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Lyall let go of her hand as he reached the gate. He shoved his shoulder against it, and though the hinges resisted for a moment or two, the gate finally swung open to allow their escape.

He waited until Katie was on the other side before he slammed the gate shut and hastily grabbed for his sister’s belt.

He unbuckled it quickly and lashed it around the bars, tying it tight.

It wouldn’t stop anyone from chasing after them, but it would delay them for a short while…

and though she knew it was silly, Katie lamented the loss of the belt.

She only had two, and that was her best one.

“I dinnae think they’re comin’ after us anymore,” she said, her woolen dress suddenly loose around the waist. Shapeless.

Lyall scoffed. “Aye, ‘cause Laird MacKimmon is such a reasonable man. Of course, he’s comin’ after us. He just wants us to think he’s nae. Ye mark me words, those guards will come chargin’ through the bushes at any moment.”

He took her hand again, pulling her away from the gate and into the shadows of what appeared to be a very dense, very old, very eerie forest. Woods that bordered the northern slope of the castle grounds, where Katie had never dared to tread before, not even for the prized mushrooms that apparently grew there.

What little semblance of a path there had been had dwindled long ago, becoming knotted and vengeful undergrowth, helpfully interspersed here and there by hidden pools of liquid mud.

Breathless and furious, Katie stopped beside a fallen oak and sat down on the damp bark to catch her breath.

“Do ye ken where we’re headed, or are ye just guessin’?” she accused, staring down at her skirts.

They were drenched up to the thigh in muck, torn by all the thorns and briars they had traipsed through. Her shins throbbed with all the scratches she had gained, her arms not much better. She was cold, half-soggy, and miserable, putting her in a less-than-generous mood.

“I’m followin’ the sun westward,” Lyall replied haughtily. “I ken what I’m doin’. Anyway, it’s nae as if we can return to the village. We’re better off in here ‘til nightfall than we are nearer to home.”

“Ye’re lost,” Katie said bluntly. “I’m right, aye?”

Lyall muttered something under his breath.

“Pardon?” she scolded, flicking away an insect that had come to investigate her arm.

“I said, would ye just have some faith in me? I ken where we’re goin’, and I ken that our braither is innocent—of most of what he was accused of, anyway,” Lyall retorted, sagging sullenly against the trunk of an alder tree.

Katie stared at him, her mind a conflict of sympathy and irritation.

“If it were anyone else who did those things, do ye nae think that the Laird would’ve been the first to search for evidence of foul play or deceit?

Johnson was his man-at-arms for years , Lyall.

He trusted our braither. If he doesnae think there’s been a mistake, then we have to accept that we didnae ken Johnson as well as we thought. ”

“I willnae accept that,” Lyall replied stubbornly. “And that’s exactly why I was searchin’ the Laird’s study—to see if he did have any alternative theories.”

“But ye found nothin’,” she pointed out.

Lyall sniffed. “I didnae have time to search the entire place.”

“Ye truly, hand on yer heart, think ye would have found somethin’?” Katie softened her voice, seeing the struggle on her brother’s face—so like Johnson’s.

“I need… the reason for Lucy if nothin’ else,” Lyall said, a few moments later, in a tight voice.

“If Johnson really did become a monster that killed the woman he loved, I want to ken why. I willnae accept that he ‘didnae want anyone else to have her if he couldnae.’ That’s nae who he was.

He wasnae irrational or hotheaded—that’s why he was such a good man-at-arms for so long. ”

A rational man doesnae violate a peace treaty and attempt to kill a lady, Katie wanted to say, but she held her tongue.

In truth, she had also struggled to accept that her brother had murdered the woman he loved out of jealousy or spite, despite his confession.

At least there had been a purpose to attempting to kill the new Lady Marsden—to keep the war going for Lucy, for her memory, for her justice.

“If I’d kenned we’d be hidin’ in the woods, I’d have brought somethin’ for us to eat,” she said, lightening the mood. “But I suppose I can find us some mushrooms, put out a snare, see if we cannae have us a fine enough luncheon.”

Lyall mustered a smile. “I’m glad ye came to find me, or else I’d likely be in the dungeons by now.”

“Och, ye wouldnae. Ye’d have slipped right by the Laird,” Katie assured.

“Is that right?”

That deep, resonant voice severed the blossoming peace, a twig snapping underfoot as the Laird emerged from the trees at a leisurely pace as if it had been no effort at all to catch them.

“I thought ye’d be more of a challenge because ye managed to sneak into me study unhindered. Seems nae. Consider me very disappointed.”