“This is true,” she said, taking up her glass of wine as well.
“What did ye want to speak to me about?” he said, changing the subject.
Her cheeks colored and she looked away. “Ah, aye, ’tis about tomorrow. I have a plan.”
Fourteen
Fiona’s plan took them across the loch on a ferry to Skye just after dawn. There were a few others who loaded their horses and wagons, mostly farmers and merchants trying to sell their wares. No one paid them much attention, and their small band of eight kept quiet, even Milla who trotted around investigating those onboard and making friends with the ferry captain’s own hound.
Once they disembarked from the ferry, they made their way north toward Dunvegan Castle where Sorley resided with his wife Kenna, niece of Chief MacLeod.
The massive stone fortress was built on solid rock and overlooked a loch and the mountains beyond. As they’d approached, they’d seen the towers jutting powerfully into the sky. When they arrived, the gates were opened automatically. Kenna and the chief waited for them in the bailey as though they’d been expecting them, which they probably were.
Kenna threw herself into her husband’s arms, and the way they embraced left a solid ache in Fiona’s chest. She tried not to look at Brogan, not wanting him or anyone else to see how very much she wanted the same thing, for surely it had to be written all over her face.
Brogan approached Chief MacLeod and introduced himself along with the rest of them. When he named her his wife and no one blinked an eye, her belly fluttered. They’d not yet found a priest but that didn’t seem to matter. She liked the way his eyes softened when he said wife. It’d been days since she’d pressed her body to his, felt his mouth on hers. And she found herself longing for his touch.
Finally, Kenna and Sorley broke apart long enough for Sorley to beam at his newfound family and say, “I’d like to introduce ye to my wife.” He led her forward. “Kenna, these are the brave souls who’ve been keeping me alive these past months.”
Kenna greeted Fiona first, gripping her hands and then tugging her in for a hug. “I know who ye are,” she whispered. “And I’m most pleased to meet ye.”
Fiona suspected the messenger announcing their arrival was the one to explain who she was, but it didn’t matter. She felt herself growing heated in the cheeks. “Ye’re wed to a wonderful man and a brave soldier.”
Kenna peeked over Fiona’s shoulder toward Sorley. “Aye. He is a keeper.” She giggled as though she’d not been wed to him for over two years, and then her face turned more serious. “Come inside. We’ve got a hot meal prepared for ye, and we want to hear all of the news.”
The rest of the day flew by as they each relayed stories of what had happened on Culloden battlefield and in the weeks following. Kenna insisted on sitting beside Fiona, and for once Fiona felt as though she’d made a fast friend, not something that was easy for her. Kenna didn’t care that she’d been traipsing about Scotland, that she’d been instrumental in the rebel cause, or any of that. And Fiona shouldn’t have been surprised. But she was. For it was not often that a woman other than Jenny and Annie accepted her for who she was.
Kenna leaned in closed and whispered, “When this is over, we’ll have to catch up and share stories. I’ve no’ met another woman with a rebel heart as fierce as my own until now.”
Fiona beamed at Kenna. Another rebel heart? Fascinating. “Indeed, we shall.”
The night swiftly came, and Fiona found herself trying not to fall asleep where she stood watching the men dance. She quietly excused herself and with Milla in tow found the bedchamber that had been given to her and Brogan for their stay.
He was not far behind her, slipping under the covers, the warmth of his body reaching out to hers, wakening her briefly. Though they’d barely spoken, the comfort of having him beside her was a balm. Fiona rolled over to face him, seeing the light of the moon shine through the slim window in a shaft of silver over his face.
“Hello,” she whispered sleepily.
Brogan leaned in, his forehead pressed to hers. “I’m sorry I woke ye. Go back to sleep, angel.” His lips brushed her forehead, and she closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his breath on her skin.
Fiona wanted to talk to him about what had happened with the letters and opened her mouth to do so, but then Brogan let out a soft snore, already having fallen into a deep sleep.
When she woke in the morning, he was gone but the warmth of him lingered. She dressed quickly and made her way downstairs.
Brogan was in the great hall with the other men, finishing their porridge. Fiona joined them all, savoring the warm breakfast.
“Are ye ready?” he asked when they’d finished.
“More than ready.” Today their plan would go into full effect, and hopefully they would soon be in the prince’s contingency.
Using Dunvegan as a base, and knowing each day they set out that they might not return, they began several weeks of reconnaissance. Riding out to the various points in the isle each day, they made friends with those at every port and traced the prince’s contacts throughout Skye.
Fiona sent messages to the Outer Hebrides through her connections in hopes they would reach the prince and orders could be delivered back to her.
All the while, she attempted to talk to Brogan about Aes, a topic they’d yet to broach and which still seemed to be a barrier between them. However, he brushed her off each time she started. Neither did they have any more heated sensual moments together. But that didn’t mean that Fiona didn’t think of Brogan every night when she laid her head to rest beside his. That didn’t mean she didn’t think about reaching out.
Didn’t mean she didn’t think about kissing him. Tugging him against her and telling him this was all nonsense.
She knew why he was pushing her away, and it was totally her fault. When she’d been reading her letters from Aes, Jenny, and Annie, she’d been living in the past when things seemed brighter, and with every day that passed now she wondered more and more why she was chasing a prince who didn’t seem to have the backbone to take charge. Brogan had seen a happier letter from Aes, one filled with compliments, and she could see where he might think she was pining for another man.
When she’d gone down to dinner that night at the tavern, she should have put the letters away but she’d been too tired—lazy, really—and then she’d forgotten about them until she’d felt them crinkle beneath her back. Seeing Brogan’s face when he’d read Aes’s name was enough to make her heart break. He’d looked devastated. Embarrassed almost. And then he’d been nothing but business ever since, save for a few tender moments in which he’d seemed to forget.
He still slept beside her each night, the heat of his body filling the mattress and cocooning her in a cloud of safety. But he didn’t try to hold her, kiss her.