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“But you are right. I have to go. It may be my best chance to get to Bothwell.”

“Sir Neill cannot know your purpose.”

“Of course not.”

“Ye better think of a good reason to accompany him, and quickly. I overheard ’im talkin’ to one of his men. They’ll be leavin’ as soon as his brother arrives. From the sound of it, he’ll be here any moment.”

Kathryn began to pace the room, frantic for a viable explanation for why this man who did not know her should take her on such a journey.

“He’ll never do it. I’ve no chaperone, no reason why he should—”

Magge cleared her throat. Her expression left no doubt as to what she was thinking.

“Oh no. No, no, no . . . Magge, how could you even suggest it?”

“He’s as fine a man as any. Nay, more so.”

“Are you suggesting I . . .” She could not even say the words. Every part of her rebelled at the idea. “He’ll not take me if I flirt with him.”

“Gah! Flirt? Give yourself to ’im, more like.”

“Magge! I will not.”

She was not a good mentor in many ways. To think this was the woman her father had told her to seek out should anything happen to him. If he were here now, certainly he’d have second thoughts.

Shrugging, unapologetic, Magge walked toward the door. “Then stay. I’ll not argue against keepin’ the best helper ever to grace The Wild Boar. ’Tis you who have lamented these past months, saying how much you long to learn the truth. Well, if yer hopin’ it walks through the doors of the finest establishment, I fear you’ll die as ignorant as ye are now. If you can live with that—”

“There must be another way to convince him. I can tell him . . .”

What? What could she tell him? Not the truth. She knew too little of the man to guess where his loyalties lay—and to lose such a wager would be costly indeed. She could simply ask him to bring her to the council meeting? Nay. He would most certainly demand an explanation.

One she did not have to give.

“Yer the prettiest maid I ever seen, the most well-read too. And yer body . . .” She shrugged again. “I don’t doubt ye can convince him without offering him what every man wants, but time is wasting.”

Kathryn could not believe she was considering this.

Bothwell will be there.

“You forget, I was raised in the English court, lady to Queen Eleanor herself.”

“I never forgot it, my lady. Ne’er for a moment.”

It was the first time Magge had used her title.

She had to go with him. Whatever it took. If she could get him to accept another explanation, she would, but either way, she was leaving here with him.

“I may be ill,” she said. And meant it.

“You might think to wait until after you convince Sir Neill to take you with ’im to do that.”

And then, with no warning, the woman who had, quite literally, saved her life, wrapped her arms around her.

“I’ll miss you, my lady,” she said, using her title again. For some reason, though she’d been addressed as such her whole life, it felt odd coming from the innkeeper. Too formal.

“I will be back.”

“Nay,” she said. “I don’t believe you will.”