Loving Her Highland Enemy by Samantha Holt (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📕

was over, he would claim Leana as his, and the strife between the clans would be truly over.

Chapter Eleven

Maggie bundled into the chambers, shoving the door shut behind her as though she were being chased by a wolf.

“What’s the matter?” Leana asked.

Maggie sucked down a breath. “The matter? Ye should tell me. Tavish has told me to ensure ye dinnae leave the room.”

“Aye.” Leana wrapped her arms about herself. She didn’t much like the idea either. Her stomach tightened at the thought of Tavish out there, alone, with his uncle. He might not be wholly convinced of his guilt, but she knew, without doubt, it had been him at the fire. She just wished she had realized it sooner.

“I know who the traitor is,” Leana told Maggie.

“Oh Lordy.”

“Aye.”

“So Tavish is off to confront him?”

“Something like that.” Leana peered out of the window, paced to the fireplace, then headed back to stare out at the darkened castle walls once more. “I have an uneasy feeling, Maggie. Something is going to happen.”

“Tavish is a strong man. Ye dinnae have to fear for him.”

Leana chewed on her bottom lip. “But ‘tis his uncle, Maggie. What if he persuades Tavish that it isnae him who is the cause of all this strife?” She glanced at the maid.

Maggie pressed a hand to her chest. “His uncle? Oh, goodness.”

“Aye,” Leana said grimly.

“He trusts ye, that much I can tell.”

Leana eyed the darkness, peering up at the men patrolling the walls, then down into the shadows of the bailey. Movement caught her eye and her chest tightened. Someone was headed toward the laird’s chambers and she had a good suspicion who.

“I have to get out of this room.” She pivoted but Maggie blocked her way. “Maggie, Tavish and his father could be in danger.”

“Tavish ordered me to ensure ye stayed.”

“Tavish is no’ in charge of me. Or ye.”

“But it could be dangerous.” Maggie wrung her hands together.

“Maggie, pray,” she begged. “I need to get to Tavish and warn him.” She retrieved a dagger from the chest of clothes and tucked it into the pocket of her kirtle.

Maggie eyed her for several moments then her shoulders sagged. “Very well, but there’s a big brute of a lad guarding the room.” She thrust a thumb toward the door.

“Ye can distract him.” Leana gripped Maggie’s arms. “Then I’ll slip past.”

She shook her head and sighed. “Ye dinnae get yerself into danger or I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Leana vowed.

Maggie drew in a long breath, her chest puffing up. Then she tugged open the door and dashed outside, wailing. Leana chuckled to herself and peered out of the open door to see Maggie had flung herself into the man’s arms.

“Oh ‘tis just too terrible,” Maggie wailed. “First the laird, now mayhap my lady is in danger. Whatever shall I do?”

“Well, um...” The man tried to ease Maggie to her feet and release her, but she sagged against him as soon as he attempted to right her.

Leana slipped past, catching Maggie’s eye and mouthing her thanks, then hastened out into the frigid air. She darted through the darkness toward the laird’s chambers, coming to a halt when she spotted him.

Tavish’s uncle.

He stilled too, his gaze clashing with hers. Her breath caught. The torch light on the wall lit one side of his face. There was no doubting it. He had been the man she had seen. No wonder he wanted her dead. As the only survivor of the fire, she was the only one with a chance of identifying him. Ensuring she was gone meant no one was alive who could reveal him and he could also blame her for harming the laird. What better person to blame than a Sinclair?

A smile slipped across his lips as he approached. Her throat dried and she tightened her muscles so he could not see her tremble.

“Leana, I have no’ seen ye for two days. I thought mayhap ye had tired of our hospitality and returned home.”

“Tavish feared with a traitor in our midst that I might be in some danger.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze head on. “He had me confined to my room.”

“Did he? And why would he think ye might be in danger when ‘tis my brother who has been harmed?” He pressed his lips together. “Odd that he should come to harm when a Sinclair is visiting, is it no’?”

“‘Tis odd timing,” she agreed, refusing to glance away.

He looked to the chamber door, then back to her. “I should see to my brother,” he finally said. “He was lucky to escape with his life. Mayhap ye should like to visit him too. I should be happy to—”

“I should return to my chambers.” She affected a meek look, dropping her gaze to her feet. There was no chance she was letting this man take her anywhere. Nor did she intend to return to her chambers.

“Indeed. That sounds safest for everyone.” His voice dripped with unspoken bile.

Lord, how she wanted to wipe that patronizing look from his face. How she wanted to tug the dagger she had secreted in her plaid out and lunge at him. But if she killed him here and now, she would never get her answer, and no one would believe her that their enemy was the beloved brother of the laird.

She ducked her head and pivoted on the snowy ground, too aware of his gaze upon her back. Leana had wagered he wouldn’t harm her with patrols around, but she couldn’t be certain of that. She only let herself relax once she had tucked herself into the shadows of the castle.

Pressing her back against the cold stone, she gathered her breaths and peered around the edge of the wall. Where was Tavish? She scoured the castle walls, but it was hard to tell who was who in the darkness that consumed the keep. If he was already with his father, then the laird would be safe.

Hopefully.

If he was