Corinne sat in the solar, her gaze drifting for the hundredth time from the ledgers before her to the door leading to the bedchamber.

Had it only been two days since Reid had taken her there against the hard oak? Warmth bloomed over her skin at the memories. His touch. His words. He loved her. And aye, he’d shown it.

She dragged the feathered end of her quill across her lower lip, her mind wandering. It was early afternoon, and Reid was training with his men outside despite the frigid bite to the air. Iron-colored clouds overhead had threatened snow all day.

She could go to him, make up an excuse to bring him inside from the cold. Or mayhap she wouldn’t even bother with a fib, for from the knowing looks Seanad and the other servants had been casting them, all in the keep knew what the two of them were so frequently getting up to.

Her lips tingled where the quill brushed them, heated thoughts of Reid’s wicked mouth on her lips, her breasts, between her legs teasing her.

Decided, she set the quill aside and rose from the desk, her pulse thumping in anticipation. She ducked into their chamber for her woolen cloak, but just as she stepped back into the solar, a knock came at the door.

“Another missive for ye, milady,” Gellis said from the landing.

Corinne called the lady’s maid in. “Good to see you again, Gellis,” she said with a smile. “How is your sister? Has her time come already?”

“Nay, milady,” Gellis replied, her gaze drifting from Corinne’s. “It will be a wee bit longer, but she appreciated my help.”

Corinne nodded, accepting the folded parchment Gellis extended toward her.

“When I passed through the village, Father Ewan asked me to deliver another one,” Gellis said by way of explanation.

Corinne quickly scanned the writing.

 

Dear Lady Corinne,

I was sorry to hear of your decision to withhold your gift from God’s service, but I understand that you must serve your husband and your new clan.

In your last missive, you offered to be of assistance if you were able. I hope you are able now, for a matter has arisen for which we are in desperate need of your help. Brother Matthew, who was working on a prayer book for one of Drumleigh Abbey’s most esteemed benefactors, fell while coming down the stairs. Brother Matthew was most fortunate to escape with only a broken wrist, but he will be unable to complete the prayer book by the date he’d promised our benefactor. He only had a few pages remaining, but our other scribes have been unable to take on his work, as they have tasks of their own.

I have sent the remaining few pages to Father Ewan with the fervent hope that you may be able to steal away for a few hours and complete them. We badly need your help, Lady Corinne, and time is of the essence, so I can only pray that you are able to reach Father Ewan when you receive this.

Godspeed,

Brother Michael

 

Corinne placed a hand over her heart when she was done reading. “Poor Brother Matthew—and poor Brother Michael,” she murmured to herself. She looked up to find Gellis’s wide brown eyes fixed on her.

“Is there something the matter, milady?” she asked.

Corinne tapped a finger on her lips as she considered. She’d already dressed to go outside, though if she went to the village church to work on Brother Matthew’s prayer book, it meant her tryst with Reid would have to wait. Heat climbed up her neck at that—she’d once thought to commit herself to life as a nun, and now she was contemplating ways to get out of serving the church to have an erotic encounter with her husband.

Corinne yanked her mind back to the matter at hand. Though only a few hours of gray daylight remained, it might be enough to complete the last remaining pages of a prayer book. Besides, Reid was busy training, and the ledgers she’d been working on could wait.

“I think I had better go to Father Ewan,” she replied, folding the missive and tucking it into a pocket in her cloak.

“I’ll go with ye,” Gellis blurted. She ducked her brown head. “Ye shouldnae leave the castle alone, milady.”

At Corinne’s nod of acquiescence, Gellis went to fetch her own cloak, then the two of them descended to the great hall. As they stepped outside, Corinne pinched the front of her cloak closed. The air was sharp with cold and heavy with the smell of impending snow. She shivered, her breath coming in a white puff before her face.

As they crossed to the sea gate, Corinne strained to see across the yard to the training grounds on the opposite side of the keep. Though she made out a group of men sparring, a cloud of steam rising from the heat of their exertions, she couldn’t spot Reid.

Seeming to sense the direction of her thoughts, Gellis said, “I’m sure ye’ll be done with Brother Matthew’s prayer book and back to the castle long before the Laird calls an end to the training for the day, milady.”

“You’re probably right,” Corinne said, continuing on.

At the sea gate, they found that Timothy was already on the island’s small beach, so they didn’t have to wait for him to be signaled from the village docks. As always, he rowed in silence, his breaths making a frosty plume with each of the oar’s strokes.

When they reached the docks, Gellis helped her up. “Come, milady,” she said, her pace quick as she made her way toward the village church.

Corinne hurried after her, for though it seemed strange for Gellis to take the lead, walking faster did help warm her a bit.

Corinne followed the widest street in the village, which she’d taken on her wedding day to get from the docks to the church, but when the little spire came into view, Gellis turned down a narrow alley.

“Father Ewan will likely be in his private chambers at this hour,” Gellis said over her shoulder. “I ken a back entrance that will be faster.”

