"You have not been mistreated?"

"Nay."

"Have you given your parole?"

Something flickered in his eyes. "No. But I am well guarded, and he knows no one can leave Inverleith without his permission."

"Your father will be furious."

"He often is."

"With the Macleans, I mean."

"Does that worry you?"

"Aye. There are children here. And people who have done no wrong other than to live on Maclean land."

He raised an eyebrow at her defense. "The same might be said of Campbell tenants."

"I do not want anyone hurt because of my foolishness."

"I only wish I had been at Dunstaffnage," he said softly.

"You could not have done anything for me there. My only chance was to find you in London without anyone knowing."

"Ah, my little lioness. I can imagine no other woman attempting what you did."

"You are not angry with Janet?"

"For helping you? Nay. I think more of her."

"Oh Jamie, I am so glad. I was afraid ..."

"Do you have so little faith in me, then?" he asked, his lips turned in a frown.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He was the only person who had loved her since her mother and father had died. He had been her knight as a child, and a dear friend and brother later.

"Oh no," she said. "I do have faith in you."

"Promise me something."

She looked up at him.

"Never forget what you just said. Always know that I love you. I will always protect you."

A shiver ran through her. She had the strangest feeling he was trying to tell her something he could not put into words.

"I trust you," she said simply.

It was then she noticed that the Maclean had entered the room and was staring at them with those inscrutable eyes.

*Chapter 19*

Jamie gazed down at the lass who had come to mean so much to him. He remembered when she had first arrived at Dunstaffnage. She had but five years and was obviously frightened and bewildered.

But still she had marched up to him, stared at him for a long time, then announced quite solemnly that she expected him to be her champion. It had been pure bravado. He had smiled then, and she had made him smile many times since. Smiles had been rare before she appeared.

His life had been training and discipline. His mother and father were often at court, and his guidance came from a sour steward and a number of demanding tutors and instructors in arms. Not long after Felicia arrived, he found her outside the room where the tutoring sessions were held. Even though the material was advanced, she had a thirst for knowledge that always eluded him. He had been amused, though, and insisted that she be allowed to stay for the sessions.

As she grew older, she would watch him practice with the broadsword and other weapons and, at twelve, had asked him to show her how to do it.

The sword had been almost as long as she was tall, and yet she had worked at swinging it and using a shield. She continued until she could best at least a few of the worst Campbell soldiers. Her size helped. She could dart in and out while others were hampered by heavy armor.

She had a dogged determination that amused and endeared her to nearly every soldier. Her desire to help often ended in disaster. Once when she decided the food was too bland, she added huge amounts of mustard. Every man was sneezing and wheezing.

'Twas not so long after that that his father secured a good cook.

All those thoughts went through his head as he looked down at her and knew that on the morrow she would feel betrayed by him. He wondered, not for the first time, whether he should tell her of the plan, but he was only too aware of her impulsiveness.

So he returned her hug, feeling awkward as he did so. His family did not indulge in gestures of affection. Although she would often throw her arms around him, he never initiated such gestures. Nor had he with Janet.

Then he became aware of the man behind him.

He had discovered what he wanted to know. Felicia had no fear of Rory Maclean, nor any of the Macleans. Though he was loath to leave her here, he had no other solution. She should be safe enough.

"I think my warden has returned," Jamie said. "I must go."

She turned and looked at the Maclean. Her heart was in her eyes, and suddenly he realized that...

It could not be. 'Not a Campbell and a Maclean'. Neither family would tolerate it. Then there was the curse. No Maclean wife...

No!

He swore then he would return and take Felicia to live with Janet and himself.

Rory had opened the door, not expecting to see Felicia in the Campbell's arms, nor to hear Jamie Campbell's softly spoken words, "'I love you'," and her response, "I trust you." What had she said before he entered?

Words that he would have liked to hear, and never would. She would learn of what he had planned, putting her love in harm's way and keeping the secret from her.

She would never forgive him, even when she realized they had done it for her. Particularly then.

He controlled his reaction to the scene in front of him. Felicia made no attempt to step away from the Campbell. Instead, she seemed to move closer, as if for protection.

