Ailsa had been sorely disappointed when Fingal wouldn’t release Lucas from the dungeon. She tried to accept his decision without argument but by the midday meal she knew she had to try again. Lucas hadn’t given up on gaining her some freedoms at Castle Grant. And she didn’t care what Gillian said about him being treated well. Even if he’d been given a feather tick, warm blankets, books, an endless stack of candles, and food fit for a king—it was the dungeon. Besides, she was certain he hadn’t been given those luxuries.

And worst of all, she couldn’t see him there.

When she went down to the great hall, she was prepared to make a calm, reasonable plea. Then she saw Tomas walking through the front doors with Duff at his side. The one comfort she’d had was that he wasn’t alone. She’d sent Duff to him.

“What are ye doing? Why do ye have Duff?” she demanded. “He’s supposed to be with Lucas.”

On seeing his mistress, Duff trotted happily to her.

Ailsa went down on one knee and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Duff. I wanted ye to watch over Lucas for me.”

Just then Gillian came into the hall from the rear entrance. “Gillian, ye said Duff could stay with Lucas. Why was he taken away? This is wrong.”

“Ailsa, ye don’t understand,” Tomas started to explain.

“I understand that I was only allowed to show Lucas one kindness, in spite of what he’s done for me. And now that’s been taken away.”

Gillian shook her head. “Ailsa, Duff wasn’t taken away. Lucas wanted him to have a bit of fresh air.”

“He did?”

“Aye, sweetling. Ye’re right, he’s a kind man. Tomas took him out for a run and Tarmon will take him back down soon.”

“Can’t I go too?” she asked. “Even for a few minutes?”

“Ailsa, please, this is getting old.”

Ailsa stood up and looked her sister in the eye. “Is it? Tell me, Gillian. If Fingal were locked in someone’s dungeon, would ye sit back patiently and wait for his captors to decide to release him?”

“It’s not the same thing. Fingal is my husband.”

“I see. Ye don’t believe Lucas and I love each other.”

“Actually, I do, pet.”

“Then it is the same thing.”

“All right. Ye’re right. I would hound everyone until I was given access to him.”

“Then I can go see him?”

“Nay, ye can’t.” Before Ailsa could object, Gillian added, “But, I will ask Fingal if we can remove Lucas from the dungeon and have him guarded in one of the chambers upstairs.”

Ailsa heaved a sigh of relief. “And I can see him then.”

“Let me just talk to Fingal about it first. Please be patient until after the midday meal. Then we’ll see what we can do.”

It wasn’t the answer Ailsa wanted, but it was at least it was a step in the right direction.

During the meal, Ailsa made certain she sat nowhere near Fingal. She didn’t trust herself not to push him again to let her see Lucas, and she didn’t want to anger him. She’d let Gillian try it her way.

But before the meal was over, a guardsman came rushing into the hall and went straight to Fingal. He spoke too softly for Ailsa to hear from where she sat, but she wasn’t left wondering about it for long.

Fingal rose. “I have just been told that a large contingent of armed men bearing the Grant’s standard approach Brathanead.”

His announcement was met with momentary silence before everyone started talking at once.

“Quiet!” commanded Fingal. “There is no reason to panic. They also bear a white flag. I don’t think they mean to do us any harm, but we should secure Brathanead as a precaution. Any villagers who wish to shelter within the curtain walls are welcome to do so, but they must come now. Ye all know what must be done, I trust ye to do it.”

He kissed Gillian on the cheek and left the hall with the guardsmen who were there.

Gillian stood and calmly began issuing orders in order to ready the castle for potentially unwanted guests.

Ailsa stood in the midst of the controlled chaos processing everything that had just happened.

The Grants were coming.

If Fingal hadn’t decided what he was going to do yet, he had very little time left.

Very little time? There was almost none. After having worried and waited and drawn on every bit of patience she possessed, the conclusion to the entire drama appeared to be at hand.

She wanted to be excited.

She wanted to believe things would all work, the promise Lucas had made as he was being hauled away to the Brathanead dungeon.

She wanted to believe that Fingal wanted to see her happy.

But doubt began to swirl in her gut.

She had always considered Fingal reasonable. She loved him as a brother and she knew he loved her. But what if this was simply too much? What if he couldn’t condone allowing her to marry a Grant? Worse, what if she was never allowed to see Lucas again? What if Fingal simply handed him over to his brother and they were separated forever?

She couldn’t accept that.

She had to see him, speak to him. Touch him.

Glancing around her, she realized there would never be a better time. In the flurry of activity no one would notice if she left the hall by the cellar stairs.

There was no guard placed on the door to the cellars because there was no need for one. There were always guards posted in the hall and Lucas would have to get through two locked doors before he reached this one.

But the guards in the hall were focused on the more immediate danger presented by the Grants outside the walls, not the one locked in the dungeon.

So, without giving it a second thought, she crossed the hall and slipped through the cellar door.

She couldn’t take a torch, or even a candle, but it didn’t matter. She knew the way and she knew there would be a torch in the dungeon. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, made her way past the storage rooms to the end of the corridor and the door that led to the dungeon. She felt for the keys, which hung on a ring nearby. She had to try a few before she found the one that opened it.

