Malcolm shifted in his seat while he waited for his wife. He’d sent Keith ahead to retrieve her whilst he concluded probing his father for information. Thirty-six MacLeods sat in the dungeon, including Sheona’s brother, Alasdair

From what he could piece together, his father intended to use them as ransom to gain power over not only the MacLeods, but also their allies, the MacKenzies. His father would know that Rorie MacLeod would go to the MacKenzie for assistance and Malcolm’s father intended to use his prisoners as bait and pawn.

Malcolm was deep in thought when gasps around the table drew his attention. His gaze shifted from the men to his father and then to the direction in which his father’s eyes were fixed.

He turned to find Sheona wearing a gown he’d seen on his mother many times. The gold-trimmed green made the flame in her hair even brighter. With her chin lifted high, she crossed the great hall and took the seat nearest Malcolm. He smiled at her bravery. The scowl on his father’s face was enough to frighten his own men.

“You look lovely, my lady.”

“She has no business wearing that gown,” the MacDonald said. “I insist she go above stairs and change immediately.”

Sheona’s eyes widened and she bowed her head, clasping her hands in her lap. Damn his father for his brutality!

“She will do no such thing,” Malcolm said. “Mother has been gone these ten years and her gowns wither and fade in the chests in her chamber. She would want them worn.”

“I care not for what you think your mother would want.” The MacDonald stood and pointed at Sheona. “She does not belong in this hall and she does not belong in my wife’s gowns!”

Sheona toppled her chair in her haste to flee. She dashed to the stairs and disappeared beyond. His father sat down and continued eating his meal as though nothing had happened.

“You are out of line, Father.” Malcolm pushed his chair back and stood.

“Sit down.”

“I will not.”

“You will sit down or I will have her put in the dungeon with the rest of the MacLeod filth and I’ll tell the guards to use her as often as they see fit.” Juices from the meat he sucked ran freely into his beard. The sight was enough to turn the strongest stomach.

“You will not treat my wife this way. She may have been a MacLeod, but she is a MacDonald now. If you punish her, you punish one of your own.”

Malcolm was pleased when others around the table, including Keith, nodded in agreement. Though his father’s word was law, there were enough present with the courage to challenge him and it was a glad sight to see those men willing to stand up if necessary.

His father stabbed his knife into the table. “Ye will do as I say, the lot of ye!”

Malcolm glanced around the hall. The men all reacted as he had hoped. They didn’t back down; in fact, their demeanour changed such that they looked ready to battle. Good. Malcolm would need most of them onside if he was going to succeed in his plan to end all of this once and for all.

“You are laird here, Father. No one questions that. All I am saying is that, like any other woman who has come into this clan by marriage, Sheona deserves to be treated as our kin, regardless of where she came from. She’s given no cause for anyone to mistrust her, and as for the gowns, if ’tis too painful for you to see mother’s gowns I shall remove them from Sheona’s chests immediately.”

Malcolm waited. He’d just dug his finger into an open wound and wasn’t quite sure what the outcome might be.

His father’s eyes narrowed. “I am in no pain from the loss of your mother.” He flicked his hand to the side. “Let the lass have the gowns, but if she makes one move that I think is against any MacDonald, in the dungeon she goes. Are we clear?”

“Aye, Father. We are clear on that.” Malcolm resumed his seat and motioned a server to approach. “See that Lady MacDonald is sent a trencher of food and a pitcher of mead.” He would bring it himself except he wished to acquire more information from his father.

“It is good to know you are not so whipped you would go running to her chamber yourself. Perhaps I have misjudged you, Malcolm, and you have bigger plans for the lass?”

He hadn’t thought about playing along. It could serve a purpose in gaining some additional trust and information. His father had only ever fully trusted his captain and his wife. Now neither remained.

* * *

Sheona flung herself onto the bed and wept. How would she ever learn to live with a man like the MacDonald? He was the worst sort of brute. Would she ever know a moment’s peace or must she always be on guard?

