Adaira nodded. “You cannot imagine,” she said sadly. Then she perked herself up. “Would you like some mulled wine? My maid has just fetched some.”
“Always!” Keira laughed.
She watched Adaira as she fetched it, noting her long, elegant hands and the perfect lines of her face, which looked like the statue of a Madonna. Her figure, too, was womanly, curved in all the right places and in perfect proportions. It made Keira furious to think that such a kind and lovely person should be wasted on a tyrant like her father.
“Thank you,” Keira said as Adaira handed her the goblet of wine, then sat down opposite her.
“I take it you have come to discuss what we talked about a few days ago?” Adaira asked hopefully. She leaned forward toward Adaira, her dark eyes wide and pleading. “Please, Keira, tell me you have formed a plan to help me escape from this place!”
“I need you to promise me something.” Keira’s voice was firm and insistent.
“Anything!” Adaira was desperate. “Anything at all.” Her hands were clasped so tightly together that her knuckles showed white beneath her skin.
“I need you to promise that whatever I say to you will not leave this room.” Keira took Adaira’s hands and squeezed them gently. “Not a word to anyone. I must have your word.”
“You have it,” Adaira replied. “I know you are a woman of honor, and I trust you.”
Her tone was sincere, and Keira had no doubt that she was telling the truth.
“Thank you,” Keira said, smiling. “First of all, Adaira, I must tell you that I am not what I seem to be. I am not merely the wealthy daughter of a laird, to be married to the first man my father thinks is fit for me. I am the leader of a band of rebels who are determined to unseat my father.”
Adaira looked shocked at first, and then she laughed. “That is incredible!” she cried. “So you are working against my husband. Who else is with you?”
“One thing at a time, Addie.” Keira took a sip of her wine and paused for a moment, calling back the memory of the awful events of the last time she had seen her mother. “I have to tell you a story first, but I think I will need more wine.”
Once the wine was in her hands, Keira began to tell the story of the horrific night her mother had died. When she had finished, there were tears streaming down her face and dripping into her wine. Relating the events to Adaira had brought back the whole jumble of emotions that had beset her that night. She had felt fear that her father would kill her too, and fear for her mother’s safety. There was horror at Malcolm’s untimely and unnecessary death, but above all, hatred for her father and a bitter anger that had lasted until the present day and still persisted.
Adaira moved to sit beside Keira and put her arm around her shoulders, then she held her close while rocking her like a baby. To Keira, the warmth and closeness of another human being was the balm she needed to soothe her loneliness and hurt. As her sobbing slowly abated, she was almost reluctant to leave Adaira’s embrace.
However, she drew away at last, wiped away her tears, and sighed, then tried to smile. “Do you feel better now?” Adaira asked gently.
Keira nodded. “Thank you, Addie. I am sorry for being such a baby.”
“You were not being a baby,” Adaira assured her. “I don’t know how you stayed sane all these years. I have always admired you, Keira, but I admire you even more now thinking of the burden you have had to carry. I hate your father even more now, and I will do whatever it takes to get out of this place and away from him.
“Now, I will have our supper sent up here, and we can talk further and make some plans. I cannot wait to get started!” Adaira was almost bursting with excitement.
Keira was amazed to see the unashamed malice in Adaira’s eyes. She hated him just as much as Keira did, and while the rebels did what they knew had to be done, and no more, it looked as though Adaira was going to enjoy it very much.
“First things first then,” Keira announced. “You must find yourself a suit of boy clothes.”
“Boy clothes?” Adaira was mystified. “Why?”
“Because we cannot go out dressed like the ladies we are,” Keira answered. “We are obviously not farmers’ wives or field hands. We have to be something completely different. I chose boy…or, rather, young men’s clothes because I can lay my hands on quite a few that are almost worn out. From a distance we can pass muster, although I would not risk a close look.”
“Do your men know you are a woman?”Adaira asked.
“Yes, they do,” she replied. “They are very respectful, though.”
Adaira chuckled softly. “You are amazing, Keira,” she remarked. “How long has this been going on?”
“Four years,” Keira answered. “It all began a few years after all the terrible things my father had done. I was absolutely in pieces, and for a while I could not function properly. Then they contacted me, and as it happened, I was able to help them. Well, we helped each other.”
She told Adaira the story of her induction into the company of rebels and how she soon became its leader while the young woman stared at her in admiration.
“And all this was going on under my nose!” Adaira marveled. “Tell me how you laid hands on the boy clothes?”
Keira chuckled. “Moira, my maid, has four sons, and they all grow out of their clothes and are passed on to the next son. I picked out the old ones that I needed and paid her for them, and you have no idea how delighted she was!”