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7

Adaira, dressed in her male finery, was trembling with nerves. It was just after dark on a Sunday evening, which in late spring meant that it was very late indeed since the last daylight did not fade from the sky until the tenth hour after noon. Adaira knew this since the laird had just acquired a timekeeping device called a clock.

When she had asked for one, he had acquiesced, much to her surprise. It now hung on the wall beside her bed, and she had ascertained that McTavish always summoned her at around the same hour every night, which was between the ninth and tenth hours. Now she knew exactly when she would be free, which was an extremely useful piece of information.

She had just done her marital duty and had washed the laird’s seed from herself, a task she found utterly disgusting, and now she was creeping along to Keira’s room via the secret passage that ran behind the passage wall. The laird knew of it too, of course, but the servants did not, and this made it very convenient for lovers or friends. An old building like the castle was riddled with such hidden corridors.

She emerged from the passage from a door just opposite Keira’s chamber and knocked on the door softly in the rhythm of their prearranged signal. The door opened quickly, and Keira stood aside to admit her.

“Let me look at you,” she said, running her eyes over Adaira from her threadbare cloth cap, patched clothes to her toeless shoes. “Very convincing!” Her voice was admiring. “Now, all you have to do is follow me and keep quiet. Don’t be scared. I have done this a hundred times before, and I will look after you.”

She hugged her friend, whose eyes were wide with fear. “We are sharing my horse, and Moira is waiting at the bottom of the stairs to keep the way clear. One of the stableboys is part of our little band, and he has readied for us.”

She took Adaira’s hand and led her downstairs, where Moira gave them the signal to pass.

“Good luck, milady,” she whispered to Adaira.

Adaira could not speak. When they reached the stables, Diamond, Keira’s grey mare, was already waiting for them. She was a docile, pleasant animal and made no fuss when first Keira, then Adaira, mounted and rode out.

“How did you get the guards to leave us alone?” Adaira asked, puzzled.

They were moving at a walking pace since the darkness was almost complete, and they had to pick their way with care.

“That is my secret.” Keira chuckled and tapped her nose. “Let us just say that one of them is not quite what he seems.”

Presently, the lights of the village began to twinkle through the trees, and in a moment they were outside the tavern. Keira quickly installed Diamond in the stable, and the two women stole downstairs to the cellar, through the secret door, and into the hidden room where the rebels were seated. They looked up, surprised and a little wary when Adaira came in.

Keira grinned at their startled faces. “Gentlemen,” she said theatrically, standing aside to let them have a look at Adaira. “This is my stepmother, Lady Adaira.”

“Very funny, Keira,” Ralph McNab said, laughing heartily. He looked at Adaira. “Who are ye really, hen?”

“I am Lady Adaira McTavish,” Adaira replied with a glance at Keira.

“She really is my stepmother,” Keira confirmed, “although she was born a month before I was.”

There was a moment of astonished silence before Robbie Anderson spoke up. “You poor wee lassie.” His husky voice was full of sympathy. “Married tae that randy old swine. What right has he got tae wed a lovely young lass like yerself?” He stood up and handed them both a goblet of whiskey. “I take it you want the same thing as we do, hen?”

“I would like to run him through with Keira’s sword,” Adaira answered. “Is that what you want too?” She sipped her whiskey and looked around at all the men.

Keira had told everyone in the rebel band to attend that night, so there was a bigger crowd and a louder gale of laughter when Adaira stated her wishes.

“Welcome, lass. I see that we are a’ singin’ fae the same hymn sheet!” Robbie’s voice was warm as he rose from the crate where he had been sitting and moved to the floor to allow her to sit down. “There will be nay ‘milady’ here, though. We are plain an’ simple folk.”

Adaira shook her head, smiling. “I do not wish to be ‘milady’ anyway, so be at ease. My friends call me Addie. I hope you will all become my friends and do the same.”

A great cheer went up, and the food Keira had brought in her saddlebags was distributed. Adaira was bombarded with questions, and just as it seemed that her whole life story was about to be told in great detail, Keira called the meeting to order.

“We can examine Addie’s life story after I tell you what I have to say,” she stated. “Now, I have discovered through my spyhole in my father’s office that there is to be an ambush.”

A collective gasp went up, and at once, Keira had to calm everyone down. “I will tell you what I know,” she began.

* * *

After the meeting had ended, the two women rode slowly back to the castle. Both of them were exhausted, and Adaira, who was merry and giggling, had definitely imbibed one too many whiskies. They dismounted and crept inside, then made their way to their respective chambers, but not before Keira had warned Adaira to keep quiet for her own sake as well as everyone else’s.

“Not a word to anyone except Moira and me,” she ordered, gripping Adaira’s shoulders tightly. “Understand, Addie? Otherwise we will all be in grave danger. My father will not hesitate to do away with us all if he finds out about our plan.”

Adaira looked up into Keira’s blue eyes, now shadowed by her fierce, frowning brows.

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