Trust. Well he neither deserved it nor did he need it. He had his own life to live, and she could be no part of it.

He turned his gaze to the Campbell. "It is time to return," he said shortly.

Campbell looked back down at Felicia. "Remember what I told you."

Felicia frowned as if she sensed all was not as it appeared. He'd noticed earlier that she missed little and was uncommonly sensitive to nuances. Now her gaze moved from man to man. Questions were in her eyes.

Campbell saw it as well. He turned to Rory. "My thanks for the visit," he said.

"I trust it put your mind to ease as to her treatment," Rory replied.

"As much as it could be, seeing that she is in the hands of Macleans," Campbell replied.

He turned then and left the room. Rory lingered a moment. "I have ordered supper sent up to you."

She looked up at him with the solemn blue eyes that always affected him in a ridiculously heady way.

He ached to share supper with her, but he knew by now the way she affected him, the odd way his heart shifted whenever he looked into her face.

He also was not certain how she would be greeted as a Campbell, despite his warning to Douglas. He did not want her hurt any more than necessary. And he had few doubts that tonight--the escape of her cousin without her--would be wounding to her.

Yet it was the only way he knew to keep her safe.

"Good eve, my lady. You will let Robina know if you need anything?"

"I can see Alina?"

"Yes."

As he shut the door behind him, he knew he could not shut out the forlorn expression on her face.

Lachlan sat next to his brother at the head of the table. Though supper was long over, everyone lingered, as they sought comfort in their numbers.

Drink flowed. Gloom turned to boasting. The Campbell's capture and the possibility of a siege was both heady and sobering. Laughter was louder than usual. War was an adventure, the rightful pastime of warriors, but this time they would be going against a king's favorite and mayhap the king himself.

The hall was far more crowded than usual. The women from the outlying villages sat quietly, their eyes worried and their voices silent.

In truth, Rory would have liked being anywhere else, but he knew it was important that he give the image of confidence, particularly when all the keep learned of the Campbell's escape and they would soon learn of Lachlan's betrayal in the morning.

Had he spun a web that could entrap even the spider?

Lachlan was quiet, no doubt thinking about the evening ahead.

Rory turned to him. "You are sure about this?"

"Aye."

"You will come to me if you need anything. I will be telling Douglas after you are gone, and swear him to secrecy. Someone other than myself should know."

Lachlan nodded.

Rory returned to his food but he could not eat. He was gambling with at least three lives, perhaps more.

"Visit the lass," he said finally. "Take her down to see the filly."

Lachlan looked surprised at the change of subject. "May I ask why?"

"I suspect she feels very much alone."

"You could take her," Lachlan said.

"I believe she would prefer you."

Lachlan shook his head. "I do not think so, brother, but I will do as you ask." His expression said he suspected the real reason, that Rory no longer trusted himself with their bonny guest.

"Then report to my chamber."

Lachlan took a sip of wine and gave Rory a wry grin. "Of course, my lord."

Felicia nibbled at her meal, long grown cold. She did not really understand why she could not sup with her cousin, or with the Maclean clan in the great hall. Was it because she was a Campbell? Did everyone know her true identity now? She felt like a leper.

She finished, then opened the door. A Maclean stood outside.

"I would like to see Alina," she said.

The clansman nodded, and she walked to the next chamber. Alina looked up as she entered and struggled to sit. A smile spread across her pale face. "My lady."

The smile lit Felicia's gray mood. She sat down and reached for the girl's hand. "Can I get you anything?"

"Mum was just here with soup."

Felicia looked at the table next to the bed. A bowl of soup sat there with bread and water. "Can I help you eat it?"

"Ye, my lady?"

"I would very much like to."

Alina's shy smile stretched wider. "I was laying here thinking about it, but--"

Felicia picked up the bowl and spoon and brought it to Alina's lips. The lass swallowed it. Felicia continued until the soup was gone, and Alina had consumed the bread.

"I can tell you are better," Felicia said.

"Thanks to ye," Alina said. "Ye have been so kind."

"I like you. Very much," Felicia said. "Would you like a story?"

"Aye."