“Has he committed murder before?”
She tightened her grip on her glass. “I saw him kill a servant boy in a rage. Beyond that, I can’t say for sure, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Fiona recalled a fractious nephew who was there one day, then never seen again. And a kitchen maid who fell pregnant to Thomas and made a great fuss about expecting him to marry her. She’d disappeared, too.
“I wouldnae either.” Diarmid’s tone was grim. “We’ll do the exchange on my cousin Hamish’s land. Or near it, anyway. Glen Lyon isnae far from Oban. A good distance from both Invertavey and Bancavan.”
“Allan will never agree.”
“He will, if he wants his thousand pounds.”
“He’ll try and squeeze more money out of you. He’s a repulsive human being, but he’s as wily as a weasel. He’ll scheme to get the money, keep Christina, and destroy you. He knows how much I want Christina. He knows as long as he has her, he’s got the winning card.”
“That arrogance will bring him down, Fiona. He’s too used to getting his own way. We can beat him. He’ll make a false step.”
“Not if he puts a bullet in you the second he sees you,” she retorted.
For so long, Christina had been her only reason for living. Now she discovered that the thought of becoming a widow for the second time was utterly unacceptable. “I’ll take it very ill if you get yourself killed, Diarmid Mactavish.”
He looked startled. “Would ye indeed?”
“I would.”
“I wouldnae like it much myself,” he said drily. “Trust me, I willnae face Allan alone.”
“Will you take Fergus?”
“No. He’s got his work cut out with the lawyers. My cousin Hamish looks like a marauding Viking. He’ll make even the doughtiest Grant tremble in his boots. He’s just the laddie to join our fight.”
“You’re lucky to have people you trust to stand beside you.” She watched him steadily. “I never did.”
That ruthless light hadn’t faded from his eyes. “That’s changed, Fiona. I told ye when you agreed to marry me that ye were no longer alone and defenseless. Allan Grant might bluster and bully his way around Bancavan. But you’re away from there and ye now have the Mactavishes, the Mackinnons, and the Douglases on your side. I’d dare the king’s entire army to try and best us. Will ye let me go ahead with this?”
What choice did she have? She owed her daughter not just her love but her protection. So far, she’d been a miserable failure when it came to keeping Christina safe.
She still wondered at the sick terror she felt at the idea of Diarmid coming to grief. He was brave and strong and palpably capable of looking after himself. But on the other hand, he didn’t know Allan like she did. Diarmid was a lion, and the Grants were a pack of hyenas.
But a pack of hyenas could bring down a lion.
“Do I have any say?”
“Certainly ye do. We’re in this together.”
She frowned, unhappy at the idea of him risking his life in a direct confrontation with Allan, but feeling trapped into accepting. “You know I’ll agree.”
“I hope ye will. This seems the simplest way to get Christina.”
After a moment, she nodded. “Then all I can say once more is thank you.”
His jaw set in a stubborn line. “I wish ye wouldnae.”
She could see he was in no mood to hear an argument. Sighing, she slid to her knees and pushed up the sleeves of the extravagant robe Marina had given her. “Pass me the soap and lean forward.”
He cooperated with her request. “So that’s a yes?”
She stared at his long, powerful back. Yes, it was strong. But she feared the obligations she laid upon that impressive back might end up breaking him.
“It is.” With another sigh, she began to wash the smooth white skin. “Although with misgivings.”