Page 31 of Healing the Highland Sinner (Tales of the Maxwell Lasses #7)

CHAPTER 31

L aird Torrin Gunn looked over all the documents Rosalind had spread out on the table before him. She’d brought along all the coded messages, maps of smuggling routes, and every other scrap of information she had that helped reveal the extent of Sinclair’s operations and just how strong of a foothold he and his allies had in the Highlands.

“Me God, ‘tis worse than I ever imagined,” Gunn said quietly.

He and his advisors studied all the documents and maps, quietly conferring among themselves for a moment. Rosalind glanced at Ciar who gave her one of his nods. Ellair stood on the other side of the room, watching the conversation between them, eating from the plate of food in his hands. The look on his face was clear—he’d done his part in making the introduction and laying out the stakes, but now it was up to her to forge the alliance.

Rosalind turned back to Gunn. “He’s been at this fer a long time, Laird Gunn. He’s been layin’ the groundwork for his takeover of the Highlands fer months or longer even.”

“Bleedin’ hell,” Torrin Gunn muttered.

One of Gunn’s men turned to Rosalind, his face pinched and angry. “And ye’re the one who’s most responsible for this,” he growled. “Ye’re the one who?—”

“Enough, Jamison,” Gunn said softly.

“Me Laird,” Jamison said. “We cannae overlook her role in all this. She is the reason our enemies in the Highlands are so bleedin’ well armed?—”

Gunn turned to his man. “And what would ye dae if Sinclair was holdin’ yer son?” he asked. “If Sinclair had a blade tae Kade’s throat and told ye if ye didnae dae as he asked, he’d cut it. I ken ye, Jamison, and I ken how much ye love yer boy. I have nay doubt ye’d dae as he asked. And I’d nae blame ye for daein’ it. Love of kin makes us dae unthinkable things.”

“Me laird, she’s a criminal?—”

“Enough, Jamison,” Gunn said, firmer this time. “’Tis enough. ‘Tis me call tae make and I am sayin’ Sinclair is the enemy we have in common. He’s our biggest threat.”

Jamison sighed and lowered his gaze, his face still pinched, frustrated with his Laird’s stubborn refusal to exact revenge on her for what she’d done. But he drew in a breath and let it out slowly before turning his eyes back to Rosalind.

“And what is his plan?” Jamison asked.

“His plan has been tae weaken ye enough that when the time was right, he’d bring in his English reinforcements and wipe ye and yer allies off the face of the world,” Rosalind said. “With English backin’, he’s fixin’ tae rule all of Scotland by takin’ out the strongest rival lairds. It’ll pave the way for the English tae take over the Lowlands while he holds the Highlands.”

“What is his endgame?” one of Gunn’s advisors asked.

“Tae rule all of Scotland,” Rosalind said.

“Nay. Scotland will nae be good enough fer a man of his ambition,” Gunn said. “Eventually, he’s goin’ tae turn on his masters and try tae take over England itself.”

“’Tis nae fer us tae be worried about,” Rosalind said. “And there will be naethin’ tae worry about if we deal with him once fer all. But we must deal with him now.”

“The only way that can happen is if we set aside any differences we have and stand taegether,” Ellair said from his spot across the room. “It requires us tae forgive those differences, move past them, and learn tae work as one.”

A heavy silence settled over the room as the reality of the situation settled down over them. Rosalind was about to speak, but Laird Gunn beat her to the punch.

“We have common cause,” he said. “And we will work taegether tae remove the threat that Laird Sinclair poses tae all of us and tae all of Scotland.”

“One thing though,” Ellair said. He set his plate down on the table and walked over to them. “Laird Gunn, I need yer word that we will save Rosalind’s braither.”

Gunn exchanged glances with his men and Rosalind tensed up. The muscles in her jaw flexed as she gritted her teeth, but Ciar gave the man a grateful nod. Gunn’s men shook their heads, as if trying to discourage him from making any promises to her—or doing anything for her for that matter. She had to keep herself from reaching across the table and pummeling the both of them. Gunn gave them both a stern look then turned to her.

