her. You’ll only make things worse if you go back to Beaux—Dunkeathe.”
Adair’s impatience was getting difficult to control. “Did I say I was going to Dunkeathe?”
“If you’re not, there’s no reason I shouldn’t go riding with you. I could use the practice. You’re always telling me I sit my horse like a bag of stones.”
Adair bit back another retort, because he recognized the look in Lachlann’s eyes; the lad wasn’t going to give up. So he had two choices: lie, or be honest.
“All right, Lachlann, you’ve caught me,” he said, spreading his hands. “I want to ride to Dunkeathe—but just to get a look at Lady Marianne. If I can find proof she’s being forced to marry, that’ll surely convince Father to go to the king. Father hates to see a woman being used against her will as much as I.”
Lachlann regarded Adair doubtfully. “How do you intend to get into the castle? You can’t ride up and announce your intentions to Sir Nicholas.”
“I’ll sneak in.”
“Let’s say you succeed in getting into the castle. How will you know what’s passing between the lady and her brother, or if she objects?”
“I’ll find out somehow.”
“Hamish Mac Glogan is rich and has influence with Alexander. Maybe she thinks those things outweigh Mac Glogan’s faults.”
“She’s not a gomeral, and only a gomeral would think anything outweighs that old villain’s faults.” Adair’s voice hardened, like his resolve the moment he’d decided what he had to do. “You aren’t going to try to stop me, are you, Lachlann?”
His brother shook his head. “Much as I’d like to, you’d only go another time. And as you say, if she’s being forced, that’s a good reason for our father to go to the king and try to stop the marriage. So perhaps there’s no harm in a wee visit to Dunkeathe—but you have to let me go, too. You need somebody with you who can keep a cool head.”
Adair realized he had little choice but to agree, or he would have to waste even more time arguing, and he’d wasted too much already. “Hurry up, then, and saddle your horse.”
Lachlann didn’t move. “Are you planning to go dressed like that? You’ll be a tad kenspeckle in your feileadh. Should you not make an effort at disguise?”
“Losh, you’re right,” Adair muttered, looking down at his clothes.
“I’ll fetch some other garments while you saddle my horse,” Lachlann said, turning to go.
Adair beat him to the door. He didn’t want to risk Lachlann revealing their intentions, if only by accident. “I’ll fetch the clothes.”
Lachlann raised a skeptical brow. “And what will you say you want them for?”
“What excuse will you be giving?” Adair countered.
“I’ll think of something, and I’m a better liar.”
That was true. Lachlann could lie as cool as you please. “Go, then, and be quick about it. I’ll have your horse ready by the time you get back. If you meet anyone, tell them we’re going to the south meadow.”
“Aye, I remember,” Lachlann said. His hand on the latch, he turned back and flashed a grin at his elder brother. “I’m no gomeral, either, Adair.”
“THERE’S OUR CHANCE,” Adair whispered as he peered out of an alley between a tavern and the village smithy outside the castle walls of Dunkeathe.
Coming from the nearby wood, a group of laborers walked past. They were carrying bundles of long poles, probably intended for scaffolding in the castle.
“We’ll get ourselves a bundle and walk in, easy as you please.”
Dressed like Adair in tunic, breeches and short cloak, with a hood pulled up over his head and his dirk hidden in his boot, Lachlann didn’t look convinced. “Will the guards not realize we’re—?”
“They’re not even looking at the poor sods. Keep your head bowed and look humble and they’ll take no notice, the arrogant oafs. Come on.”
Planning to circle around to the wood where they’d left their horses, Adair started back toward the other end of the alley. “Hurry up, Lachlann!”
Lachlann quickened his pace, and soon they reached the clearing where other laborers stacked the bundles and tied them with short pieces of rope.
Adair waited until a group of men returning from the castle drew near. Then he hurried out of the trees and took his place at the back of the line, Lachlann behind him.
With a grunt, he hoisted a bundle onto his shoulder. The sticks were heavier than they looked, or the laborers were stronger than he’d assumed. Regardless, he started to head to the castle, pausing for a moment to glance back at his brother.
Lachlann took two tries to get his bundle on his shoulder. When he finally did, he staggered under its weight, drawing the attention of the woodcutters.
Maybe this wasn’t such a clever plan after all.
“Too much ale this morning,” Lachlann slurred, belching, sounding so much like a Yorkshireman, Adair could scarcely believe his ears. “I hope that Norman pays well, or I’ve come a long way for nowt.”
The woodsmen laughed and went back to their work, leaving Lachlann to stumble on his way. Adair slowed his steps, letting the other men get farther ahead, and easing the pace for Lachlann.
“Where did you learn to talk like that?” Adair asked in a whisper when Lachlann caught up to him.
“Listening,” Lachlann replied, panting. “I pay attention to people, and not just the bonnie lasses.”
“You always were the watchful one. If your load’s too heavy for you, I’ll take it and go myself.”
“I’ll manage.”
“If you drop it, the guards might get curious,” Adair warned. “Unless you want to cause a stramash, set that bundle on my other shoulder, go to the tavern and wait for me there.”
“You can’t carry both.”
“I can. Do as I say. I won’t be long.”
Lachlann didn’t immediately agree.
“If I’m not able to see her, you might hear news of her in the tavern.”
Lachlann sighed, then hefted his bundle onto Adair’s other shoulder. It took a moment for Adair to get the balance right, but once he did, he was satisfied he’d make it into the castle’s courtyard without arousing suspicion or undue attention. “Wait until the sun’s about a foot above the castle walls. If I’m not back by then, head for the horses. If I’m not there, go home and tell Father he may have to come and get me out of Sir Nicholas’s dungeon.”
“Losh, Adair, be careful, or there’ll be hell
