Page 61 of Claimed Highland Brides

16

THIS MEANS WAR

G ilroy glared at Barclay. “I wilnae sit. What is it ye want?”

Barclay took a step closer to him as Aileen held her breath. “What did ye mean by trying to abduct my sister-in-law from her bed?” His voice was deceptively mild as if he was only a little curious.

Gilroy blanched his face paling. “I didnae do tha’!”

“Oh, aye? Because the guard at th’ keep apprehended some o’ yer men trying to do just tha’.”

Gilroy turned away, his eyes moving shiftily about. “I do assure ye, I have sent no one to attack ye or yers.”

“Hmm, that is quite interesting. Do ye mean to say they did it wi’out yer command?”

Gilroy opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. “This is a waste o’ my time. I’m leaving. If ye wilnae deal wi’ me, then there is no need for me to be here.”

“Will ye no gi’ up the land then?” Barclay raised his voice as Gilroy stomped towards the door.

He stopped short but did not turn. “The land is mine. Go back to Spain,” he growled before resuming his walkout. Barclay exhaled sharply.

“Weel. I suppose we can take tha’ as a declaration of war.” He narrowed his eyes bleakly. Daividh stepped forward. “He attacked our home and tried to hurt our family. If ye’re going to war, ye wilnae go alone.”

“’Tis no’ a war!” Fiona exclaimed impatiently. “Closer to a skirmish.”

Barclay turned to her. “Either way, ’tis a fight. One I would ha’ given anything to avoid.”

“Gilroy MacFarland is a stubborn cuss. He wasnae ever going to just hand ye the land. It would always have come to this.” Aifric’s quiet voice cut through the pensiveness of the room.

Daividh turned to face her. “Do ye have any words of advice for us?”

Aifric blinked once, her lips pursed. “Ye’re already doing it. Ye mun’ remain united if ye mean to beat this enemy.” She looked from both ladies to Barclay. “Yer faithers were dear friends and brothers in arms. When he died, yer faither asked Murdo to watch for his son, for his own family wouldnae. Honor that legacy, for it is the one that matters.”

Barclay met Aileen’s eyes, and though he said nothing, his look was eloquent. “I suppose we should go home and prepare for war,” he stated.

“No, ye mun’ prepare to win, for ye wilnae get another chance if ye lose,” Aifric said.

Barclay nodded determinedly. “I shalnae need another.”

* * *

ùna came running and threw herself into Fiona’s arms as they came to a stop in the courtyard. Fiona held her as close as possible with her pregnant stomach. Aileen stepped forward and plucked their younger sister from the elder and led her gently back towards the keep where the rest waited.

“Are ye alrigh’?” she asked softly, leaning close to ùna’s ear.

ùna nodded slowly. “Aye. Diego saved me.”

Aileen looked up to see that Diego’s cousins flanked her sisters, their faces solemn. Delwyn stepped forward and greeted the laird and his wife before turning to bow to Aileen and nod to Barclay. “Did my message find you well?” he asked.

“Aye.” Daividh said, “We came as fast as we could. Is everyone safe? Were there any casualties?”

Delwyn shook his head. “None.” He turned to Barclay, “Your cousin very ably intercepted two of the men who were attempting to carry ùna away. The other three men were hunted down by Simon’s men. We have them in the dungeons.”

“Good, we shall learn all we can from them before we storm Inchcree.” Daividh nodded approvingly, clapping Delwyn on the shoulder. “Ye did well.”

Delwyn nodded, a small smile adorning his face. “Thank you.” He turned towards the house. “I expect you could use a bath and a meal.”

“Aye, I cannae wait to put my feet up,” Fiona said. The crowd of people at the door parted to let her through before Maisie and Fenella fell in step on either side of her, pulling her hands through theirs so they could support her. ùna had not let go of Aileen’s hand, and they followed behind. Jamesina took up the rear, waddling slowly as she supported her back with her hand.

They headed to the parlor where Fiona could put her feet up, the housekeeper providing her with a tankard of ale to drink as well as a platter of meat. She looked around at her sisters. “Are ye alrigh’? Tell me what happened.”

Everyone began talking at once, all wanting to give their version of events. Fiona had to raise her hand to quiet them down.

Her eyes fell on her youngest sister and softened. “ùna? What is wrong? Tell me what happened.”

ùna immediately began to cry. “I w-was so af-feared.”

Aileen reached for her quickly, gathering her sister into her arms. “Dinnae be fashit. We shalnae let anything happen t’ye,” she soothed.

ùna only cried harder.

Fiona leaned forward, her eyes dark with concern. “Did they hurt ye?”

ùna shook her head vigorously, curls flying about. “No. Diego saved me afore they could. But they pulled my hand, and they wouldnae let me go. I fought hard, though. I really fought.”

“We ken ye did.” Aileen smoothed ùna’s curls tenderly.

“Thank heaven for Diego.” Maisie sighed.

“Aye,” Fiona agreed.

* * *

They stood around the study table, looking over a drawing of Inchcree that had been found among Hamish MacFarland’s scripts. “The main challenge is getting through the gate. ’Tis heavily guarded,” Daividh said.

“Can we scale the walls?” Simon asked.

“No.” Barclay shook his head. “They were made to withstand assault from outside. In any case, they’re too high.”

There was a thoughtful silence.

Delwyn spoke after a while. “What we need is a Trojan horse.” They all turned to look at him.

“What d’ye mean?” Barclay asked.

“If we can sneak a person into the compound, who can then open the gates…”

Daividh nodded and smirked. “Aye, that could work.”

“But who would we send in?” Barclay asked.

Another silence descended upon the room.

“I’ll do it,” a voice said from the corner. They all turned to find Aileen there leaning against the wall. “They wilnae notice a wee lass like me. Nobody ever notices me.”

Considering that they had not realized she was in the room, it was a difficult argument to refute. Still, Barclay did his best. “’Tis too dangerous.”

Aileen stepped forward. “Aye, it would be dangerous if one o’ ye tried it. But me? They wilnae see me.”

“Ye cannae be sure o’ that.”

“Aye, I can. I ken how to disappear. Let me do this for ye.” Her voice rose to a whine as she pleaded.

Barclay shook his head, although he was not refusing. “Fine. But ye shall be in disguise, just in case. Go in as a tradeswoman and dinnae be caught!”

“I wilnae. I promise ye.”

Barclay closed the distance between them and wrapped his hand around her wrist. “Ye better no’ break tha’ promise.”

A pleased smile spread over Aileen’s face as she nodded her agreement.

* * *

“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.