Page 82 of Highland Jewel
“I’ll get it,” Niall managed to whisper before his throatclosed. He turned away and strode toward the stairs. His vision was blurred with unshed tears.
Maisie wanted her wedding ring.
The tears fell. He’d feared something would happen to her. He’d known it. That was why he’d tried to keep her away in Edinburgh. The blackguard knew how to strike at him. He hadn’t killed Cinaed, so they did this. They could see he and Cinaed had become friends. So they went after Maisie.
He was nearly wild by the time he reached their bedchamber. There, he saw a letter propped against the door.
He picked it up and turned it in his hand. A plain wax seal. No insignia. He tore it open.
Lieutenant Campbell,
Though you have forgotten, we have not.
Mrs. Fiona Johnston will be hanged by the neck, and drawn and quartered, at Fort George on the first of September… unless you fulfill your part in our agreement.
CHAPTER33
For two days and two nights, Niall kept watch by his wife’s bedside. She had moments when she would stir restlessly and moan with pain. Other times she would awaken in a frenzy. But every time, at the sight of him holding her hand, the fear would subside, and she’d grow calm, eventually drifting back to sleep.
The stab wound had caused her to lose a massive amount of blood before Isabella had been able to staunch it. And during those first hours, she couldn’t offer Niall any guarantee on Maisie’s survival. But as time passed with no onset of high fever, hope scratched and crawled and edged back into his heart.
With the glimmering of hope, however, a blade of guilt slid between his ribs as pointed and sharp as the one that pierced his beloved’s precious body. Time and time again he cursed himself for failing her, for keeping his fears and his suspicions to himself. If Maisie died, he swore he would kill Burney, Sidmouth, and the king himself.
It was still dark on the third day when Searc camein with the message that it was time. Niall’s plans were ready to be carried out.
Cinaed wanted to come with him.
“No. I need you here.” He motioned to Maisie, sleeping peacefully at the moment. Isabella was sitting by the window, watching them and holding on to Morrigan, who was dozing against her. The two of them had been keeping a constant vigil since the attack. “I’m taking Blair.”
Cinaed nodded, and Niall went out.
As he moved through the dark corridors, his hand found the letter in his pocket. It had come from Sir Rupert, who was now in Inverness or at nearby Fort George.
During one of Maisie’s few moments of consciousness, Niall had asked her what she had seen. And who the attacker was. She only repeated the words “letter” and “boy” and “delivered.” A letter had been delivered, perhaps the same one he had in his pocket right now. But her answer regarding the man who stabbed her was only the shake of her head. She saw no face.
Dalmigavie Castle was a fortress, and the few strangers who appeared at its gates were scrutinized and questioned and watched until they concluded their business there. In the village, however, market day and the regular train of peddlers and itinerant vendors and tradesman presented opportunities for messages to pass. Village lads and boys traveling with outsiders came and went through the gates on errands and making deliveries. It hadn’t been too hard to find the one with a few extra coins in his pocket.
After questioning the dull, frightened lad they’d found sleeping beneath a tinker’s cart, the laird had been confident the boy couldn’t identify the man he’d passed the packet to. The description could have been anyone in thecastle. But the person he’d taken the message from had come from Inverness. That the lad was certain of. His task was to deliver a packet and bring one out. He didn’t think he was doing anything wrong. Twice in the past few days, he’d done it.
Niall found Blair waiting for him by the kirk in the village. They’d decided on a deserted stone cottage at the edge of the forest, away from the castle and near the road leading down into the glen. The two men walked in silence through the sleeping village and the newly harvested barley fields.
Grass was growing tall on the hovel’s turf roof, though part of it was ruined and had fallen in. The door was small and as Niall ducked through it, he saw the place was perfect for their needs. Dark and secluded. He nodded to Blair and pulled the tam low over his face, settling back to wait. The summer dawn would come very soon.
The Highlander stood in the shadows just inside the door. No one coming in would know he was there until they were inside.
“I hope I did right in bringing ye here,” he said in a low voice, “instead of one of my own men.”
“It wasn’t your plan,” Niall reminded him. “It wasn’t your decision.”
“Still, the laird wants us to take the cur alive.”
And Niall wanted to cut the blackguard’s throat. “We’ll see if the plan works and take it as it comes.”
“Not that it matters a whit to me, mind ye, one way or the other.”
It was growing lighter outside. Niall hoped the plan would work.
Another letter had been given to the boy to be delivered. In this one, specific instructions had been providedto leave Dalmigavie this morning, for troops from Fort George and Fort William were going to begin an assault on the castle.
