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“Them rumors about plots and such—they ain’t about George,” Bill said. “No one cares about them old grievances against theSassenachsanymore. Leastways not enough to kill a tubby old king.”
“Then who andwhatare the rumors about?” Graeme asked.
“It’s about the Clearances,” Bill said. “It’s about them Scottish lords and ladies and who they’re kickin’ off their lands.” Then he pointed at Sabrina. “It’s about her. She’s the one I reckon’s got the target on her back, not the king.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Almost got it,” Grant muttered as he cut through the ropes around Graeme’s wrists.
Graeme could hardly feel his hands anymore. His legs had also been tightly lashed, and he hoped he didn’t topple over once he was free.
“I’m sorry, lad,” Royal said. “I’m ashamed we so thoroughly let you down.”
“Not your fault, brother. Besides, her ladyship was more than up to the task.”
Sabrina, who hovered right behind Royal, didn’t seem to notice Graeme’s sarcastic tone. “Are you sure you’re all right? That looks like a terribly nasty blow to the head.”
“My head is thankfully very hard.”
“Hardest head in the family,” Royal said.
Graeme ignored him to scowl at Sabrina. “You had no business putting yourself in danger. Have you no brains, woman? You could have been killed.”
When he thought of what could have happened, Graeme was torn between shaking Sabrina until her molars rattled and pulling her into his arms for the rest of eternity.
“I had everything perfectly under control,” she replied. “There is no need to starch up, sir.”
“Starch up? See here, you daft—”
“Got it,” Grant exclaimed, cutting through the last of the hemp.
Though Graeme had tried with everything he had, there had been no way he could free himself. And they’d bound him so tightly he’d had no chance of reaching any of his knives.
What a thoroughly embarrassing disaster.
“Thanks, lad,” he said to his twin. The blood rushed back into his hands, making them tingle and burn. He shook them out.
“You can’t really blame Lady Sabrina, old fellow,” Grant said. “She was simply following instructions.”
“Instructions that could have gotten her killed.”
“Instructions that, if not followed, could have gottenyoukilled,” she pointed out. “Andyoumight try being a wee bit grateful. I am down a considerable sum of moneyandmy garnet earbobs, you know.”
Graeme definitely wanted to shake her, but had the feeling he’d fall down in a heap if he tried. “I will pay you back the money,” he said as Grant steadied him. “But may I point out that toting a small fortune in your reticule is an open invitation to robbery.”
“Which I believe just happened, thanks to you,” she said in a snippy tone.
Emmy thrust a cloudy glass into his hand. “Drink this. It might help.”
Graeme managed to dredge up a smile. By all rights, the young woman should be clobbering him over the head for putting her at risk, not giving him a dram.
“Thank you.” He shot the whisky down.
It was a rough brew, but quickly sent heat to his limbs and helped dull the ache from his throbbing head.
“In all fairness to Sabrina,” Royal said, “we did construct a workable plan. But one can hardly fight one’s way through a gang of children.”
“Especially children with pistols,” Grant added in a gloomy tone.
