Davina was organizing her birthday party, which was to take place on the Friday before Grant and Maura's departure. It was going a lot more easily than the first one now that she had some experience, but Athol was restless. He had been invited over to Lyle's for the afternoon for chess, dice, and an afternoon of gentlemen's conversation, but his mind was elsewhere.

"I am so close to finding out the truth," he complained, "but everything is 'mights' and 'maybes.' It is all so vague. I have to talk to Lyle about it again."

"It is very unlikely you will find the truth lurking around here," Davina observed dryly, "it is an elusive beast and does not want to be found, so go and see Lyle. If you can't find it there, then talk sheep or play chess or wrestle or whatever else overgrown boys do to amuse themselves." Davina was in a frivolous mood.

"You do not have a high opinion of your husband, madam," he laughed. "You will be living in his home soon, so have a care."

"It will be our home," she pointed out.

"And we will have the most gorgeous bedroom." Athol nuzzled her neck with soft lips.

Davina cast her eyes heavenward. "You have only one topic of conversation!" She pretended to be outraged. "Go!"

Laughing, Athol kissed her and left. He began to think about all his options in the Maura matter as he ambled along the road toward Lyle's house. Nothing was going to be easy. He could try to find out the identities of the other people she was blackmailing. He could try to find out who her lover was. He could try to find one of her slanderers, and with all that information he could, he thought, piece together a case against her.

And what then? He would be saved the blackmail money and so would the others, whoever they were. The men who had spread the false rumors could be dealt with by a spell in his dungeons. But proving that she had committed a murder would be much more difficult, and when it was proved, Athol would have to tell Grant, and he would be devastated.

In Maura's original plan, Grant would never have found out about anything, but the scheme had been a costly failure. He turned off the cliff path to go to Lyle's house and alighted at the front door just as Mary came out.

"Athol!" she cried in delight. "I am so glad to see you." She embraced him quickly and then grimaced. "He has six lairds in there! Six! He is right in the thick of it. God alone knows how much whiskey they will drink, but I think I must brew him a gallon of willow bark tea for the morning. Be careful and keep a tight rein on your appetites, now. If anyone needs me I will be in the parlor with Maura and Finella."

Just make sure that witch stays there, Athol thought savagely. The idea of Maura being a few yards away made him sick to his stomach.

It was a measure of the lairds' regard for Lyle and Duncan Shaw that they accorded father and son the same status as themselves. As he went into the dining room where the games were being played, Athol was greeted by a roar of welcome. There had obviously been an early start to the drinking, for some of the men looked distinctly under the weather already.

Lyle stood up to embrace Athol, and said very quietly, "I have been doing some investigating."

Athol raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

"Some very interesting truths are coming to light with the help of our good friend John Barleycorn." Lyle held up a bottle of whiskey and gave Athol a wicked grin. "And I still have three bottles left!"

Athol sat down at the gaming table, having first served himself a small whiskey with a generous amount of water in it and some game, fish, cheese and fruits from the buffet. He began to play dice with the lairds only after having received a stern warning from Laird McNeil.

"Now you know what happens to cheaters, Laird Murray the Younger!"

"I do." Athol laughed. He took the lozenge-shaped die and spun it between his forefinger and thumb.

"You will impale my palm on it. M'laird, be at ease. My code of honor forbids me from doing such a wicked thing." Then he laughed. "And anyway, I have no idea how to cheat."

"Athol Murray always tries to appear stupid," Laird Young observed, "when in fact he is one of the cleverest men I know."

Lyle agreed. "We have been friends since we were boys," he said, pointing at Athol, "so I know. He can run faster than I can, lift heavier weights, and punch his way out of any fight, but he has never beaten me at chess."

"I beat Maura McKay," Athol pointed out, spreading his hands. "That must be worth something." He looked around them as if to seek their opinion, but they were all looking at the table, and on each of their faces was an expression of utter disgust.  

"She wasn't a bad player." He appeared to be reasoning with them, but in fact, he was watching their eyes. "What's wrong?"

"She's not a fit person for decent company," Laird McTavish said, frowning.

"She's very beautiful," Athol pointed out.

"Beauty is only skin deep," Laird Nairn countered, his eyes hostile.

"What has she ever done to you?" Athol was rolling the die between his fingers and looked up at the other man innocently. He noticed some glances between the others but said nothing.

"Nothing. Not to me anyway," Nairn grunted. "Let us play."

Athol obeyed and started the game. Laird Patterson began to lose heavily and soon prepared to leave. "Before you go, Jamie," Athol said, "I need to talk to you all."

Jamie Patterson sat down again, frowning at Athol's grim tone.

"I wanted to talk about Maura." He took a deep breath. "She has been blackmailing me. Has she been doing the same to any of you?"

There was a long pause,

"Yes, me," Laird McPhee said, sounding as if the words were being dragged out of him.

"And me," Laird Young put in.

"And me," Laird McTavish said with a sigh.

"And I have a strange feeling she has another lover too." Athol's glance swept around the table. "Gentlemen, what we say must never leave this room. Other lives are involved. Agreed?"

There were nods and murmurs of agreement.

"Has any of you been approached by men from the south telling you to order your sons, not to court Davina?" He asked.

"Yes," Laird Patterson said. He and Laird Young looked astonished.

"How did you know that?" Laird Young asked. "We were told to keep it to ourselves under fear of reprisals."

"I think that she may have organized that too," Athol admitted grimly, "but her campaign did not succeed."

They laughed.

"My men captured one," Laird Young said suddenly.

"Why did you not say so?" Lyle asked, astonished.

"He would not speak. He was terrified," the laird answered. "I horsewhipped him and still he would say naught."

Athol winced. he would never have done such a thing. "Have you still got him?" he asked.

"Yes. His name is Stuart McDonnell."

"Where does she get these people from?" Athol thought aloud.

"He sounds as though he is from Clydeside," Laird Young replied.

"There is much unrest in the south," Laird McTavish said, "many people are desperate."

"One more thing," Athol's tone was grim. "I think she may have arranged or even carried out, the poisoning of Una and Ruaridh Anderson. I have no proof yet, but I know."

"That is a serious accusation, Athol." Laird Mullan said gravely.

"But that is all it is at this stage," Athol answered. "But the proof will come, I am sure of it. Now, if you would be so kind, John, please will you take me to this captive of yours?"

"Of course," he agreed.

Athol stood up and bowed to the others. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said politely, "and remember, not a word leaves this room."

There was a chorus of agreement and farewell.

On the way out, Athol saw Maura going to the corridor that led to the privy. He motioned Laird Young to wait for him then followed her at a distance with as much stealth as he could. She did not go to the privy, however. She stopped at the third door down the passage and knocked on it with a series of raps that sounded like a code.

The door was opened and she went inside, but Athol had not been able to see who was on the other side. He crept closer and heard a familiar voice. Maura and the man were talking and laughing, but it was what they said that made Athol glower with anger. It was all he could do not to kick the door down and throttle them.