“All right,” he said. “We’ll save her braither and take down Sinclair. We all win?—”

“Or nobody wins,” Rosalind added.

“Aye. Or nobody wins. Because if we fail in our attempt and Sinclair wins, all of us and all of Scotland will lose,” Gunn said. “Therefore, we’re goin’ tae work with Rosalind and we’re goin’ tae set her braither free.”

Rosalind exchanged a nod with Gunn, gripped by surprise that he was willing to work with her at all, let alone be willing to put himself in harm’s way to save her brother. She had underestimated the kind of man he was, and it turned out that Ellair was right. Laird Gunn was a fair and good man. Not that she was every going to admit that to him.

While some day she might be able to forgive Ellair’s betrayal, she knew she would never forget it, could never forget it. The pain she’d felt when she’d learned of his betrayal had been greater than anything she’d ever felt in her life. Rosalind had felt like she was being torn in half. When she looked at him, she still felt a horrible pressure in her chest, like she couldn’t breathe. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tore her gaze away from his stormy blue eyes and focused on Gunn instead.

“We’ve learned that Sinclair has a compound in the hills northwest of Thurs?—”

Rosalind looked to where Gunn had his finger on the map in front of him. She knew the area well and knew exactly where this compound was. Once upon a time, it had been solid and well-fortified, near impregnable. But over the years, it had fallen to ruin, and she knew many smugglers stored their wares there. She also knew of a system of secret tunnels that ran under the curtain wall and into the compound itself.

That had been long ago though. Now, it was old and abandoned. Not even the smugglers used it anymore. It had never occurred to her that Sinclair might have taken it over and made it his stronghold

Jamison bristled. “Me laird, I’ve got tae once again object tae sharin’ information with?—”

“And I’ve told ye enough already, Jamison,” Gunn said sternly. “Save yer objections and stay yer tongue.”

“Aye, me laird,” Jamison said, abashed. “Beggin’ yer forgiveness.”

“’Tis nae me forgiveness ye need, Jamison. ‘Tis Rosalind’s. Apologize tae her.”

The man cleared his throat and turned to Rosalind, his eyes narrow and a resentful expression on his face. However, he stood up straight and clenched his jaw.

“Beggin’ yer forgiveness, Rosalind,” he said. “I spoke out of turn.”

“’Tis all right,” she said “I ken this arrangement will be difficult on us all. Just ken, we all want the same thing.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“All right, so now that’s sorted,” Gunn said, “we need tae figure out what we’re goin’ tae dae about Laird Sinclair.”

“We need tae write tae the king. Inform him of what’s happenin’,” said Gunn’s other counselor, Ness. “We need tae get his blessin’ before we make any move on Sinclair.”

Jamison nodded. “Aye. It would be better tae have thae king’s blessin’.”

“It will take too much time,” Rosalind argued. “By the time our letter reaches him and he responds, Sinclair may well have taken over all the bleedin’ Highlands.”

“They are right… unfortunately,” Gunn said. “There is a proper way of daein’ things?—”

“Bollocks,” Rosalind said. “We need tae act.”

“Rosalind, ye may well be accustomed tae daein’ what ye want, when ye want, and how ye want, but ‘tis nae the way things are done,” Jamison said. “There’s protocol that must be followed.”

“Bollocks yer bleedin’ protocol,” she roared.

Jamison sighed and turned to Gunn. “Ye see, me laird. ‘Tis why we cannae work with rabble like this woman. She willnae restrain herself.”

Gunn sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She could see that his patience was starting to wear thin. She did not desire to make an enemy of him. Worse, she knew she needed this alliance as much as he did, which was why he had made the concession he had in agreeing to rescue her brother. He was looking to her to make a concession.

“Fine,” she said. “Send yer letter tae the king.”

Gunn turned to her, an expression of surprise on his face. But he nodded. “Good,” he said. “I am glad we’re in agreement. Jamison, begin draftin’ a letter tae the king.”

“Aye, me laird.”

“All right, ‘tis gettin’ late,” Rosalind said. “There’s an inn nae too far from here. I think we’ll go tae find a bed fer the night.”

