It really did not matter. There was no way a Maclean and a Campbell could ever wed after that despicable deed more than a hundred years ago. Nor would he want his cousin to wed one. He was not a superstitious man, but it was true that many Maclean brides had died early. The curse had taken on a life of its own.

In any event, his father would never allow such a union. Never. It would mean war, and his cousin would understand that.

His gaze searched the defenses of Inverleith. Walls were fifteen feet thick and sixty in height. It would be no easy matter to take the keep.

The only weakness appeared to be a lack of trained men. But then they might well be out patrolling Maclean boundaries.

He swore silently at his helplessness and started pacing again.

Rory entered through the gates into the courtyard.

Douglas and Archibald appeared to be doing a good job preparing Inverleith. Herds of animals were grazing just outside, and some had been taken inside the gates. Training continued in the courtyard. The sentries on the wall had been doubled.

He and Lachlan dismounted, gave their reins to the young stable lad, and went into the tower.

The ride had relieved some of the tension that had built inside him. He had become increasingly confident that his plan could work.

They stopped by Felicia's room first. She was poring over a book, and with a start he recognized it. Caesar's 'Gallic Wars' in the original Latin.

She glanced up as the door opened, and her lips spread into a smile when she saw Lachlan, then her brows knitted together as her gaze met Rory's. And held.

He was still charmed by the deep rich blue of those eyes, even as he knew he had not been included in the glance that flashed between his brother and the Campbell lass.

"You can see your cousin, Lady Felicia," he said. He kept his voice cool and emotionless, even though, as usual, the sight of her brought a flooding warmth through his body.

She stood, relief eloquent on her face. Had she thought he had lied to her earlier when he'd assured her that James Campbell was unharmed?

"Thank you," she said.

"How is Alina?"

"She is sleeping. It is the best thing for her."

She looked at Lachlan, her eyes questioning. Rory realized she had not seen him since her transformation from a Cameron to a Campbell.

Lachlan gave her an encouraging smile, then approached her. "My lady," he said.

Her tentative smile became a grateful one, and something tugged at Rory's heart. He recalled how difficult it had been to control his emotions, his mixture of anger and dismay even as he'd wanted to reach out and touch her with gentleness, not with that sudden angry kiss.

But it was just as well that he had. He had to keep away from her, even as she had to stay here until his plan worked.

Or failed.

He went back to the door and held it wide. "My lady," he said in a voice that sounded cold even to him.

She glanced toward Lachlan. He nodded.

He wanted that smile for himself. God's eyes, but he knew something was very wrong when he was bedeviled with jealousy of both his enemy and his brother.

He hurried his pace to the steps, then led the way up. The guard posted at the door stepped aside.

"Any trouble?" Rory asked.

"Nay, milord."

Rory opened the door.

The Campbell whirled around, saw Felicia, and his frown turned into a cautious smile.

Felicia was not as constrained. She ran over to him, looked at him for a moment, as if to make sure he had not been treated poorly, then hugged him. Then she stepped back and looked again. Rory saw her gaze go over the man's gashes and bruises.

The Campbell looked uncomfortable under her gaze. "They are nothing," he said dismissively. "Are you unharmed? If the Macleans did anything ... ?"

"Nay. They have been kind."

Campbell's green eyes glittered. "They have been holding you against your will."

She shook her head. "I wanted to stay. It was ... safe."

Campbell looked at her with worry and doubt carved in his face. It was clear that though he had seemed to accept some of what Rory had said earlier, he had not been convinced.

The knife turned inside Rory. The two Campbells were looking at each other with an affection that he had known only too rarely.

"A nice reunion," he said. "Now that you both know the other is alive and basically unharmed, Lady Felicia will return to her room."

She whirled around and looked at him. "What are you going to do?"

"I want to talk with your cousin." He found himself stressing the word 'cousin'.

"I want to stay."

"That is not possible."

"Why?"

Rory turned to Lachlan. "Take the lady back to her chamber."

Lachlan sighed. "Aye."

"Put someone at her door to make sure she does not leave the chamber. Then return."

"I won't go," she said.

"I can carry you," Rory said.

The Campbell took a step toward him.

Rory saw Felicia's gaze move from his face to her cousin's. She bit her lip, then surrendered. "I will go," she said. "But I want to see Jamie again."

Jamie. Not James. Not cousin.

"We will see," Rory said.

She glared at him. All the softness that he had once seen in her eyes was gone. Anger glittered in them. Then she seemed to cloak herself in that outrage. Her back stiffened, and she walked out.

Lachlan arched an eyebrow, then followed.

"Was that necessary?" the Campbell asked.

"Aye, unless you want to put her in even more danger than she is now."

"I do not ken your meaning."

"I have learned much about Lady Felicia in the past days. If you accept my proposal, it is far better she knows nothing about it, or she will want to play a part. That could be very dangerous."

Campbell's silence was answer enough.

"Sit down," Rory said.

"I do not care to."

"Then I will," Rory said, taking the one chair in the room.

"What is your proposal?" Campbell asked. He stood at the window and looked out.

"Inverleith is impregnable," Rory said, reading his thoughts.

"Aye, if you choose to assault from without," Campbell said. "But it can be a prison in itself."

"I am fully aware of that."

"You know my father will mount a siege if my cousin isn't returned. The king will give his approval. Every clan who had ever felt wronged by the Macleans would join us."

"They would not risk your life."

"If I were you, I would not wager the future of the Maclean clan on it. My father feels deeply about honor."

"Honor?" Rory asked, lifting one eyebrow. "Campbells?"

The Campbell glared at him. "We have never chained a woman to a rock to drown."

Rory felt the familiar wave of shame that such an incident had occurred in his family. Still, the Campbells had as long and horrific a list of infamies.

He shrugged. "We both have relatives we cannot defend. But we both have much to lose as well."

Campbell sat on the table. "What do you have to offer?"

"I know who in the English court has given Morneith money. If you dangle that in front of him, he will have to act."

"And why would I do that?"

"You do not want him to marry your cousin."

"Why would he believe I would defy the king and my father for Felicia?"

"Not only for Felicia. For money as well."

"You want me to play a traitor?"

"Aye. It is the only way. I thought you wanted to help your cousin, or is she just a poor relation?"

Anger flared in Campbell's face, but he controlled it. "She is far more than that."

Rory wanted to explore that now, but that would be naught but self-torture. He had what he needed. The Campbell did indeed care deeply about Felicia. He would have to rely on that.

"Why me?" Campbell asked.

"Because soon all of Scotland will know that Felicia Campbell is here. I cannot leave now. And the words coming from a Campbell would have far more weight than if they were to come from the person who was holding the man's intended bride as hostage."

"You plan to keep her here then."

"Unless you wish her to wed Morneith."

"How do I know I can trust you? You might be leading 'me' into a trap."

"If you have not noticed, I have you. I do not particularly want you, but I will keep you if I must to save my people. Trapping Morneith solves both our problems. The king should be most grateful to you for revealing a traitor, and there would no longer be a question of a marriage to Morneith."

"And you? What do you get out of this?"

"Peace. That is what I came back to do."

"Peace?" Campbell's brows shot up as he regarded Rory with a penetrating gaze.

"This feud between our two clans benefits neither of us. It only hurts our tenants."

"How do you think we can trap Morneith?"

"Go to Edinburgh. Drop a name to one of his retainers. Wait until he tries to reach you. Then arrange a meeting place where a king's man can listen. Draw him out. Let him condemn himself."

"And you?"

"I will keep Lady Felicia here. She will be safe. If you need me at any time, send a messenger."

"Who?"

"One of my people. He will stay where you can reach him."

"You do not trust me?"