Corinne frowned as they wound their way deeper into the dim alley. As she stared at Gellis’s back, a realization struck her. Gellis had said that Corinne would be able to finish Brother Matthew’s prayer book quickly and get back to the castle, but Corinne had never mentioned why she was going to the church.

Unease slithered up her spine. Mayhap Gellis had read the missive before delivering it. It hadn’t been sealed, for it didn’t contain anything worth hiding. Nonetheless, it would be impertinent of Gellis to read it.

Could Gellis even read, though? Corinne had only rarely known of servants who could.

Something wasn’t right.

“Gellis, I think we should—”

Just then, they rounded a corner—into a dead end.

An enormous shadow pushed off from the stone wall sealing the end of the alley. The shadow loomed forth, materializing into a giant of a man.

A scream rose in Corinne’s throat, but before it left her mouth, the giant’s hand closed around her neck and he lifted her clear off the ground. Corinne’s feet kicked wildly, looking for purchase on something. Blessedly, a heartbeat later the giant released her. But instead of simply dropping her, he flung her against the stone wall he’d been leaning against a moment before.

Pain and light exploded through her as she slammed into the stones and crumpled to the ground. Blinding stars danced before her eyes as she struggled to draw a breath into her battered body.

Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Gellis’s voice, but instead of a scream of panic or pain, the lady’s maid whispered. “Don’t kill her yet, ye fool!” she hissed.

“Shut yer mouth, woman,” was the deep-voiced reply. “I’m only making sure she willnae be able to struggle overmuch.”

Bile and vomit rose in the back of Corinne’s throat. She’d walked into a trap—that Gellis had conspired to set.

A hard boot nudged her. Though she couldn’t find her limbs through the throbbing pain, she blinked, the white edges of her vision receding until she could make out both Gellis and her attacker’s shadows looming over her.

“Ye see,” the man commented. “She’s fine, only stunned.”

“Just do as we planned, Mungo,” Gellis whispered, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

The man, Mungo, closed in on her. Corinne shied back, sucking in a breath to scream for help. But Mungo’s enormous hand clamped around her throat once more, squeezing until Corinne sputtered.

Taking advantage of her wheezing, he released her and swiftly gagged her with a length of cloth. Then he jerked her limp hands up and bound her wrists with a rope.

“Hurry,” Gellis hissed, watching the empty alleyway.

Mungo unsheathed a dagger from his boot and lifted it toward Corinne’s face. She screamed against the gag, not caring that it muffled her cry. But instead of drawing the blade across her throat, Mungo pinched a lock of her hair and held it up.

“Isnae much here to cut,” he grumbled, eyeing her already-shorn locks. “But they’ll ken by the color that it’s hers.”

With that, he slid the dagger along the strands and dropped the two-inch-long lock onto the ground. Then he pulled a scrap of red and green plaid from the pouch on his belt and dropped it alongside the little clump of hair.

Through the numb shock clouding her mind, recognition dawned. She’d seen that plaid before. Laird MacDonnell had worn those colors when he’d visited—or rather, descended upon—Eilean Donan. Her gaze shot to Mungo. Beneath his cloak, he wore a different plaid of green and brown checked wool.

Comprehension turned her blood to ice. This wasn’t just a trap for her—it was a trap for Reid as well. Whoever Gellis was working with, they meant to not only kidnap Corinne, but to frame the MacDonnells for it.

They meant to start a war.

Mungo suddenly yanked her to her feet by her elbow. He lowered his brown head until his cold, hard gaze was even with hers. Giving her a sickening grin, he reached around and pulled up her hood.

“Cannae have that bonny hair giving us away,” he said. “No’ until we’re onto MacDonnell land, that is.”

“Let’s go,” Gellis whispered. “I cannae be recognized either.”

Mungo snorted as he dragged Corinne out of the dead end and into the alley. “Too late for ye, anyway,” he muttered. “Ye will be the last one seen with the English bitch. When they find the MacDonnell plaid, they’ll believe ye were in on her kidnapping.”

“Laird MacVale will protect me,” Gellis murmured.

Despite the pain and terror radiating through her, Corinne’s mind latched onto Gellis’s words.

MacVale.

Of course. The clan had been causing trouble for the MacDonnells. They would benefit from driving a wedge between their neighbors and the Mackenzies, who were aiding them.

They turned another corner to find two saddled horses waiting. Clearly everything had been arranged, planned out to ensure a war.

Mungo mounted one of the horses and dragged Corinne into the saddle in front of him. Gellis took the other horse, carefully raising her hood as the first flakes of snow began to fall.

As Mungo kicked the horse into motion, sending them swiftly out of the village, a new thought struck her. It stole her breath just as sure as when she’d slammed into the stone wall.

She knew their plans. She knew their names and their faces. They hadn’t attempted to hide aught from her once they’d subdued her.

Which meant that sooner or later, they planned to kill her.