“We’ll be stayin’ here,” Gunn said. “But we can reconvene on the morrow. Talk and plan more. Get ourselves in alignment.”

She nodded. “Aye. Sounds good. Let’s dae that.”

“Ye cannae be serious?” Ciar asked.

“Ye heard them,” Rosalind replied. “They want tae send letters and wait fer permission from the bleedin’ king. Dae ye ken how long that will take?”

“They have protocols they have tae follow.”

“They can stuff their protocols. The longer I delay, the more likely it is that the next time I see me braither, ‘tis goin’ tae be when I get his head in a basket.”

“’Tis what ye get when ye work with the fancy folk,” Ciar said with a grin.

They sat in the common room of the roadside tavern they had taken rooms in. A fire blazed in the fireplace on the far side of the half-filled common room and the air was filled with the aroma of pipe smoke, stale sweat, and roasted meats. Whispered conversations hung thick around them as they finished their meal and cups of ale.

“If ye’re goin’ tae dae this, then I need tae come with ye,” Ciar said.

She shook her head. “Nay. I need ye tae stay here with the laird and run interference fer me. I need ye tae keep them on track just in case… in case I fail.”

“I dinnae like this,” Ciar said.

“We’ve had tae dae many a thing we didnae like over the years.”

“’Tis true, but those things didnae include ye goin’ intae danger without havin’ somebody watchin’ yer back,” he said. “If nae me, then take Ellair.”

Her bark of laughter was sharp and bitter. “He made his decision and showed me where he stood. He chose his mission over me. I cannae have a man like that at me back.”

“He’s always had yer back, Rosey. He’s kept ye safe.”

“He deceived me.”

“Aye. He did,” Ciar replied. “But ye understand why he did what he did as much as I dae. And ‘twas nae tae hurt ye. Ye ken how he feels fer ye, which means ye ken he’ll always try tae protect ye. Ye can always trust that he’ll dae what’s in yer best interest.”

“Can I?”

“Aye. I think ye can.”

“I’m nae so sure.”

“Dae ye trust me?”

“Of course I dae,” she said.

“I dinnae like what he did any more than ye dae,” Ciar said. “But I trust him tae protect ye. I trust that he’d give his life tae save ye.”

Rosalind sat back in her seat and mulled over his words. If Ciar thought she could put her life in Ellair’s hands, she should trust him at his word. But the sharp ache in her heart told her she couldn’t trust him with anything.

“It will be dark soon,” she said. “I should get ready tae go.”

“Rosalind—”

“Ye’re nae goin’ tae talk me out of this, Ciar. I cannae wait fer those old men tae get a letter from their king. Blaine’s life is hangin’ in the balance.”

“I get it and I’m nae tryin’ tae talk ye out of it, lass. I just want ye tae be smart about it. Damn yer pride and take Ellair with ye.”

Rosalind drained the last of her ale and got to her feet. “I need tae go,” she said. “Make sure tae keep Laird Gunn on task. If all goes well, I’ll be back with Blaine while they’re still waitin’ fer their letter from their precious king.”

Ciar sighed. “I dinnae like this.”

“Ye dinnae have tae.”

“Be safe, Rosalind. Ye’ll dae Blaine nay good if ye get a blade in yer guts.”

She grinned at him. “Ye fill me with such confidence.”

Rosalind left Ciar at the table as she walked upstairs to gather her things. Truthfully, she was nervous about going to Sinclair’s stronghold alone. Scared, rather. But she had to do it. She had to find and rescue her brother, and she was not going to wait around for days, if not weeks, for the king to respond to Gunn’s letter. Not to mention the fact that it was entirely possible the king would not give his blessing for them to do what needed to be done. So, bollocks that and bollocks their protocols.

Slinging her pack over her shoulder, Rosalind walked out of the room and turned to head for the stairs. She needed to get on the road. As she approached Ellair’s door though, her body seemed to stop of its own accord. She turned and stared at it for a long moment, her heart thundering in her chest and her mouth growing dry. She didn’t seem to be in control of her body at all as she raised a trembling hand and hesitated.

And before she could stop herself, she knocked.