Beloved Imposter (28 page)

The sword had been almost as long as she was tall, and yet she had worked at swinging it and using a shield. She continued until she could best at least a few of the worst Campbell soldiers. Her size helped. She could dart in and out while others were hampered by heavy armor.

She had a dogged determination that amused and endeared her to nearly every soldier. Her desire to help often ended in disaster. Once when she decided the food was too bland, she added huge amounts of mustard. Every man was sneezing and wheezing.

‘Twas not so long after that that his father secured a good cook.

All those thoughts went through his head as he looked down at her and knew that on the morrow she would feel betrayed by him. He wondered, not for the first time, whether he should tell her of the plan, but he was only too aware of her impulsiveness.

So he returned her hug, feeling awkward as he did so. His family did not indulge in gestures of affection. Although she would often throw her arms around him, he never initiated such gestures. Nor had he with Janet.

Then he became aware of the man behind him.

He had discovered what he wanted to know. Felicia had no fear of Rory Maclean, nor any of the Macleans. Though he was loath to leave her here, he had no other solution. She should be safe enough.

“I think my warden has returned,” Jamie said. “I must go.”

She turned and looked at the Maclean. Her heart was in her eyes, and suddenly he realized that…

It could not be.
Not a Campbell and a Maclean
. Neither family would tolerate it. Then there was the curse. No Maclean wife…

No!

He swore then he would return and take Felicia to live with Janet and himself.

Rory had opened the door, not expecting to see Felicia in the Campbell’s arms, nor to hear Jamie Campbell’s softly spoken words, “
I love you
,” and her response, “I trust you.” What had she said before he entered?

Words that he would have liked to hear, and never would. She would learn of what he had planned, putting her love in harm’s way and keeping the secret from her.

She would never forgive him, even when she realized they had done it for her. Particularly then.

He controlled his reaction to the scene in front of him. Felicia made no attempt to step away from the Campbell. Instead, she seemed to move closer, as if for protection.

Trust. Well he neither deserved it nor did he need it. He had his own life to live, and she could be no part of it.

He turned his gaze to the Campbell. “It is time to return,” he said shortly.

Campbell looked back down at Felicia. “Remember what I told you.”

Felicia frowned as if she sensed all was not as it appeared. He’d noticed earlier that she missed little and was uncommonly sensitive to nuances. Now her gaze moved from man to man. Questions were in her eyes.

Campbell saw it as well. He turned to Rory. “My thanks for the visit,” he said.

“I trust it put your mind to ease as to her treatment,” Rory replied.

“As much as it could be, seeing that she is in the hands of Macleans,” Campbell replied.

He turned then and left the room. Rory lingered a moment. “I have ordered supper sent up to you.”

She looked up at him with the solemn blue eyes that always affected him in a ridiculously heady way. He ached to share supper with her, but he knew by now the way she affected him, the odd way his heart shifted whenever he looked into her face.

He also was not certain how she would be greeted as a Campbell, despite his warning to Douglas. He did not want her hurt any more than necessary. And he had few doubts that tonight—the escape of her cousin without her—would be wounding to her.

Yet it was the only way he knew to keep her safe.

“Good eve, my lady. You will let Robina know if you need anything?”

“I can see Alina?”

“Yes.”

As he shut the door behind him, he knew he could not shut out the forlorn expression on her face.

Lachlan sat next to his brother at the head of the table. Though supper was long over, everyone lingered, as they sought comfort in their numbers.

Drink flowed. Gloom turned to boasting. The Campbell’s capture and the possibility of a siege was both heady and sobering. Laughter was louder than usual. War was an adventure, the rightful pastime of warriors, but this time they would be going against a king’s favorite and mayhap the king himself.

The hall was far more crowded than usual. The women from the outlying villages sat quietly, their eyes worried and their voices silent.

In truth, Rory would have liked being anywhere else, but he knew it was important that he give the image of confidence, particularly when all the keep learned of the Campbell’s escape and they would soon learn of Lachlan’s betrayal in the morning.

