"Blether, blether, blether," Sheena said sharply. "Are ye coming or no’, mistress? We cannae stand around, wittering like old hens. We need to be over the hills before the castle stirs to life."
Mhairi stood up with a show of purpose, even as more and more misgivings gathered to make an acrid stew in her stomach. Which was insane. Why on earth wouldn’t she want to go? The Mackinnon had abducted her, kept her prisoner, humiliated her.
Spoken the words which proclaimed her the woman of his choice and the Lady of Achnasheen.
The devil with him. She wouldn't think about that. Not now when this was her only chance to get away. She'd go back to her father, prevent the Drummonds marching on this glen, make it clear she'd never marry her cousin.
Perhaps in time, if the Mackinnon offered for her again…
No, she couldn't think about that either. She turned to Sheena. "How did ye get up here? Is there no’ a guard?"
"Aye, but Sel the Red's always had an eye for me. It was nae trouble getting him to let me past. And he's never liked the idea of a Drummond in a place of honor at Achnasheen."
Mhairi tried not to think about what favors Sheena had shared with the man in order to coax him into betraying his laird. She vaguely remembered Sel the Red from the night the Mackinnon had hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her off like a prize of war.
That brazen act alone should make her want to leave Achnasheen. But while her regret at leaving was stupid enough, stupidest of all was her guilt at playing Black Callum false. When she owed him nothing at all.
Dear Lord, she was in a muddle. John was right. It was time she returned to Bruard and reminded herself of exactly who she was.
"So are ye coming? Or has a Mackinnon crushed all the Drummond pride out of ye?" Sheena jeered.
"Mhairi, dinnae do this," Flossie said desperately, scrambling to her feet.
Mhairi squared her shoulders. She must go. If only to prove to herself that she was still the woman she'd been all her life. "Aye, I'll go."
"Good." Sheena visibly relaxed, although she didn't smile. "Here. I brought ye some clothes and some boots. We’ve got miles to cover before we reach Drummond lands, and I need to be back in time to help with the baking. Nobody can ken I helped ye escape."
"You're no’ coming all the way with me?" Mhairi tugged the rough linen blouse over her head and straightened it over her shift.
"And do what? Make my home in the stinking Drummond keep? I’d rather die. I'll put ye on the road home and come back here. Once I’ve got ye safely off Mackinnon land, you're on your own."
"Dinnae trust her, Mhairi," Flossie said, wringing her hands in distress as Mhairi fastened the threadbare plaid skirt with fumbling fingers.
"I have to, Flossie," she said gently, sitting on the bed to pull on prickly woolen stockings and worn leather boots.
Although of course she didn’t trust Sheena. But she had to get out of this castle. And quickly. Tonight had shown her that she was too close to betraying her kin. The air at Achnasheen was turning her mad. There had been moments when the thought of choosing Black Callum not only as her dance partner but as her partner for life had filled her heart with joy. When all her life she’d loathed the mere name Mackinnon.
"Ye heard John. My father plans on sending an army to fetch me."
"There’s no need to fear. Your father willnae put ye at risk. You're safe here."
She was more worried about the folk she’d come to know at Achnasheen than she was about saving her own skin. Acerbic but good-hearted Jean. Duff. The people who had smiled at her tonight, despite her being a despised Drummond. Black Callum himself, much as she resented admitting it.
Anyway, Flossie was wrong. Mhairi was anything but safe at Achnasheen.
She'd arrived at the castle, hating her captor. Now she feared what she might become if she stayed. Last night she’d danced with Black Callum and her traitorous heart had longed for him to sweep her up to this tower room and kiss her until she forgot everything but the pleasure she found in his arms.
"I must go, Flossie." She hoped her voice didn't sound as artificial to her maid as it did to her. She took a dreadful risk going with Sheena, but what choice did she have? Staying here made her doubt everything she’d ever believed to be true about herself. "Ye ken I must."
Flossie folded her arms and looked stubborn. "I dinnae ken that at all, but I also ken it's a waste of time trying to argue ye out of a rash decision when you've set your course. Ye were always too headstrong for your own good."
Mhairi sighed. "Flossie, let's no’ part in rancor. Heaven knows when we'll see each other again. Wish me well and say goodbye."
She stood up. Her hair was plaited for bed. It would do for the wild race across the hills. There was no time to pin it up. Sheena was getting restless.
"Can ye no’ hurry up?" she urged, confirming that impression.
Flossie kept her gaze on Mhairi. "God go with ye, my lady, and keep ye safe."