She pushed herself off the bed and clawed at the ties of her gown. Wiggling, she finally got it over her head and threw it across the chamber. She circled the room twice in search of her own gown and found it folded on top of a chest in the corner. Once donned, she smoothed her skirt and squared her shoulders.

She was a MacLeod. No MacDonald had ever been worth her tears and by God she would not start with this one. Sheona smiled and wondered what he would say should she re-enter the great hall and take her place as though nothing had happened.

Just when she was about to walk to the door, the sound of laughter pulled her back. She was so close to the stone wall that it sounded like it came from the other side. Did another chamber adjoin this one? She wasn’t sure. But the laughter was unmistakable.

Pressing her ear to the wall, she waited for a voice to follow and jumped back when the wall shifted toward her. A crack about six feet in height revealed a hidden doorway. Louder now, the laughter was comforting—beckoning her.

Sheona peered through the crack. A dim light revealed a staircase. Her mind raced as a shiver ran through her. Should she enter? And how in heaven’s name had she tripped the door? Where did the light come from?

She hesitated only a moment before pulling the door farther open and stepping over the threshold. When she was fully through, the door closed behind her. She whipped around and tried to find the trigger for the door. Her fingers fumbled over the cold stones until she found an indentation. She pressed her fingers inside, hoping there would be something in there to help her. All the way in she pushed on a smooth stone and the door released. She smiled.

A secret door in her chamber. Well, that could come in handy if she ever felt threatened. She shuffled her feet around until she found another stone slightly raised and pressed down with her foot. The door closed. All she had to do was find out how to trigger it from the outside.

Laughter drew her attention to the stairs. Pleased by her discovery, she took a deep breath and turned toward the sound. She felt along the wall to guide her and followed the light, which appeared to be moving. Perhaps, whoever it was carried a small torch.

She stayed back from the light’s path, but followed it down about thirty steps.

“Sheona,” a voice whispered.

The light dimmed and she could barely make out a figure just ahead. Her hair prickled on her arms. She’d been caught! Oh Lord, would they tell the laird? Would he throw her in the dungeon? Surely, they would think she was trying to escape. What would Malcolm think? She would plead with them to say nothing and then she would return to her chamber and forget about the door.

“Who’s there?”

Laughter filled the space around her and calmed her.

“I am here to help you.”

“Who are you?”

“Someone who cares about what happens to this clan.”

“Are you a servant?”

The woman laughed again. “No. I am not a servant.”

“But I saw no other high-born ladies here. Do you come from a different clan?”

“I came from a different clan once and married into this one. But that was a long time ago.”

“Where do you live?”

“Within these walls. I watch everything that goes on here. Sometimes, I like what I see and sometimes it saddens me.” The woman’s voice took on a sombre tone. “You must heed my warning, Sheona. Stay away from the laird. Never be alone with him. Do you ken?”

“Aye, I do, and I have no intention of being alone with him or even in the same room with him.”

“I am glad to hear it. But you must return to your chamber before anyone notices you are missing. A trencher of food will be brought to you soon. Go. Go!”

Sheona turned to leave but looked back. “Will you tell me who you are?”

“Another day, lass.”

Sheona raced up the stairs and found the stone to trip the door. She was just through and had pushed it back in place when a knock sounded from the main one to the chamber. She drew a deep breath and crossed the room to answer it.

“Lady MacDonald are you in there?” The maid sounded worried. How long had she been knocking?

Sheona opened the door and yawned. “I was sleeping and did not hear you. All is well.”

Agnes eyed her with a raised brow. “You have cobwebs in your hair.”

Sheona smoothed her hair. “I was looking for something that fell under the bed.”

“I clean these chambers, Lady MacDonald. I assure you, there are no webs under there.”

What could she say? Did she trust Agnes?

The maid entered the chamber and placed a trencher of food on a side table then turned to leave. She looked back. “You have earned my respect. Know that you can trust me with anything. I believe you may need a friend from time to time.”

With that Agnes left.

Sheona picked at her food and contemplated all she had endured during the day. What did any of it mean? Who was the woman in the stairwell? It made no sense. She was not about to share the information with anyone lest they all think she had gone mad. For now, she would keep the secret passage and the lady to herself.