Had he spun a web that could entrap even the spider?

Lachlan was quiet, no doubt thinking about the evening ahead.

Rory turned to him. “You are sure about this?”

“Aye.”

“You will come to me if you need anything. I will be telling Douglas after you are gone, and swear him to secrecy. Someone other than myself should know.”

Lachlan nodded.

Rory returned to his food but he could not eat. He was gambling with at least three lives, perhaps more.

“Visit the lass,” he said finally. “Take her down to see the filly.”

Lachlan looked surprised at the change of subject. “May I ask why?”

“I suspect she feels very much alone.”

“You could take her,” Lachlan said.

“I believe she would prefer you.”

Lachlan shook his head. “I do not think so, brother, but I will do as you ask.” His expression said he suspected the real reason, that Rory no longer trusted himself with their bonny guest.

“Then report to my chamber.”

Lachlan took a sip of wine and gave Rory a wry grin. “Of course, my lord.”

Felicia nibbled at her meal, long grown cold. She did not really understand why she could not sup with her cousin, or with the Maclean clan in the great hall. Was it because she was a Campbell? Did everyone know her true identity now? She felt like a leper.

She finished, then opened the door. A Maclean stood outside.

“I would like to see Alina,” she said.

The clansman nodded, and she walked to the next chamber. Alina looked up as she entered and struggled to sit. A smile spread across her pale face. “My lady.”

The smile lit Felicia’s gray mood. She sat down and reached for the girl’s hand. “Can I get you anything?”

“Mum was just here with soup.”

Felicia looked at the table next to the bed. A bowl of soup sat there with bread and water. “Can I help you eat it?”

“Ye, my lady?”

“I would very much like to.”

Alina’s shy smile stretched wider. “I was laying here thinking about it, but—”

Felicia picked up the bowl and spoon and brought it to Alina’s lips. The lass swallowed it. Felicia continued until the soup was gone, and Alina had consumed the bread.

“I can tell you are better,” Felicia said.

“Thanks to ye,” Alina said. “Ye have been so kind.”

“I like you. Very much,” Felicia said. “Would you like a story?”

“Aye.”

Felicia searched her memory. “There was once a young maiden who lived with her father in the woods,” she said. “He hunted for food and found fuel for the fire.

“But she was very lonely. There were no children to play with, nor as she grew older, no young man to seek her out. One day, she took a walk and found the most beautiful waterfall she had ever seen, and she started to go there every day.

“She made friends of the forest animals who ventured to the waterfall, including a young fawn and its mother. There were hares, and squirrels who would eat from her fingers. And birds that would fly down and flutter around her. Even a wolf joined them. It seemed there was a truce around the magical waterfall.

“And she learned from them. They showed her how to find the choicest mushrooms and greens and onions. Yet she wondered who would come and share the magical kingdom with her.

“Then her father hurt himself with the axe, and she had to stay and take care of him. There was little food, and she did not know how she could feed them.

“The animals waited for her to come to the waterfall, but after several days without her, the deer decided to find out why. She very cautiously ventured near the small croft, knowing that the girl had warned her many times that her father hunted animals and she must remain hidden during the day.”

Alina’s eyes had brightened as she listened intently. “What happened?”

“Sofia—her name was Sofia—went outside. A tear fell from one of her eyes as she told the deer what had happened. The other animals gathered around, wanting to help, but none knew what to do. They did not care for the hunter, but they had come to love Sofia, who was so kind, and they did not want to see her so sad.

“Then the deer turned and ran away. The hares, though, stayed, knowing they were safe. The birds took perches around the croft. The wolf joined them, ignoring the hares that ran back and forth in distress.

“They were all guarding Sofia …”

Felicia heard the door opening softly, and she saw Lachlan in the doorway. The flickering lights of the candle cast shadows across his face, giving the usually open face a dark, secretive look.

“I thought you might be here,” he said, then cast a look at Alina. “And how’s my favorite lass?” he asked.

Alina’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “I am much better, milord.”

