behind the boy.
“Only tae tell ye that James Mòr and some o’ his lairds be a-meeting wi’ the Laird o’ Colquhoun later today. Seems Colquhoun requested the meeting tae—”
“Oh, Lina,” Lizzie exclaimed, “he is going to make James Mòr release us!”
“As tae that, I canna say, m’lady,” Gorry told her sternly. “But I ha’ me doots ye should be settin’ up sich a screech about it.”
“He is right, Liz,” Lina said. “What if Dougal had heard you or should see you looking as if you eagerly expect release?”
“ ’Tis true,” Gorry said, nodding. To Lina, he added, “I tell ye, though, me lady, I never seen that stairway below as busy as it be the noo. See you, it all be a show for yon meeting wi’ Colquhoun. I ha’ me doots that any man could get up or doon now without someone demanding tae ken his business.” Pointedly, he added, “Even were a man used tae visiting ye on any whim what struck ’im.”
Lina knew without question that MacCowan meant Dougal MacPharlain.
She also knew, though, that so many watchers must affect any plan that Ian might have to save them, assuming that Colquhoun had not forbidden him to act.
The principled laird might look dimly on any scheme that Sir Ian suggested to him. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine Ian flying to her rescue. All she could summon up was his handsome face and the mischievous way his eyes danced.
It would be helpful, Ian thought, if he could devise a complete plan—or better yet, put one into successful action—before his father caught sight of him.
He and the other men were following Colquhoun onfoot across the river plain, slogging through mud as the rain pelted down on them.
The high rock and steep road up to the castle gates sheltered them from the worst of the wind. It had come from the northeast earlier but now came from almost due west. When they reached the foot of the road, the wind caught them broadside, and everyone had to fight to retain his cloak and hood. The track was slippery, too, but at last, the gates opened to admit them. The first face Ian saw as the men ahead of him passed through the gateway into the castle yard was Jed Laing’s.
“Gorry be by the door, master,” Jed murmured as Ian passed him.
Other men besides their own milled in the castle yard, so James Mòr or his captain of the guard had set Stewart men and perhaps others, as well, to watch the visitors. More horses were in the yard than he had seen on his previous visit, too.
He had no complaint, though. Thanks to the rain, the more men there were, the easier it would be for him to walk amongst them, especially dressed as he was.
While he scraped mud from his boots on the gravel and stones of the yard, an immediate obstacle presented itself. Three men stood by the door that led into the tower that housed Lina and Lizzie’s room. The service stairway inside it was the only way Ian knew to reach them quickly and get them out.
As he watched, two more men went up the steps and three others emerged.
Recalling that Jed had said that Gorry was by that door, Ian hoped he had a plan to get them inside, one they could discuss without drawing notice.
He certainly could not follow Colquhoun and Rob in at the main entrance.
At that moment, a firm hand gripped his left arm.
Concerns about Dougal MacPharlain had eased, thanks to Gorry’s assurance that the busy stairway would prevent Dougal’s mischief. So Lina had finished her cloak and had begun repairing a tear in one of the shirts.
Lizzie, having put her faith in Sir Ian, hummed a tune as she sewed. When she stopped humming, she said, “I used to think that living at Tùr Meiloach as you do, with Pharlain fain to seize your land, it must be dangerous for you to travel. But you have traveled much more than I have, and farther.”
“I expect we have, aye,” Lina said. “My mam has many kinsmen in many places, and she thought it was her duty to visit them and take us to meet them.”
“I
“Only tae tell ye that James Mòr and some o’ his lairds be a-meeting wi’ the Laird o’ Colquhoun later today. Seems Colquhoun requested the meeting tae—”
“Oh, Lina,” Lizzie exclaimed, “he is going to make James Mòr release us!”
“As tae that, I canna say, m’lady,” Gorry told her sternly. “But I ha’ me doots ye should be settin’ up sich a screech about it.”
“He is right, Liz,” Lina said. “What if Dougal had heard you or should see you looking as if you eagerly expect release?”
“ ’Tis true,” Gorry said, nodding. To Lina, he added, “I tell ye, though, me lady, I never seen that stairway below as busy as it be the noo. See you, it all be a show for yon meeting wi’ Colquhoun. I ha’ me doots that any man could get up or doon now without someone demanding tae ken his business.” Pointedly, he added, “Even were a man used tae visiting ye on any whim what struck ’im.”
Lina knew without question that MacCowan meant Dougal MacPharlain.
She also knew, though, that so many watchers must affect any plan that Ian might have to save them, assuming that Colquhoun had not forbidden him to act.
The principled laird might look dimly on any scheme that Sir Ian suggested to him. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine Ian flying to her rescue. All she could summon up was his handsome face and the mischievous way his eyes danced.
It would be helpful, Ian thought, if he could devise a complete plan—or better yet, put one into successful action—before his father caught sight of him.
He and the other men were following Colquhoun onfoot across the river plain, slogging through mud as the rain pelted down on them.
The high rock and steep road up to the castle gates sheltered them from the worst of the wind. It had come from the northeast earlier but now came from almost due west. When they reached the foot of the road, the wind caught them broadside, and everyone had to fight to retain his cloak and hood. The track was slippery, too, but at last, the gates opened to admit them. The first face Ian saw as the men ahead of him passed through the gateway into the castle yard was Jed Laing’s.
“Gorry be by the door, master,” Jed murmured as Ian passed him.
Other men besides their own milled in the castle yard, so James Mòr or his captain of the guard had set Stewart men and perhaps others, as well, to watch the visitors. More horses were in the yard than he had seen on his previous visit, too.
He had no complaint, though. Thanks to the rain, the more men there were, the easier it would be for him to walk amongst them, especially dressed as he was.
While he scraped mud from his boots on the gravel and stones of the yard, an immediate obstacle presented itself. Three men stood by the door that led into the tower that housed Lina and Lizzie’s room. The service stairway inside it was the only way Ian knew to reach them quickly and get them out.
As he watched, two more men went up the steps and three others emerged.
Recalling that Jed had said that Gorry was by that door, Ian hoped he had a plan to get them inside, one they could discuss without drawing notice.
He certainly could not follow Colquhoun and Rob in at the main entrance.
At that moment, a firm hand gripped his left arm.
Concerns about Dougal MacPharlain had eased, thanks to Gorry’s assurance that the busy stairway would prevent Dougal’s mischief. So Lina had finished her cloak and had begun repairing a tear in one of the shirts.
Lizzie, having put her faith in Sir Ian, hummed a tune as she sewed. When she stopped humming, she said, “I used to think that living at Tùr Meiloach as you do, with Pharlain fain to seize your land, it must be dangerous for you to travel. But you have traveled much more than I have, and farther.”
“I expect we have, aye,” Lina said. “My mam has many kinsmen in many places, and she thought it was her duty to visit them and take us to meet them.”
“I
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