The plan was set. With the help of a bribe, Rosston’s men would procure the area’s most recently deceased body, dress it in Kerr-appropriate attire, and stow it under a blanket on a horse. Duncan felt a little guilty for the desecration of the deceased, but on the whole he thought God and the dead man would approve of an act meant to save others from dying. The man’s family might have a different point of view, however.
Abby would draft the communiqué that would make the army think the Kerrs were planning an attack. Duncan and Jock were to equip the man with the other sorts of personal items—money, weapons, notes—that would heighten the verisimilitude when he was found. Where to plant him proved to be the biggest obstacle. Since England planned to attack soon, a quick discovery was critical. And they wanted the body to be found by a soldier, not a civilian, to ensure the information got to Bridgewater as fast as possible.
They finally decided on a tiny sliver of land just along the border known to be patrolled by the English army but little used by others. It was a risk because both countries claimed the land, which was why England patrolled it so heavily. So, the army would not greet trespassers with kindness, especially trespassers from the clan the army was planning to attack.
Duncan, Jock, and Abby climbed the great stairs of Kerr Castle in silence. They were to execute their tasks and meet again in two hours at a prearranged spot in the forest.
“Shall we sit down in my office?” Jock said to Duncan.
“Aye.” He cast a sidelong glance at Abby. He wanted desperately to speak to her alone. “Let me gather some things in my room. I’ll be there straightaway.”
Jock nodded and made his way down the hall.
“We are under watch,” Abby said under her breath. “Talk quietly and keep a respectful distance.”
Talking quietly and keeping a respectful distance was the last thing Duncan wanted to do. But he obeyed.
“You know about Rosston’s sentry, then?”
“Aye,” she said. “Trust is not his greatest strength. But I understand his motivation even if I don’t care for it.”
She looked so beautiful, standing in the streaming sun like some angelic visitation. Her hair was pinned, but a few chestnut wisps had escaped, framing her face. He had promised to buy her freedom for her, but he had no way to do it. And now he had to tell her, even if it meant he was pushing her into Rosston’s arms—that is, if she hadn’t cast her fate with Rosston already.
“I need to speak to you about last night,” he said.
Her eyes flashed, half-cautious, half-amused. “Which part?”
“The part I need to apologize for.”
“Ye ken that still gives you a pretty wide field of choice.”
“It does. I was thinking in particular of my engagement with Rosston.”
She raised a wicked brow. “Now you’re engaged to him too?”
Duncan’s heart dropped to the bottom of his chest. “Did ye accept him, lass? I dinna blame ye, ye ken. If I were ye—”
“You are not me. And I am not a fool.”
His heart stood poised on the precipice between relief and despair. “Then you are not engaged? I thought after last night—”
“That I should accept him? Indeed, you would be right. If I was in my right mind, I would. But I’m afraid I am almost as much out of my senses as my da. I am willing to believe a stranger from God only knows where, who holds my heart in his hands, will save me and my clan.”
She smiled, such a sweet, trusting smile, it hurt him to see it. “Regarding that…” He cleared his throat.
“Aye?”
“I have found out from Undine that…” The words caught in his throat, and he swallowed them whole, knowing they’d destroy the perfect happiness he’d found. “…that the spell is stronger than she knew. It may be a while before I can return.”
Even the tiny clouds of concern that rose in her eyes were too much for him to bear.
“You needn’t worry, though,” he said quickly. “We have Sir Alan returning from Carlisle on Thursday. I promise we will convince him to invest in your canal.”
“Then we best ensure the army doesn’t make a move until then, I guess.” She clutched her skirts, gave him a worried smile, and swept away.