“I am not ‘milord,’” he corrected, “I am Lachlan. And I am very pleased to see you looking so well.”

“I want to have my hair cut like Lady—” she stopped herself, obviously not quite sure what to call her visitor.

“She does look charming,” Lachlan said easily. “But for now I thought she might like to see the foal she named.”

“She was telling me a story,” Alina protested.

Felicia leaned over her. “You need some rest. I will tell you more tomorrow.”

“Will you sing a song first?” Alina pleaded.

Felicia looked at Lachlan. “Mayhap Lachlan would play the lute for us as well.”

“Oh, yes,” Alina said, her face glowing. “Please.”

Lachlan looked as if he were about to refuse, then he ruffled Alina’s long, dark hair and leaned down. “Lady Felicia looks charming, but I truly like your long hair.” He straightened up. “I will be back.”

In minutes he returned with the lute in his hand. He started strumming a tune.

She meant to sing along with him, but something about him stopped her. He had always seemed alone, somehow apart from his clansmen. There was an impenetrable sadness about him, one he tried to hide behind a light-hearted facade.

He looked at her, and for a moment his eyes were bleak, but then they seemed to smile again. “You were going to sing,” he reminded her.

She did, and wondered whether her own confused emotions were evident as well.

Rory forced himself to stay away from the Campbells.

Instead he went to the box in his chamber where he kept the opium. Before he left again for the sea he would give more to Moira, making sure that she understood its power.

He broke away a very small piece. It would go in the wine of the man guarding the Campbell tonight.

He then went to the window and looked out. Night had replaced dusk, and the sky was dotted with stars and framed by a part-moon. No clouds tonight, no mist. Only clear, cold night.

Fires burned in the courtyard; small groups of soldiers huddled together. Women and children were using the great hall to sleep.

The sound of pipes reached him, the plaintive wail matching his mood. The sound usually stirred him. It was as wild and untamed as the Highlands and its soldiers. Now it merely deepened the loneliness.

He was frightened for Lachlan. For his clan. And for Felicia, if his poor plan failed to work.

He wanted to go to Felicia’s room, to push away the uncertainty that plagued him. It was one reason he asked Lachlan to do so.

Could Lachlan carry out the masquerade? Would the Campbell turn on them? Would Morneith be so foolish as to walk into their trap? Was his information true, or had it been a French attempt to sow even more distrust between the Scots and the English?

Beneath him, the fires revealed two figures leaving the tower and moving toward the stable. He recognized his brother’s lanky form and Felicia’s smaller, graceful one. He wished he could see the pleasure in Felicia’s eyes as she watched the foal. It was a gangling animal already showing signs of beauty and breeding.

He found himself moving toward the door, then down the stairs, and toward the stable. Lachlan would be a buffer between them.

He greeted the clansmen he knew, realizing how many he did not know, how long he had been gone. But each looked at him with trust.

God help him keep it The door to the stable was cracked, and he slid inside and walked toward the stall holding the mare and her baby. He stayed back as he heard her talk softly to the foal.

“Bonny lass. All legs and eyes, but you will be such a fine filly. She is, isn’t she, Lachlan? She is quite exceptional.”

“Aye, she is. And do not forget she is yours. Rory gave her to you.”

“But that was before he knew who I was.”

“Rory never breaks promises,” Lachlan said. “It is a fault as much as a virtue.”

“Why?”

“Because life is never black and white, all one way or another. Circumstances change, and what seems so clear one moment may not be so clear another.”

Rory sensed that Lachlan was speaking as much about himself as about Rory. But it was an arrow hitting its mark. He had lived in a self-imposed isolation because he had been helpless to save those he loved. And he had judged others by his own rigid standards.

“He is lonely, is he not?”

“Aye, I believe so.”

A silence then, and he could see in his mind’s eye her fingers stroking the foal. He hurt inside. More than hurt. He felt his soul bleeding. Loneliness was a writhing snake within him. His brother was leaving on what could be a fatal mission. Felicia was forbidden. His older brother was missing.