Fiona closed her eyes, feeling her stomach churn. As bad as things were, she knew they could get much worse. If she were wrong, if her plan failed, she would be forced to grovel, to beg for her brother’s forgiveness, leaving herself, and Spencer, totally at his mercy. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, brother. But I must follow my conscience, and my faith.”
“So be it.” Harold relented, his manner deliberately ungracious. “Let it not be said that I didn’t warn you of the folly of your actions.”
Fiona refused to reply, instead lowering her eyes and bending her knee in a graceful curtsy. Clearly unimpressed, her brother snorted and turned away.
Fiona sighed, feeling the tension ease out of her shoulders with each step Harold took. Her brother believed she was going to the Abbey of St. Gifford, but that was a ruse. Oh, they would indeed stop at that holy place. Very briefly.
After respects had been paid to the brothers and prayers offered for Henry’s soul, Fiona was going to continue moving north, to their true destination. Once there, she would appeal to the one man she believed could grant her the justice she so desperately sought, could help her secure the future that Spencer deserved.
She was going to cross the border into Scotland and plead her case to the enemy—Henry’s secret ally, the Earl of Kirkland.