She went cold. The bowl. The water. And a lock of Jamie’s hair in the bottom of it.
This was a scrying bowl—a magical tool to see things over distances.
And it was being used to spy on Jamie.
They had never been able to figure out how the pirates always knew where Jamie’s cargo ships would be. Only Jamie and the ship’s captains had ever known the routes they were taking. Yet the pirates had been finding them all the same. As though they’d known exactly what those routes were.
As though somebody had told them.
A sick feeling formed in her stomach, a mix of dread and horrible certainty. Phillip had been pushing for Jamie’s marriage from the start. What better way to convince Jamie to accept than using these attacks to make him believe this alliance with the king was his only choice?
“Dear God,” she whispered.
Phillip MacClelland was a traitor.
She had trusted him—trusted his calm logic and endless patience. But who knew what else he’d been doing? The reports and documents he’d given her had led her nowhere. Deliberate? Had he been working to thwart her investigations all along?
She had to warn Jamie.
Yanking open the study door, she tore through the castle, pelting along corridors and darting around corners until she burst through the door to the great hall. Once inside, she skidded to a halt.
A crowd was gathered inside. Jamie’s advisors and captains, servants, guards, the group of well-dressed strangers she’d seen in the scrying bowl.
Jamie stood by the fireplace, facing the newcomers. Phillip MacClelland stood by his side.
One of the newcomers, a tall man wearing velvets in different shades of blue, stepped forward and bowed to Jamie. “My lord,” he said in a refined Scottish accent. “King James sends his greetings.”
The warning she’d been about to shout died on Elise’s lips. The king’s envoy! What was he doing here? He wasn’t supposed to arrive for days yet.
Jamie looked a little sick but spoke some meaningless words of greeting. He looked like a hare trapped in the hunter’s sights.
The envoy held out a sealed letter. “Yer soon-to-be-betrothed, Lady Margaret sent ye this.”
Reluctance shone in every line of Jamie’s body as he reached out and took the letter. He broke the seal and read it. His expression didn’t change but his jaw tightened.
The envoy leaned closer. “As ye can see, Lady Margaret is well educated and is trained on running a noble household. She will make a fine wife.”
A fine wife.
The words were like hot irons against Elise’s skin. Around her, the hall seemed to blur and she swayed slightly, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.
Jamie didn’t even seem to realize she was there. He was staring down at the letter as though it was an execution order. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to march over there, to yell at Jamie to stop, that this was all a trick, a conspiracy that had been a trap from the beginning.
But she didn’t move. What could she say? What proof did she have beyond a bowl of water and a few books? And how couldshe explain any of this without it sounding like nothing more than jealousy?
With an effort, she took a step back. She needed proof. And she wasn’t going to find that here.
She hurried from the room and made her way outside into the bailey. The early morning chill struck her like a slap in the face and she leaned on her knees, sucking in deep breaths, trying to calm the mad beating of her heart.
The ground beneath her feet suddenly felt like quicksand. She was surrounded by lies and half-truths and couldn’t see a path through the maze.
But she had to find answers. Lir had brought her here to help these people. And Jamie… She could barely think of Jamie without a dagger of pain slicing through her gut. She needed answers. And fast.
The pirates, stories of MacFinnan War Weavers, Phillip MacClelland’s magic—there was something tying all this together and she was done waiting for anyone to explain it to her.
Whirling on her heel, she strode towards the stable. Shewouldfind the answers she needed. No matter what it took.
Chapter Fourteen
