about something other than Toran. “It will take us at least four days to get to Glenfinnan with our wagons. And the nineteenth is in two weeks.”
“The men are ready, as are our stores.”
“Good. And we’ve plenty of supplies to present to the guest of honor.”
“Aye.” He stopped walking a moment, touched her arm, stilling her. “Are ye all right?”
Jenny swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I’m fine. Why?”
Dirk cocked his head to the side, and she wished like hell in the dark she could read his thoughts. “Ye forget we’ve known each other since we were both bairns.”
She laughed a little at that. “Ye’re like a brother to me, Dirk. Perhaps the only true brother I’ve got.”
“Ye can tell me whatever is bothering ye.”
“I know.” Her eyes still burned from her tears.
“Did Toran finally tell ye?”
“Finally? Ye mean to say ye’ve known all along?”
“I had suspicions. They were only just confirmed recently. He’s a good man, Cousin. Despite his past, I trust him.”
“And ye said nothing to me?” She was still baffled by this fact, ignoring Dirk’s conclusions completely.
“He asked to tell ye himself. I warned him if he didna do it soon that I would.”
“And what about Simon? Why did ye lie about the reason for putting him in the cell?”
Dirk sighed heavily. “I didna want ye to worry over it. We were in the middle of a raid by dragoons.”
She wanted to be angry, but the ultimatum that Dirk had given Toran had been a fair one. She found her anger deflating, marginally.
“Thank ye for looking out for me.” She decided not to tell him that she hadn’t forgiven Toran yet, that she’d told him to leave Mackintosh lands and then relented, fearing Dirk would make certain he actually did leave before she woke.
“I always do.”
Jenny dragged her thoughts back to the cause, back to their fight to put Prince Charlie on the throne. Planning would distract her from her pain. “With the dragoons watching us, we’ll have to be careful. Taking the entire load at once will be dangerous.”
“I agree.”
“’Haps we should hide some in the tunnels and pack the rest in wool or in the false bottoms of wagons.”
“Aye.”
“That way if we’re stopped on the road, they will not see it.”
“I can have our men start the work on the false bottoms tomorrow.”
She nodded. “There’s been no word from my brother either. Nor his men.” Not even a thank-you. She’d half expected the three traitors to return with rebukes from her brother about the missing materials from his list.
“He’s a selfish bastard,” Dirk said.
“’Tis a shame, for he’s fierce on the battlefield.” They’d both been trained by their father and grandda. Both of them knew how to fight like a rebel, infinitely superior to the dragoons. Hamish, damn him, had taken that skill to the other side.
“Aye, but ye can best him.”
“Do ye think it will come to that?” Jenny dreaded the day she came face-to-face with her brother.
“I canna say for certain, but the both of ye are fighting on opposite sides.”
“The men here have no loyalty to Hamish anymore.” Thank the saints, or she would have been dealing with more than those treacherous three.
“Aye, they’ve seen the way their families were treated by the dragoons, and they feel just as betrayed as the rest at Hamish’s switch in loyalty.”
“My da has to be rolling in his grave, bless his soul.” Jenny crossed herself.
“He has ye to keep his legacy alive and keep the clan safe.”
Jenny nodded, considering that. If she were the one to keep them safe, to keep them thriving, and her brother was now an enemy of their clan, then perhaps it was time she laid claim to his title formally. She was his heir apparent, and she could become Mackintosh laird, ousting Hamish and his traitorous claims on her people and their resources forever.
She chewed her lip, the thought rolling around in her mind like dice on a table.
“I had planned to make a trip tonight,” she said, “but I think it would be safest for us all to remain behind the walls for the next few days.”
“Aye. Do ye want Toran and me to take the rounds of the perimeter? See if the dragoons have truly left the holding?”
She shook her head adamantly. “No’ Toran.”
“Archie?”
“One of our own.”
Dirk stopped walking then, and when she looked at him, she could see his disappointment, perhaps even a bit of censure in his eyes. “Jenny, they are our own.”
“No’ tonight,” she