“Ye go out at night,” Hamish continued. “Then we hear rumors of bad things happening to our neighbors. Ye leave yer men without direction. Ye let them bully the villagers and do nothing to stop it. The villagers have begun whispering that ye’ve no right to ride in here after so many years and begin throwing yer weight around. And I agree.”
“And so ye would hand my lands to my brother?” Evan asked, his voice hard and cold.
“I would hand them to the man who stood by us whilst ye fled!” Hamish snapped. His eyes flicked to Key, Bisset and Gowan. “I would hand them to the man who wouldnae let his thugs swagger around like they own the place!”
Evan became aware of the eyes of MacInnes’ men on him, waiting to see how he would respond. He could not afford mercy. Not here. Not now.
Evan folded the parchment carefully. “Such disloyalty,” he said, “canna go unpunished.”
A flicker of something flared in Hamish’s eyes. Not fear. Something else.
Evan nodded to Key, and the man stepped forward and drove his fist into Hamish’s gut. Hamish doubled over but didn’t cry out. Evan forced himself to remain still even though every instinct in him screamed at him to stop this. He crumpled the parchment in his fist, knuckles turning white. But he did not move.
Key struck again, and Hamish made no move to defend himself. That, more than anything, made Evan’s stomach twist. He forced his expression to stone. Another punch landed. Hamish fell to one knee.
“Enough!” Evan said finally.
Key stepped back, breathing hard. Hamish swayed but did not fall. Blood dripped from his chin to the floor, and one eye was nearly closed. Slowly, he lifted his head and looked at Evan. But it was not betrayal or anger that Evan saw on his old friend’s face.
It was something else entirely. Determination. And an odd, unblinking stare, as though Hamish was trying to tell him something. He’d known Hamish all his life, long enough to know that he could have caused serious damage if he’d fought back against Key.
So why hadn’t he? And why was he looking at Evan now with that intense, knowing expression?
“Take him,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. “Lock him in the store room. I’ll have more questions for him later.”
The men hauled Hamish upright and dragged him out.
Key wiped his knuckles on a cloth then inclined his head slightly—approval, perhaps—before slipping out. To report, no doubt.
Only when he was alone did Evan allow his shoulders to sag. Hatred twisted inside him like a coiled snake. Hatred for Seoras MacInnes. Hatred for Fergus Key. But mostly, hatred for himself.
He closed his eyes, trying to picture Ruby’s face in his mind.
But every time he did, her face was twisted with loathing.
FERGUS KEY STRODE INTOthe hall as though he owned it, boots ringing against the stone, a grin curling his lips. He looked extremely pleased with himself as he flung himself into a chair, took off his cloak, and tossed it across the chair’s back.
Evan watched as he poured himself a drink without asking and took a big swallow, smacking his lips appreciatively.
“I have good news,” he said, raising his glass to Evan. “MacInnes is pleased. He wants to meet ye. And he thinks ye are ready to be brought in on the rest of the plan.”
Evan nodded, keeping his expression neutral even though his heart was racing. At last. This is what he’d been working towards.
Fergus took out a parchment. “New orders. A shipment will be coming here in three days’ time, on the night of the high tide. Men too. We need to be ready to receive it. And ye need to make sure yer villagers willnae interfere. Can ye do that?” He tossed the parchment to Evan.
Evan snatched it out of the air and read it, seeing it was full of the same outlaw shorthand symbols as in the ledger Niall had intercepted. Shipment. High tide. Three days. It was confirmation of what they’d already guessed: that MacInnesplanned to bring his final shipment of weapons here, completing his encirclement of the capital.
“MacInnes doesnae need to worry,” he said. “All will be ready.”
Fergus rose to his feet and clapped Evan on the shoulder. “Excellent! Then we’ll go see MacInnes together to give him the good news. He wants to see ye tomorrow.”
Evan swallowed, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. “Where?”
Fergus grinned. “That would be telling, wouldnae it? Ye’ll find out when we get there. I need to piss. That whisky of yers has gone straight through me.”
Evan watched the man leave. Only when he’d heard his footsteps crunching on the gravel outside, did he move. He left the room, looking left and right to make sure his minders weren’t around, and ghosted down the corridor towards the back of the house. All was quiet as he reached the lower storeroom.
Evan paused only briefly before unlocking it and stepping inside.
