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"It's all right, sweeting," Deirdre said. "All is well now. No one is going to hurt you."

The others were talking, but Deirdre heard them with only a small part of her mind. Let them talk. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the child in her arms.

As Maeve's tense form relaxed, Deirdre drew a long breath.

"Ronan," she said quietly. "You must take Maeve to my father right now. Don't argue with me," she ordered as he opened his mouth to answer. "Just do as I say. Go on, saddle your horse!" she added impatiently. "Why are you just standing there?"

"Brodie will have thought of that already," Alistair said. "He'll have men watching the road."

"Then go around them," Deirdre said.

"He'll be expecting that," Alistair said gently.

"I don't care how you do it," Deirdre said with quiet vehemence. "Whatever it takes, get Maeve out of here right now."

"My lady," Jemmy Kirallen put in. "You are upset. Sit down and—"

"Upset?" Deirdre said, her voice cracking. Maeve stirred and Deirdre lowered her voice with an effort. "Aye, I am upset, my lord. As would you be in my place. Maeve cannot go back to Cranston Keep."

"But why?" Jemmy asked.

Deirdre did not answer immediately. She waited until Maeve was quiet, then laid her daughter on the window seat and turned to Jemmy.

"My lord, if I return to Cranston Keep, I go alone. I fear I will—I will not be able to protect my daughter from Brodie's anger."

"Maeve is Brodie's daughter, too," Jemmy said. His voice was very quiet, very reasonable, as though he addressed a madwoman.

"She is," Deirdre agreed, trying to match his tone, though what she wanted was to scream at him, to shake him into awareness. "But he means to punish me for what has happened, and he will not scruple to use Maeve to that end."

Jemmy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable and faintly embarrassed.

"You are distraught," he said. "Rest and we can talk of this again—"

"When?" Deirdre demanded. "When it is too late to get Maeve to safety? No, my lord, we will talk of this now. You do not know Brodie as I do. If I return with him—"

"Which you will not," Alistair put in, but she did not even glance his way. She could not think of Alistair. She dared not imagine what might happen to him on the morrow. If her thoughts once started down that road, there would be no stopping the terror that threatened to consume her. No, she would—she must—keep her mind on Maeve.

"If I return with Brodie," she repeated firmly, "he will be angry. I accept that. And I will be in no position to care for my daughter. Not for some time. Perhaps not ever. You must accept that, my lord, for it is no more than the truth."

"You believe he will—"

"He has beaten me," Deirdre said with desperate calm. "Many times. With no cause at all. Now he believes I have been unfaithful to him. I do not think I exaggerate the danger."

"Then you cannot possibly go back with him!" Alyson cried.

"If I do not, it will mean war. No, my lady, I thank you, I will return to Cranston Keep if—if—" She stopped and swallowed hard. If Alistair was defeated tomorrow. If Alistair was lying dead in Kendrick's Field, she would go back with Brodie. She felt herself begin to shake and gripped the back of the settle hard as she continued. "But I must know that Maeve is safe. Then...well, I will not stay to let him hurt me."

Alistair turned to look at her.

"But, Dee, you can't!" Ronan said. "He'll never give you another chance to get away!"

"Do not fear," she said, and though her words were directed at Ronan, it was to Alistair she spoke. "I will find a way."

"Not that way," Alistair said with instant understanding.

"Yes, that way," she cried. "And if it comes to that, I swear by all that's holy he's going with me!"

"Lady Maxwell!" Jemmy said, shocked. "What are you saying? You could never do such a thing!"