Page 45 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
“I’m bleedin’ starvin’,” he said.
Struan loaded a plate with roasted meat and cheese, boiled eggs, and still warm bread slathered in butter and honey. Ewan leaned against Struan’s desk, sipping from a glass of wine as he watched him stuff his face. Struan felt like it had been days since he’d had a proper meal and he ate until his stomach felt as if it was bursting at the seams then washed it all down with a cup of warm honey mead.
“Nae much food on the road, eh?” Ewan said.
“Havenae had much food since that bastard Mackintosh took me.”
Ewan shifted on his feet suddenly looking uncomfortable, if not a bit mournful. “Listen, Struan, I’m sorry that?—”
“’Twas nae yer fault. Ye’ve naethin’ tae be sorry about,” Struan cut him off.
Ewan frowned, clearly still upset about Struan’s capture. But it truly was not his fault, and Struan did not blame him for it, it simply had happened in the chaos and confusion of battle.
“What about Finlay?” Ewan asked.
“It would seem that Laird MacPherson is holdin’ him at Cluny House.”
“Bleedin’ hell.”
“Aye. That about sums it up.”
Ewan’s face grew dark and tight and Struan saw a flash of concern enter his eyes. Cluny House was fortified, its soldiers well-armed and well trained. An assault on the laird’s stronghold was a suicide mission. Getting Finlay out would be no small feat and would likely result in a lot of bloodshed. Of all the places he could have been, Murdoch Mackintosh had picked one of the worst.
His frown deepened as he picked at the food. “Kennin’ that, it makes the timin’ of this little note Laird Mackintosh sent along all the more curious, eh?”
“’Tis one way tae put it,” Ewan said tightly.
“All right, let’s see it.”
As Struan set his plate aside, Ewan handed him the letter. He stared at the wax seal bearing Mackintosh’s sigil for a moment before snapping it and opening the missive. He scanned the words written across the page, shaking his head as a frown crossed his lips.
“What is it?” Ewan asked.
“He’s proposin’ a swap.”
“What daes he want?”
“The southern strip of our land that borders his,” Struan said. “He’ll give us Finlay in exchange fer the land.”
“A clean, straight swap, eh?”
“Aye. So, he’s offerin’.”
“Sounds like a good deal. ‘Tis nae like we’re daein’ much with that land.”
“Sounds like a very good deal. Too good tae be true, ‘tis a trap, me thinks.”
They both laughed together for a moment before Struan crumpled up the letter and threw it into the fire. He watched it blacken and curl as it burned.
“What are we goin’ tae dae?” Ewan asked.
“We’re goin’ tae have tae rescue Finlay ourselves.”
“And what about the lass?” Ewan asked. “How’d that all come tae be?”
Struan gave him a quick rundown of their meeting and their adventure on the road back to Achnacarry. When he was finished, Ewan ran a hand through his hair and frowned.
“It daeesnae sounds like Mackintosh or MacPherson ken she’s with me.”
