he waited for her to return. By day, she no doubt had to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. Was she married? Did she have children? For she couldn’t be Mistress J all the time. He wasn’t lying when he’d said they all wore many faces.
Toran prayed Mistress J never saw any more than what he was willing to show. Giving his mother’s name, MacGillivray, he’d hoped to see some sort of reaction, recognition, worry—but there had been none. Well, soon enough, he’d be free and able to tell Mistress J exactly what he knew of the crimes she’d committed and how he was going to punish her for them.
“Toran.” Archie’s hoarse voice called from across the croft.
He approached his cousin with caution, the guards at the entrance watching him with suspicion.
“I’m here, Cousin.”
Archie beckoned him to lean down. “What are ye still doing here?” he growled. “Dinna think I’ve forgiven ye for what ye did.”
“Saving ye?”
“Nay. Killing them all.”
The muscle in Toran’s jaw flexed. “Whether or not ye believe me, that was not supposed to happen.”
“What in bloody hell did ye think was going to happen? That they’d all be asked to tea?”
“I expected they’d be imprisoned, and I didna expect ye to be a part of them. That I’d get to question them about…my mother.”
Archie quieted then, the fight going out of his face. “Is that what it was about?”
“Uncle has done nothing to find her murderers.”
Archie shook his head. “Uncle plays both sides, ye know that. But he’s already told us what happened.”
Toran and Archie were both great-nephews of the chief of clan Fraser, who once was the most illustrious spy in Scotland—the Fox. The man had gone back and forth between the highest bidder for decades and right now claimed to be back on the side of the Jacobites, though the English had yet to receive that missive.
Toran didn’t respond, not wanting to confess that he too had played the Jacobites in order to gain information. “I want justice.”
“This is not the place ye’re going to find it.”
“’Tis a start.”
“Have caution, Toran. For they will find out why ye were at the garrison, though not from me, ye have my word on that.”
Toran straightened, a pounding headache starting at the base of his skull. He nodded curtly and turned to one of the guards. “My cousin is in need of whisky.” Then he turned back to Archie. “Drink and sleep. Ye’re going to need your rest.”
It didn’t do yet to tell Archie that after he gained the information he needed, Toran was going to plan their escape.
* * *
“Why are ye sitting here in the dark?” Annie slipped into Jenny’s chamber at Cnàmhan Broch as easily as they’d done as children and sat down beside her on the floor before the hearth.
Jenny avoided the question, mostly because she didn’t want to put voice to her thoughts. “Why are ye not asleep?”
Annie shrugged. “I was working on a new salve. Your turn.” She bumped her shoulder against Jenny’s, which brought a smile to her face.
“Ye always did know when something was on my mind.”
“Aye, what kind of friend would I be if I couldna tell?”
“Not such a nosy one?” Jenny laughed despite the subtle insult, and Annie joined her, comfortable in their friendship.
“Now tell me, else I’ll be forced to guess, and ye know how vivid my imagination is.”
“How is your patient?” Jenny asked.
“Avoiding the topic, I see.” Annie sighed with dramatic flair. “All right, I’ll play along. Archie was awake and eating. The swelling in his face has gone down, and he claims the pain has as well.”
Jenny cleared her throat, pretending to pick at something on her nail, but given it was dark, the move was silly. “And his cousin?”
“His cousin?” Annie asked with nonchalance.
“Toran.”
“Ah, that cousin. I had no idea who ye referred to.” The sarcasm in her dear friend’s tone was not lost on Jenny. “Only minor scratches.”
“I meant his mood?”
“Oh.” Annie cocked her head, studying Jenny in a way that made her want to squirm. “He didna talk much. But he did ask when ye’d be by. How often ye came by. And how long ye’d leave them there.”
Jenny pressed her hands to the floor to steady herself. Why did the man have so many questions? “And what did ye tell him?”
Annie snorted. “That I wasna your keeper.”
Jenny grinned.
“He’s different, aye?” Annie scrutinized Jenny’s face, and she worked to keep her feelings inside. She still hadn’t fully figured out how she felt