farmer in Barra? Had Meggie’s suitor truly laid down his arms? Did his missing eye prevent him from taking part in the rebellion, or did he make the claim for Meggie’s benefit?
    Questions flashed through Cameron’s mind one after the other. Although he had no answers now, he meant to have them by the time he left Dochas.
    When the gate opened to allow Barra and his group to pass beyond the castle walls, Cameron stayed to the shadows and slipped out as well. After the small band rode off, he continued to the river with fresh determination. When he met his contact in Dublin, he vowed to have important information to impart. Cameron meant to make up for this lapse. He would not be diverted again. He would earn the rank of captain before the end of summer.
    When he reached the wooded copse, Cameron achieved a degree of privacy. The thick, leafy branches of the oak trees blocked him from view. After swiftly shedding his garments, he jumped into the river. Icy water rolled over him as he plunged downward. A series of hard chills bolted through him, shaking his body from ears to ankles.
    He emerged from the frigid river on a bellow. “Aaargh!”
    A scream from beyond the bend echoed his involuntary roar.
    “Yeoooow!”
    A woman nearby in trouble?
    Cameron swam toward where the scream had come from.
    Meggie Fitzgerald instantly regretted her reaction. She did not often shriek from fright. The last time was several months ago when a rat the size of a goat had run over her toes in the forge. But the bloodcurdling yell from so close by had startled her. Immobilized in the bone-chilling water, she wasn’t even aware she had stopped treading water until she swallowed a mouthful on the way under.
    Spewing frigid river water, Meggie flailed about until she was once again afloat. She listened. Nothing. Although uncertain whether the sound of outrage came from man or beast, she suspected man. But friend or foe? Clothed in nothing but