She frowned, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You like Caroline?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

She looked away, gaze fixed on the tower. "Well... she's a Graham-"

"No, she's a Maxwell, remember? She married my brother."

She seemed slightly put out by his interruption and continued as if he hadn't spoken. "And she's so very perfect. She never does or says anything wrong. She never gets upset. Many men find it... unconscionable that a woman be so... well, so like a man."

"Luckily Robert doesn't. Me either, though I confess, she took some getting used to. I dinna think Patrick would mind, either."

She fell silent. As he watched her, he began contemplating things he shouldn't. She was to marry another man. Even if she wasn't, she would never marry him. And Alex didn't go about debauching virgins he had no intention of honoring, a fact that led to his having little experience beyond a few friendly widows. And Diana Carlisle. But then, he'd meant to marry her, not simply debauch her, though he suspected he'd not been the first to plow those fields.

He reminded himself that, at one time, he had meant to ravish Fayth as punishment. The idea still had merit. d.a.m.n it all! He must stop thinking about her. She had no idea how he seduced her in his mind, constantly. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to think of other things.

He cleared his throat. "Uh... Ridley, you were telling me his plans."

"Oh... as far as King Henry is concerned, war with Scotland is inevitable. But Ridley is taking no chances. He's doing all he can to provoke the Scots. If there's a war, he means to distinguish himself in battle and take many prestigious prisoners. He's counting on these prisoners turning themselves over to him, because he is ally or kin. When King Henry annexes Scotland, he will be awarded their lands."

"If the English win, perhaps the lords will swear fealty to Henry. Then they keep their lands."

"The Scots can't possibly win a war against England," she said, a note of condescension in her voice. "You haven't the men, the resources, or the discipline."

"Scots are the fiercest of fighters-"

"When protecting their stolen goods, but fighting for a common cause? An idea?" She snorted. "Never."

"We'll fight to keep out the English."

"Really? I happen to know of several Scots clans that would welcome the English with open arms. Besides, you haven't won a battle against the English since Bannockburn."

"What about Hadden Rigg? That was but a month ago and we routed the English, taking many prisoners."

"A failed raid. Nothing more."

"Oh, I can see now why you thought you could best me, la.s.s, as the Scots are gutless simpletons. I'm amazed we manage to feed and clothe ourselves."

She laughed, the tension draining from the set of her shoulders. "I didn't mean that. I'm sure if the Scots army was made up of naught but Annan Maxwells, you couldn't lose. But it's not. It's made up of Armstrongs and Carlisles-"

"Aye, and Johnstones. I see what you mean. It's unlikely the Armstrongs will even fight, mind ye. They're like carrion. They'll pick over the battlefield when it's over, never lifting their sword arm."

"That's what Ridley is counting on."

Alex sighed. "Aye, and many borderers will switch loyalties if it's advantageous to do so."

"Well... as Ridley's prisoners, it won't be. If they swear fealty, the king will likely restore their lands and t.i.tles. I think Ridley means to kill those who agree to swear fealty so that won't happen. Then he will control the entire firth and the western road into Scotland, as well as the traffic between Scotland and northern Ireland."

"An ambitious plan."

"Ridley is nothing if not ambitious."

She blinked up at him, eyes clear and earnest. "You will tell your brother, Lord Annan, this? Perhaps if he knows, he can save himself and Caroline."

Alex was strangely touched by her concern for her sister and warmed that she trusted him as the messenger of such sensitive intelligence.

"I will."

She looked away, jaw tight. "I also hope this information helps you defend yourself against Ridley... I owe you for saving my life; this seems meager payment."

Her trust was the most precious gift he'd ever received but he couldn't say that, so he just nodded his thanks and continued on in strained silence. They reached the thick wall surrounding the tower, an impressive greeting to the keep. He'd repaired the crumbling wall and gatehouse to its former splendor. The gate was open and the guards cheered at his return. The tower lay before them, its defects glaringly obvious. Alex resisted the urge to make excuses for the keep, to point out the repairs he'd already made, and lay out his plans for more. In the interests of defense, he'd made the wall a priority. Now that it was finished, the keep would soon be just as fine. He wouldn't apologize for what couldn't be helped.

He dismounted and held up his arms to help Fayth down from her pony. She hesitated and he waited for her curt reminder that she could dismount without his aid. But then she surprised him by sliding into his waiting arms. He wanted to hold her against him, but people were watching and she was his prisoner. She could stand and walk without aid, so he turned, offering his arm.

She leaned heavily on it as he led her across the courtyard. "Are you planning to send me back to Carlisle soon?"

His step faltered. "Aye, I'll be writing him with the terms of the ransom."

She stopped to stare up at the keep. It stood four stories, with a cellar. He had repaired the roof, but the stone crumbled in many places, and what was once a small chapel was now a blackened sh.e.l.l. The strong new boards of the stables were a stark contrast to the dark and rotting wood of the older buildings. His beasts were confined in crude pens, but they were healthy and plentiful, as were his people.

"So..." she said, her gaze sweeping across the bailey, taking it all in. "This, in exchange for me?"

The flush of his skin deepened. He nodded, knowing what she must think. That he thought her life and her future were worth less to him than a run-down pile of stones. But Carlisle was a good match for her. A worthy match for her.

"I think..." she said slowly, sadly, "you're getting the better end of the deal."

He frowned down at her.

She smiled apologetically. "But Carlisle knows that. He won't trade."

His throat had gone dry. He forced himself to swallow. She started forward, tugging slightly on his arm. He began to walk again, her words ringing through his mind. Carlisle not trade? He'd considered it but thought it unlikely. An alliance with the Grahams was extremely lucrative for Carlisle. Even if he thought it an uneven trade, Ridley, as Fayth's brother, would surely seek to even the score, make it worth Carlisle's while, to see his sister out of the hands of a scoundrel and married proper, if for no other reason than to seal the alliance. And Alex was still prepared to compensate Carlisle. How could he refuse?

Alex suffered through the greetings of his small staff, consisting of a steward, a cook, and their wives and children. They all stared at Fayth openly. They had antic.i.p.ated a hostage, though they'd expected her to be dripping in silks and jewels. The cook's wife, Wynda, took Fayth's hand gently, patting it.

"Ye puir dear. Come wi' me. I've a room readied and clean clothes."

But Alex wouldn't relinquish her arm. Both Fayth and Wynda looked up at him curiously.

"I'll show her to her room," Alex said, leading her to the stairs at the back of the hall. "Send a bath up for Mistress Graham."

Wynda stared at him incredulously, hands on her ample hips. "A bath? Up?"

Alex hesitated. When baths were taken at all, they were done in the kitchens, so hot water did not have to be hauled far.

"I'll bathe as everyone else does," Fayth said, smiling at Wynda graciously.

"Gude," Wynda said. When she met Alex's scowl, she rolled her eyes. "I'll shoo the men oot and stay meself to help her, aye? Does that please ye, me lord?"

"Very well," Alex said, leading Fayth up the stairs.