“Since I am obviously a mooncalf in this situation, why do ye nae enlighten me as to how devious the lass is?”
Simon ignored his sarcasm. “Things do nae add up, brother. A bonnie lass just shows up and attaches herself to ye at Hogmanay. Then she swoons. Her ‘friends’ are nae to be seen. So ye bring her home—”
“What was I supposed to do? Leave her lying on the street?”
“Even today, ye could find nae clue that the ‘friends’ exist,” Simon continued as though Niall hadn’t interrupted, “and we couldna find hide nor hair of Campbells lurking about—”
“Which should prove to ye she is nae a spy,” Niall said.
“On the contrary.” This time, his father spoke. “She could be providing information to the colonel at the fort or in alliance with the Grants. One of them could be hiding in full sight in Inverness.”
“What would be the logic in that if she is nae willing tomarrya Grant?” Niall asked.
His father looked at him as though he’d gone daft. “What if the lass lies? What if, instead of running away from Colin Grant, he is really the person she reports to?”
“Urquhart is a half-day’s ride from here, their clan seat less than twenty miles. If there is a Grant waiting close by, she could easily send a message to them about our plans for the Cause,” Simon added.
“She has nae asked a single question.”
“So far, she has nae had to,” Simon said. “We haven’t mentioned where the prince is staying—so she has nae a thing to report. Yet.”
“Yet?” As much as he didn’t want to think such a thing was possible, Niall had to admit that everything his brother—and even his father—had laid out was a possibility. Wars had been lost, kingdoms had toppled, because men had been duped by women. He didn’t like considering that his feelings for Charlotte would get in the way of his rational thinking, but the attraction was strong.
“Yet,” Simon replied. “I ken ye want to protect the lass and—if she speaks true that she is running away from a Grant—I will support her as well.”
Niall gave him a wary look. “And how do ye intend to prove she is telling the truth?”
“By feeding her lies.” His father grinned.
“Which ye are an expert at.” The words came out without thought, but Niall wasn’t about to take them back.
His father didn’t seem offended. “Mayhap it takes a liar to find a liar? I say we give the lass somemisinformation—since ye doona like the other term—and see what she does with it.”
“Aye.” Simon nodded. “We ken that Murray split the army into two, one to distract while the other advanced to Stirling. We can tell her about the split but give alternative destinations.” He grinned too. “That will benefit us twice over.”
Niall narrowed his eyes. “What do ye plan to do?”
His brother’s grin widened. “Play cat-and-mouse. We give her the information, then we announce a trip to Inverness where we men have to meet someone so she will be free do some shopping—”
“No woman can resist that,” his father chortled.
Simon shook his head. “Beside the point, Da. It will give the lass an opportunity to relay her message. We will have her followed, of course. If she meets someone, we will ken she is a spy.”
“I doona like it.” Niall sighed. “But if it will keep ye from hammering on about it, I will nae stand in the way—”
“Good.”
“—but ye said this would serve twice over. What do ye mean by that? I’ll nae have Charlotte hurt, nae matter what the outcome.”
“I wasn’t speaking of hurting her,” Simon glared at him. “I am nae a monster.”
Niall glared back. “Then what did ye mean?”
“’Tis obvious, brother.” His expression changed, and now he looked amused. “If the lass is a spy and gives out the wrong information, the government armies will be marching the wrong way. Murray will be able to declare victory without losing a single man because he won’t be where the English think he is.”
“Brilliant!” his father said.
Niall wasn’t so sure, but at this point there was no use arguing.
