“I think if we go in secretly and sneak in, the lad can help us. The door he showed me to escape is hidden and no’ well-guarded as a result. And most of the men had been drinking heavily to celebrate the letter. Though ‘tis been more than a day, I presume they might still be drinking or suffering the ill effects. ‘Tis the type of men they are. The lad, he’s a Cameron, and his family was decimated by the MacIntoshes. I have the sense he’s no’ there of his own free will.” Sawny leaned forward and rested his forearm on the desk. “If we do this, he will be exposed, and I’d like to bring him back here for safety. He can join me at Keppoch House when Adaira and I leave.”
A sudden intake of breath drew Sawny’s attention. It had been Sorcha, forgotten in the corner, realizing her daughter would soon be leaving the place of her birth to join her husband.
“We will return often,” Sawny promised quickly, his gaze drifting to the mother about to lose her only daughter. Och, the plight of motherhood, and he briefly wondered when his mother would arrive so he might see her and relieve her distress.
“Of course,” Seamus answered, and Sawny’s intense gaze returned to the Glenachulish chieftain. “We will go in as a small entourage. My lads, a couple other men, myself, and ye. We can slip in and out and obtain the letter. We will leave at sunset and use the cover of darkness.”
No one said the obvious aloud – all this was if Kelso had not destroyed the letter or given it to Breadalbane yet. Waiting on Sawny to come to Seamus might have been too long. Thus waiting until nightfall was torture, but it was a far better plan than riding up in midday’s light in full view.
“Meanwhile,” Seamus continued, pointing to Sawny, “I shall send for your family this morn, but ye need rest and time to heal. Your body is a map of bruises and scars. Rest and eat this day, regain your health and coloring. Will ye be ready to ride tonight?”
Sawny nodded. While Seamus did not mention Kelso, if this secret attack gave Sawny the chance to kill the MacIntosh bastard, he’d be more than ready.
“Aye,” he answered with a curt nod, before rising and departing the study.
Now he had to inform Adaira that he was going to ride back into the belly of the beast.
Sawny found Adaira pacing in the hall. Her blonde hair was loose and curling around her face. She had dressed in a light elderberry blue gown, with full sleeves, and a MacDonald plaid arasaid pinned so that it draped down her waist and back. The cinched bodice pressed against her full breasts that managed to peek past the ruched collar.
She was stunning. He could gaze upon her all day, a feast for his eyes.
Her eyes, however, were narrow and icy, like frozen dew on the grass at the start of winter.
“What did my father say?” she asked as he approached. Her hands were clenched at her side and her chin jutted high.
Lifting his gaze from her inviting bosom to her worried face, Sawny smiled weakly. He did not have to say anything. Adaira was a smart woman who read Sawny with ease.
“Ye canna go back and reive this letter!” Adaira burst out.
Panic was a dark flower blooming in her chest. She had only just gotten him back from the precipice of death, and he was planning on going with her father and brothers right back to that deathly place.
“Let my father and brothers retrieve this letter! Ye can barely stand on your own feet!”
Her fists clenched hard enough for her nails to bite through her palm. She would not have it.
Her arguments were strong — anyone would see Sawny was not the most hale. It would take a fortnight or more for him to return to his full health. He took both of her hands in his, drawing her close. Her fury was so heated, it radiated off her in waves. He did not blame her, this fury. He had only just returned, now he was preparing to leave her again after vowing not to. Would he not react the same if she had been lost, then found, and was preparing to leave again to the very place that had trapped her?
Sawny would chain her to his bed and bolt the door to keep her by his side, if the situation was reversed.
Nay, he did not blame her for her fury.
“I survived once, having your image in my mind. Ye, and coming home to ye, was all that kept me alive, kept me hopeful that I would find a way to escape and come back to ye. Now this time, I dinna go to Kelso’s keep alone and unarmed. I will have an army of MacDonalds with me. I will slay that man, not for his actions against me, but for keeping ye from my arms all this time. For that alone, I will have my retribution. The letter, ‘tis a bonus.”
Her face crumpled. Her lips quivered and he could see she was doing everything to hold back her tears.
His bright and shining Adaira, brought to this low circumstance by Kelso feckin’ MacIntosh.
Aye, he’d have his vengeance, but ‘twould be for Adaira as much as it was for him.
“A young man may be returning with me, mayhap to foster here or at Keppoch House with us. He is the one who aided in my freedom. Will ye help me make sure he is made comfortable here?”
Adaira’s mossy eyes widened. “For obtaining your freedom? Aye. He will be welcome here. He will be celebrated here.”
The slender smile he gave her did naught to assuage her fears. She pouted, and he put his arms around her. He hated how thin her shoulders felt under his embrace, and at the same time, how frail she felt when he held her.
Their health would return. They were together again, and that was all that mattered.
“I made ye a vow, Adaira. That I would always return to ye. Ours is a love that canna be broken, no’ by Kelso or any Campbell, not by any knife or a thousand swords. I will come back from the MacIntosh keep to ye.”
