“Maybe he’ll fall down,” the first man mused.
“Wishful thinkin’,” his friend replied, before they both burst into a fit of laughter.
Keira stood still for a moment, thinking. Could this be her chance? What would happen if he caught her? She knew that the punishment would be dire, but the opportunity was too good to miss. She walked back toward the office and checked that no one was in the passage or on the stairs, then she quietly opened the door.
She took her father’s office key from the door and made an impression with it in a bar of soft soap before replacing the key in the lock. A few days later, she found a blacksmith who would do the unscrupulous work for her for quite a hefty chunk of her allowance. Now she would be able to go in and out of his office as she pleased.
The first thing she saw was a letter on the desk in her father’s hand. She tiptoed around the desk to read it. It was unfinished, but there was enough there on the page to make the meaning quite clear. It was a letter of extortion from her father toward the laird of the Allen clan. Keira had always had a prodigious memory, and she put it to good use now. She read the document three times over until she remembered it almost word for word, then she rushed up to her bedroom and wrote down everything she could remember.
Armed with this, she was able to alert Laird Allen to her father’s nefarious plan, which failed completely because of her actions. Since then, Laird Allen had become one of her most trusted allies, even though he hated her father.
Shortly afterward, she and Moira were attending a market in the nearby town of Sundra when they were approached by a small, grey-haired old lady. Despite her obvious age, she had a sweet smile.
“Mistress McTavish, is it no’?” she asked. “Laird McTavish’s wee lassie?”
“That is my name,” Keira answered, a little mystified. “What is yours?”
“Teresa Allen,” the old lady answered. “I am pleased tae meet ye. Ye don’t know me, but ye know my grandson. He was the one that took the message tae Laird Allen. Dinnae worry, this is between ye an’ me. I wanted tae thank ye for what ye did for the Allens. It stopped a war between us an’ the McTavishes, hen, an’ naybody wants a war. You are a brave lass. Come an’ meet my grandson Colm.”
“Thank you,” Keira replied, a little overwhelmed. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere secret,” the old lady whispered.
The “somewhere secret” turned out to be a small cave hidden behind some undergrowth on the outskirts of the village, and that was where she had met all the men who were sitting with her at that moment.
* * *
She was jerked back to reality when one of the men, a potter named James McFarlane, clapped his hands in front of her face.
“Ye were miles away, hen,” he observed, laughing.
Keira laughed sheepishly. “I was just thinking about the first time we met,” she confessed.
James laughed. “Aye, there has been much water under the bridge since then.” He sighed sadly. “Old Granny Teresa is gone now, God rest her soul.”
“Aye, she was such a good woman,” all the men agreed, raising their glasses.
“Thank ye for the food, mistress,” Ben Hamilton said, holding up his cup of ale in a toast.
Keira nodded and smiled in acknowledgment, then said, “Tuck in, lads.” The men needed no second bidding and fell on the food as though they were starving, which a few of them were, she reasoned.
“What is the news, mistress?” James asked expectantly.
Every time they met, the rebels arrived hopeful and left somewhat less so. They had sent messages to all the lairds in the area asking for their help in alleviating the famine that was gripping their land, caused in part by the laird’s greed. Unfortunately, all the other clans in the area had found themselves in the same unfortunate position, and none of them had been able to come to their aid. In fact, many had not even answered.
However, this time she had an announcement to make that she hoped would change everything.
“Lads,” she began, “I have just heard a bit of news from the castle that might change everything for us.”
She looked around at their expectant faces and drew out the suspense as long as she could, then gave them a grim smile.
“My father has told me that there is an Englishman coming to the castle to make an alliance with the McTavishes,” she told them. “This alliance is, of course, a marriage to me. Needless to say, that marriage will never happen, although I have judged it best to cooperate with the old tyrant ’til our plan is carried out.” She scowled as she referred to her father. “The man will be coming with a convoy of goods with which he hopes to trade when he arrives here, but my father will never get his greedy hands on them.”
Keira stood up and began to pace around the small room. “My father says that this man, Lord Adrian Wentworth, Earl of Champling, is very wealthy.” Her eyes moved around them once more. “But I do not think that his plan is to marry him to me, but to hold him for ransom. That way, not only does he have the goods the earl is bringing, but the earl himself, whom he can hold for ransom. You might think that this is a fanciful notion on my part, lads, and I have no actual proof, but trust me. I know how his mind works.”
“That is a good plan for the laird,” Ben observed thoughtfully, “but is his family no’ likely tae send an army to rescue him?”
Keira shook her head. “It would have to be an army of thousands,” she answered. “And their presence would stir up so much hostility that it would not be worth their while. My father is a bad man, but not a stupid one. He knows that it would be far simpler for the earl’s family to pay up and be done with it. Of course, that would end any chance of a marriage to me, but I would not lose any sleep over that!”