Once through the door, she hurried down the stairs. As she knew there would be, a torch in a wall sconce casted a flickering light on the cells.

As soon as she stepped into the corridor, Lucas was on his feet. “Ailsa, what are ye doing here?”

Duff padded to the cell door his tail wagging.

She rushed to the cell door and reached through to caress Lucas’s face. “I had to see ye. To make sure ye were all right.”

He took her hands in his. “Oh, sweetling, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. But ye don’t belong down here. Surely yer laird didn’t allow this.”

“Of course he didn’t. My sister didn’t either.” She fumbled with the keys, trying to find the one that would unlock his cell.

“Then please, Ailsa, ye mustn’t do this. Go back upstairs. I don’t want ye to garner their ill will.”

“I can manage their ill will. But what I can’t manage, what I don’t think I can live with, is never seeing ye again.”

“Oh, my sweet lass, why do ye think ye’ll never see me again?”

“Because a large contingent of Grant warriors are drawing near and I’m afraid.”

“No one will hurt ye, love. Ye’re well protected.”

“I’m not afraid of yer clansmen. I’m afraid that yer brother and Fingal won’t reach an agreement about us. It would kill me to lose ye.” She finally found the key that unlocked his cell. When the door was open, she stepped into his embrace.

“Ailsa, I love ye with all my heart.” He bent down, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “I’m sorry all of this has happened. But making yer family angrier with us now won’t help anything. I don’t want someone to come down and find that not only are ye down here when ye’ve been forbidden to be, you’ve unlocked my cell too.”

She shook her head. “They’re too busy at the moment to even notice. I’m just worried…” Dear God, she couldn’t bear to think about it.

“What is it, Ailsa?”

“I’m just worried about…well, Lucas, do ye suppose yer brother is here to offer a ransom?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Nay, sweetling, I can’t imagine that, but I honestly don’t know.”

“Fingal hadn’t made up his mind yet. Lucas, I don’t want Fingal to accept a ransom.”

“Neither do I. But it’s as I told ye, my brother isn’t likely to pay anything for my return. But I think Fingal is almost convinced to offer him a betrothal and peace. If that happens…”

Hope swelled within her. “William would accept that wouldn’t he?”

“I hope so.”

“Ye hope so? Do ye think he might not?”

“Let’s not borrow trouble, Ailsa.”

“Nay, Lucas, I don’t know how many times ye’ve told me I don’t worry enough. Now I’m worried. I can’t lose ye. I won’t.” Tears welled in her eyes.

He cupped her face in his hands. “Please don’t cry. I sure things will work out.”

She rested her hands on his chest. “But ye aren’t certain of that are ye? I can tell how worried ye are.”

“Well, I’m hopeful at least. Let’s not panic.”

“I’m not panicking.” She knew that wasn’t completely true and drew a deep breath, to calm herself. As she did, a thought occurred to her. “I think there might be a way.”

“A way to do what?”

“A way for us to escape. To go away together and not let our fates rest in the hands of our families.”

“Ailsa, we can’t—”

“Nay, listen to me. There’s something ye need to know. Brathanead has a bolt hole. It’s nearly impossible to find from the outside, and even from the inside, ye have to know the secret to getting out. But if ye think this might end by us being torn apart…well, I don’t want to risk that. Things are in such an uproar upstairs, we could do it. We’d have to cross the great hall and go upstairs to the entrance of the bolt hole, but then we can just leave…together. I’ll miss my family, but I cannot live without ye.”

“Ailsa, I love ye so very much. But we can’t do that. First, even amidst chaos, I will be noticed. There isn’t a single chance we could hope to escape being seen. And second, I will not run. I promised Fingal that I would not risk angering my brother to the point that he would wreak vengeance on Clan MacLennan.”

She could scarcely believe what he’d just said. “That couldn’t happen. Could it? Would yer brother do that?”

“Oh, sweetling, I don’t think so. But I refuse to do anything that would risk harming ye or the people ye love.”

“But if we just left, it would be as much against Fingal’s wishes as yer brother’s. William couldn’t blame it on Fingal or my clan.”

“I won’t deny that the opportunity to flee with ye is tempting, but ye would never forgive yerself or me if our actions brought harm to the MacLennans. Nay, my word is my bond and I will not break it.”

“But—”

He put a finger to her lips. “No buts. The best solution to this whole situation is a betrothal and peace. I believe Fingal sees that and will do whatever it takes to gain it. Have a little faith in the people who love ye.”

She sighed heavily. “I will.” She frowned. “I mean, it isn’t easy, but I’ll try.”

He chuckled. “There is so much I love about ye, but yer forthrightness is close to the top of the list. Now, lock the door and go back upstairs.”

“Nay. I am staying here with ye.”

“But, Ailsa—”

“What is it ye’re always saying? No buts? Well no buts, Lucas. Ye can’t make me leave without going upstairs and ye said ye won’t do that. So I won’t leave. When this is resolved, they will come down here for ye. I intend to be here then too.”

“Then at least lock the cell door again.”

“Nay, I won’t do that either. I want to be near ye. Besides, ye refuse to leave anyway, so it seems pointless to lock ye up.”