The Chieftain
No one leaves the castle without my permission," Connor reminded everyone before they settled down to their meal.
He had first issued the order the moment Jane set foot in the castle. If word of her grandfather's imminent arrival with three hundred warriors reached the MacLeods, they would attack at once while the odds were still in their favor.
Jane sat next to him, and his appetite steadily dwindled as she prattled on about the latest court fashions. His thoughts grew blacker as he scanned the faces of his men while they ate, wondering which of them had murdered the two guards and left the gate open for Hugh. He had no better idea of who the culprit was now than the night it happened.
He was relieved when Lachlan entered the hall and strode to the head table, interrupting the meal.
"You and Sorely, come with me," Connor said, rising from his chair.
Whatever Lachlan had discovered on his latest excursion around the peninsula, Connor did not want him to speak of it in front of everyone in the hall. And he was glad for the excuse to leave.
As he turned to go, he caught the question in Ilysa's eyes and gave a slight nod. Before he left, he saw her pick up a flask of wine from the table as a pretext for coming into his chamber while he met with the two men. He had become accustomed to having her listen in on his private meetings and sharing her insights with him afterward. Apparently she had decided not to abandon him entirely yet, though she had avoided him all day up until now.
"What news do ye bring?" Connor asked Lachlan once the three of them were settled at the table in his chamber.
Sorely kept glancing over his shoulder, as if he expected the nursemaid's ghost to sneak up behind him and strangle him. Connor withstood the temptation to knock some sense into him.
"The MacLeods have gathered more men at the Snizort River," Lachlan reported. "They're harassing the few MacDonald farmers who still live near the river."
"Our warriors from Sleat and North Uist will be here soon, as well as MacIain's," Connor said. "We cannot let ourselves be drawn into battle before they arrive."
"While we're waiting," Lachlan said, "can we rattle some MacLeod cages a bit to divert them from the farmers?"
"Both of us?" Lachlan asked in a flat voice.
"Aye." Connor did not think either of them was Hugh's man, but it always paid to be cautious. The two disliked each other, and they could not both be spies, so he could count on them to watch each other. "All I want ye to do is create some havoc. Just enough to make the MacLeods cautious about straying too far from their camp."
"Who's in charge?" Lachlan asked.
He was right to ask, for one man had to lead. Sorely was paying close attention now and had a smug expression, anticipating Connor's answer.
"Sorely," Connor said and stood, dismissing them both.
Lachlan was the better man, but Connor was less certain he could trust him. He told himself it was a logical decision and had nothing to do with Lachlan's friendliness with Ilysa.
"Leave before daybreak and return as soon as ye can," he told them.
As the two men left, Connor watched Ilysa meet Lachlan's eyes and some message pass between them. Connor's claim on her was weakening by the hour. He could not bear that she might choose to be with Lachlan - or any man but him. She had said it would be MacNeil, but there was something between her and Lachlan.
"I'm surprised ye picked Sorely," Ilysa said as soon as the door was shut behind them.
"I thought we agreed ye wouldn't question my judgment again," Connor snapped, jealousy making him angry.
"And I thought ye wanted me in the room because ye valued my opinion," Ilysa said, crossing her arms. "I can see I was nothing but a bedmate to ye - and a temporary one at that."
"I'm sorry. The prospect of losing ye is making me behave like an ass." Sadness filled him as he breathed in the familiar scent of lilies in her hair. "You're everything to me."
"Would you be willing," she said in a quiet voice as she pushed him away, "to share me with another lover?"
The thought of her with anyone else made him murderous. If the circumstances were the other way around, he could never leave her - but her husband would be found with Connor's dirk in his chest.
"You're right," he said. "I am asking too much."
She touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers, filling him with longing. But it was only a gesture of farewell.
"We must both try to be happy," she said.
It was not his fate to be happy. It was his fate to save his clan, no matter what it cost him.
* * *
The moon was full.
Ilysa pulled her hood over her head, carefully closed her door without a sound, and slipped down the stairs. Outside the hall, she paused to listen. When she was certain she heard nothing but snoring men, she tiptoed into the hall. The hearth fire cast a dim, eerie light over the slumbering bodies on the floor and benches. Ilysa skirted the edge of the room, staying in the shadows.
Connor would never agree to let her go if he knew, and she did not want an escort. She must do this alone. With a glance over her shoulder to reassure herself that she had awakened no one, she eased the heavy door open just far enough to slide through and closed it softly behind her.
Before she left to marry MacNeil, she would do everything she could to safeguard Connor. Tonight, she was making her second and last trip to the faery hills to cast her protective spells for him.
* * *
Connor looked up to see Sorely in the doorway to his chamber. Judging from the dwindling candlelight on his table, it was near midnight.
"You're not going to like this," Sorely said.
There was nothing Sorely could tell him that would be worse than the news that Ilysa was leaving. But it must be serious for Sorely to brave the ghost. He nodded for Sorely to come in.
"I've found our spy," Sorely said.
"No matter who our traitor is, 'tis better to know." He hoped it wasn't Lachlan. Despite his jealousy, he liked the man, and Lachlan was his best warrior. And odd as it seemed, he felt a connection between them because of the shared brother they had lost. "Who is it?"
Instead of answering, Sorely shuffled his feet and looked distinctly uncomfortable. If he had proof that Lachlan was Hugh's man, Connor would have expected him to be gleeful. Perhaps he had not given Sorely sufficient respect.
"Damn it, tell me," he said, but still Sorely did not answer. Connor had lost all patience with him when he finally spoke.
"Ilysa."