The Rebel Wears Plaid - Eliza Knight Page 0,77

to be entirely too old-fashioned, and perhaps it was, but it was for their safety, and she was glad now that she’d insisted he not tear it down.

“Go and hide the women,” Jenny said. “If they will take one, it will be me.”

“I’ll not leave ye.”

She glanced up at him then, her expression earnest. “Sometimes one sacrifice is better for the greater good than all of us perishing. A great woman taught me that.”

Toran’s gut soured. Did she mean his mother?

“Go, Fraser. That’s an order.”

Toran ground his teeth and planted his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not leaving ye to sacrifice yourself.”

She shoved against his chest. “Go!”

“Nay.” He grabbed her hands, pulled her close. “I already lost one woman who meant the world to me in this war. I’m not losing another.”

Her face crumpled in grief, and she looked ready to argue with him. He was so bloody ready to press his mouth to hers, to tell her that she belonged with him, that he couldn’t even consider leaving the room.

But they were both distracted once more by the men in the courtyard. The voices had grown louder. Not because there were more of them, but because they were closer.

The courtyard had completely cleared save for Dirk and a handful of Mackintosh men who stood at the head of the dozen mounted dragoons, including Boyd.

“Where are your weapons?” Boyd demanded. “By our right, we’ve come to divest ye of any excess arms.”

Dirk kept his hands at his sides as he spoke. “They’ve been sent to Laird Mackintosh to serve the king. We keep only what is necessary to fend off any outlaws.”

Boyd narrowed his eyes, clearly disbelieving. “Where do the men sleep?”

“In what was once the barracks.” Dirk nodded toward the building.

Boyd dismounted and started marching toward the barracks and stables, likely to investigate their weapon hoard himself. He waved at his men, who dismounted and joined him in the search. They shoved open the doors of various outbuildings. They were going to toss the place. Toran knew the drill. He’d witnessed it plenty of times. They would be entering the castle. They would commandeer anything they wanted. And if they found any guns, they’d line the residents up and either shoot them or take them to the garrison where they would wish they’d been shot.

“Ye need to leave, Jenny. And so do the women upstairs.” His voice was calm, deadly serious.

“What?” She looked at him, confused.

“Boyd is coming into the castle. He’ll find ye. He’ll find everything. ’Tis what he does.”

“How do ye know this?”

“I know it because…I’ve been with him when he’s done this before.”

She backed away from him then, shock and outrage on her face. “Ye brought him here.” She pointed at him, accusing and angry.

“Nay,” he adamantly denied, shaking his head. “I would no’ have done such a thing.”

“I dinna understand.”

“I want to explain it to ye, but I’ve no time right now.”

“’Tis no’ just the women who we harbor here,” Jenny said. “Have ye forgotten about everything we’ve been doing? Collecting?”

Ballocks!

“Where is it all?”

She hesitated, as though she didn’t want to tell him. She no longer trusted him, and that tore at his heart. Finally, she said, “In the tower room.”

“Hidden?”

“Aye. But if they are looking, they will find it.”

“All right, then we need to create a diversion.”

“Such as?”

“Your mother. Most of the Highlands knows she’s been ill. We need to have her more than just sick of heart. Perhaps a case of the measles is in order.”

“And she’s been quarantined in the tower.”

“Aye.”

“I’ll move the women there. Ye find a way to make certain Boyd comes nowhere near us.”

Toran agreed. “’Tis the least I can do.”

“And when he is gone, we will talk.”

“Aye, Jenny. We will.”

He turned and left then, feeling a heaviness in his chest. Mo chreach, but he hoped this would not be the last time he saw her. Their plan had to work.

Toran hurried down the back stairs to the kitchen, where he found the staff huddled in the pantry, hiding. “I need a message to be spread among everyone who works at the keep. ’Tis from your mistress.”

The women perked up, nodding, though fear still filled their faces.

“Lady Mackintosh has been struck with the measles these past five days and is in quarantine in the tower. Make certain all know it. We canna have the dragoons going up there.”

“Aye, sir.”

“But I just saw her this morning…” One of the maids, not very quick to catch on, started

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