Page 116 of Highland Spy

Delilah’s cheeks were red and her face shining where she’d obviously scrubbed her skin clean prior to their arrival, but she hardly appeared refreshed. “They weren’t loose with their information, so we stayed at the inn near them long enough to get their trust. This has been a plot going back over two years now. Something having to do with Englishmen on Scottish soil.”

Sylvi shook her head. “No, it’s about religion. King James would happily kill all the Catholics, but knows he can’t. They, however, feel they can kill him for his beliefs regardless. An Englishman, Thomas Percy, approached the king in Scotland to convince him to change his philosophy on the persecution of Catholics, but the king refused. Some Scots slipped words in his ear and incited his rage.”

The irritation squeezing at Connor’s chest knotted further. “How does this have to do with a plot against the king?”

Delilah waved her hand dismissively. “These Englishmen are angry and want to blow up the king. During the State Opening of Parliament.”

Which would not just kill the king, but also the queen, the entire House of Lords, and any other men or women standing nearby.

Though ruthless, Connor had to admit it was brilliant. Not only would the entire country fall into a state of fear and turmoil, but James’s young daughter would sit on the throne with Catholic influence.

While it did not separate Scotland from England, it did reduce the religious strife in the Highlands, and a young girl would be more easily influenced than her father.

“Do ye have names?” Connor asked.

Sylvi shook her head. “Not all of them. Just a few.” She handed a folded parchment to Connor. “These are the ones I have thus far. I’m in the process of securing more. The Englishmen are trying to enlist Scottish financial support for all the gunpowder.”

Connor unfolded the list and saw several English names. While he did not recognize them, he was sure the king would.

“We’ll be going back out,” Sylvi added. “We needed to come back for supplies. And someone needed clean clothes.” She shot Delilah a hard look.

Delilah folded her arms over her chest and returned a defiant stare of her own.

“It’s good ye came back.” Connor nodded. “This is valuable information ye already have, but ye have to have a care for yerselves as well. Get some good rest, take all the supplies ye need, and ensure ye have enough coin to see ye through yer mission.”

The women nodded in unison and rose from their seats. Connor walked to the door with them, intending to leave, when he was met by Percy. An anxious line creased her brow and blood creased the front of a white apron she wore over her simple pink dress.

A spike of alarm jabbed up through Connor.

“It’s Murdoch,” she said. “He’s been stabbed.”

Connor followed her quickly down the hall toward the small room where Murdoch stayed. “Where? When? How did this happen?” he demanded.

“In the stomach. He’s fortunate to even be alive. He said it was at a tavern near Inverness.” She pushed open the narrow wooden door to reveal Murdoch’s large form laid out on the bed. The clean scent of steeped herbs scented the air with a medicinal smell.

Connor approached the bed. “Sleeping off drink is easily done, but ye canna sleep off a stab wound.” The jest came out hollow.

Murdoch’s light hair looked dark against the paleness of his skin. “Ach, ye know it’ll take more than a little stab wound to drop me.” His words came out slightly slurred.

“I’ve given him some valerian root for the pain,” Percy said softly.

“Why dinna he tell ye he’d been stabbed?” Connor asked.

Murdoch waved a hand in the air. “It wasna deep. I thought it’d be fine. I used to do this when I was younger.”

Connor shook his head. “Ye’re no’ so young anymore, my friend.” And it was true. Murdoch was several years older than Connor, but he seemed to have aged over a decade in the last three years.

Murdoch looked up at Connor with a glassy stare. “Gordon was at his castle, at Glenbuchat, only recently returned from Loch Manor, or so his staff said.”

Connor’s mouth pulled into a grimace. Murdoch, ever the true and good friend, had brought back the necessary information even as he lay in a fog of valerian root and pain.

“Ye’re a good man.” Connor gently squeezed his friend’s arm. “But dinna be a stubborn one. Get some rest, aye? We’ve enough information for now.”

Murdoch nodded and his eyes slid closed.

Connor glanced at Percy, silently seeking confirmation the large man would be fine. She met his gaze and nodded.

Together they left the room, but Connor did not speak until the door had sealed closed behind them. “I’m going to need some supplies for a few days, as will Sylvi and Delilah.”