Love in the Time of a Highland Laird (A Laird for All Time Book 3) by Angeline Fortin (bill gates books to read .TXT) 📕

words were being torn from his soul, this man who claimed to have no political ties. Clearly, he cared for his clansmen and his countrymen deeply.

“They must be stopped,” he said. “The king has got tae ken what is happening.”

She rushed to his side, slipping her hand into his. He squeezed it hard. “Is there anything that can be done?” she asked Mathilde.

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “But in all honesty, my husband believes no one beyond Cumberland and a few others are aware of the identities of the higher ranking lairds being held. Hawick recognized your father straight away, of course. Uncle Camran told him of the others.”

“Yet he supports this?” Keir asked. “He willnae raise a hand tae stop it?”

Mathilde shook her head once more. “No. You know he has always supported the unification of Scotland and England. He might not agree with Cumberland’s methods, but he stands with him in making an example to dissuade others from rising against King George in the future.”

His sharpened gaze slid to Al. “Is this how it will be then? Do ye lie tae me aboot this as well?”

As if anything she might have known of the future mattered at all in this reality. For all she knew now, the Highlanders were truly lost for all time. Everything she knew of their evolvement over the past three hundred years might not ever happen. Yet it might. So what purpose would it serve to tell him that now? Any more than admitting to what she’d withheld from the previous night would?

No, some lies were for his own good. He needed to believe there was a future for him. She couldn’t let him down. But neither could she say anything about it in front of Mathilde who was already eyeing them keenly. So, she shook her head infinitesimally, hoping it would be enough.

His shoulders sagged slightly. “But there was nothing of this?” he pressed.

Biting her lip, she shot another glance at Mathilde. “No.”

“What is this?” his perceptive cousin asked. “Are you a soothsayer, Miss Maines? Do you know the future?”

Now that would have made an excellent excuse. Hokey, yes. But decent enough. But Keir didn’t give her a chance to jump on it. “’Tis naught, Mathilde, merely a conversation on a different subject. She’s merely a lass wi’oot a home right now.”

Mathilde shrugged. “Too bad. There’s more than one thing I’d like to know of my future.”

“I certainly can’t help with that,” Al said honestly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry yourself, Miss Maines,” the woman said. “What we do need to worry about is seeing dear Uncle Camran set free.”

“But how?”

“Nae,” he said. “The greater question is what tae do wi’ him after he’s freed. Will Cumberland admit who he’d taken prisoner and hope for the support of the king in recapturing him? Hound him for the rest of his days? Or will he let it go? I’d wager on the former.”

“It’ll all be moot if he’s taken to Carlisle, Keir,” Mathilde pointed out. “I came here on my own, opposing my husband so you might have a chance to save your father from sure death. Because that is what awaits him. I overheard Cumberland telling Hawick last night that he will see the prisoners each hanged, disemboweled on the block, and beheaded before their viscera is thrown to the flames.”

Al grimaced at the bloody image.

“Is that the fate you want for your father?” Mathilde pressed.

“Nay,” he said, then stronger. “Nay. I willnae stand for it. Nae just Father but any of them. I’ll bluidy well see them all freed and face the Butcher myself for what he’s done tae my clan. Tae Frang.”

Fear skittered through Al. His conviction was strong, undeniable. But she couldn’t stand the idea of him getting hurt, possibly killed.

“I’m glad to hear my efforts in reaching you weren’t in vain,” Mathilde said with a satisfied smile. “The real question will be in how to release them.”

“Aye, that might be a problem.”

Silence fell over them. Evidently the problem was obvious to the two of them but she had no idea what might impede them. “Why?”

“Canongate is the largest tolbooth in Edinburgh. A prison, lass,” he told her. “The most heavily guarded.”

Flipping through the atlas still sitting on the table from last night, he opened the book to a map of Edinburgh and showed it to her, pointing to a building right on the Royal Mile near Holyrood. Granted the map didn’t show Edinburgh to be as large as she knew it was in her time, but the thing was smack dab in the middle of it.

“‘Tis a fortress centuries old. Four stories wi’ a single entry kept locked at all times wi’ even the guards sealed wi’in. Our only saving grace would be that it is nae far from the edge of the city if we approach from the south around the Salisbury Crag’s and Arthur’s Seat.”

He shot a sharp glance at his cousin. “Do ye ken how heavily it is guarded now?”

“In addition to the regular city patrol, there is a platoon of Cumberland’s dragoons camped in the square behind the Canongate Kirk.”

Both winced. Al wondered how big a platoon was.

“You can gather the men to take the camp,” Mathilde said quietly. “I know you and Hugh had connections everywhere for all you practically lived abroad. You know enough men to do it.”

“Aye, honest men I can trust.” Keir examined the map, scratching his jaw. “Och, the guards are nae the problem. ‘Tis the bluidy jail itself. The cells wi’in present nae problem. There will be nae more than a dozen guards inside. All will hae keys. Any one will open all the cell doors. Nay, ‘tis the main door. ‘Twill be but one man carrying that key and he’ll be inside.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “One door? One exit? And only one key? That’s an awful safety hazard.”

Mathilde appeared interested about her phrasing but he wouldn’t allow her a breath to ask. “Tis why it’s so secure a