Twelve

 

Something was wrong.

Shannon didn’t know how she knew it, only that she sensed it the moment she stepped on the main floor. The sounds of the morning meal were muted. She was not used to being greeted warmly, but somehow she had missed the fact that the McLerens had taken to her better in the last two weeks. She noticed today because many of them stared at their meals instead of looking at her when she entered the great hall.

“Cursed McBoyd.”

The cause of the tension announced himself with a loud snort. Still wearing the dust from the road and their swords across their backs, these men wore the McLeren colors, but they ate only with one another.

“Why is this filth allowed in the hall?”

Shannon stared at the man insulting her. He looked a great deal like Torin, with the same features and strength, and yet she found him unpleasing. His face lacked anything she might consider attractive, because of the hate twisting his lips. He spit on the floor in front of her.

“Someone bind this traitor up as she deserves.”

Shannon felt the blood drain from her face, but she lifted her chin, refusing to show her fear.

Where was Torin?

“She has been given the freedom of the tower by the laird.” Brockton stood up, squaring his shoulders.

“Well, me cousin is nae here, so that makes my word law.”

Snickers rose from the newcomers, and the sound sent a chill down her back.

“The laird’s order stands. Just because he is no’ here does nae mean his word is nae to be followed.” Brockton refused to budge, even when Torin’s kin advanced on him.

“Unless he manages to get himself killed, and then it will be me who is laird. Best remember who is set to inherit here, laddie, because I’ll be recalling who cannae tell a traitor just because she happens to have a pair of tits.” Torin’s kin turned his attention toward her. “I’m Lundy McLeren, and don’t think that I’m impressed with ye because ye warm me cousin’s cock.” He reached down and pulled a dirk from the top of his boot and sneered at her.

“In fact, I think I might just do me cousin the favor of slitting yer throat, since the man seems to lack the courage to do it.”

The hall erupted into madness. Shannon didn’t have time to become scared. Someone pulled her backward with enough force to see her feet sliding right across the floor without her moving a single muscle. Brockton barreled toward Lundy, clamping both hands around the one holding the dirk. Benches overturned and platters hit the floor, spilling their contents. Shannon lost sight of it in the mayhem as Torin’s men pushed her behind them. They crowded in front of her, their wide shoulders making it impossible to see what was happening between Lundy and Brockton.

“Come with me, lass.”

Shannon wasn’t given a choice. Baeth grabbed her wrist with more strength than the woman looked like she had in her aged body. But it was Quinton Cameron who lifted her clean off her feet and placed her behind him. He blocked out her ability to see past him, and his men quickly moved her farther back so that they stood at their laird’s back.

“Enough!” Quinton’s voice bounced off the walls, and the shouting died down in response. “Lundy, ye are a pitiful man to pull a dirk on a woman.”

“How dare ye insult me?” Lundy’s voice rose in pitch until it sounded like a child’s.

Quinton folded his arms across his chest. “How dare you pit McLeren against McLeren. The English do like to say that we Highlanders are uncivilized, but I, for one, do nae appreciate yer proving them correct.”

Laughter echoed around the hall. It seemed to cut through the tension, and she heard the benches being righted.

“Enough! Do ye hear me? She is the daughter of a traitor! The only thing yer words are doing is making me even more sure that she needs to die before she follows her father’s example and kills my cousin while he’s sleeping like a besotted fool beside her.”

“Shannon would nae do such a thing,” Brockton snarled at Lundy. “And my laird is no fool when it comes to judging those he allows near.”

“My blood is better than yers.”

Lundy was furious. Rage colored his face scarlet, and he shook with it. Brockton still refused to move from the man’s path, standing between the Cameron and Lundy. Baeth was still gripping Shannon’s arm, and she began to pull her backward while Lundy screeched.

The Cameron lifted one finger and pointed at Baeth. “She stays with the Cameron since Torin is riding with the Douglas. There will be no blood flowing in this hall while Torin is away. I’m promising ye, Lundy, try it and I’ll be the man who sets ye down, blue blood or nae.”

“She is a traitor, and I’m here to take her to Archibald Douglas.” Lundy seemed set on spilling her blood, and Shannon found herself disgusted by the man.

The Cameron shook his head. “Ye seem to be having troubling recalling that we were told to bring the girl to him alive.”

Lundy spit on the floor once more, his eyes bright with rage.

Quinton stepped forward. “Or didn’t ye think that I also received a message from the lieutenant general?” He reached inside his shirt and withdrew a letter. “He’s wanted to see the girl… alive.”

“She is a McBoyd. Scotland does nae need their like. I wager that the Earl of Douglas would be happy to have us do the deed for him. But if ye want the chore of taking her to the new lieutenant general, ye are welcome to it. I’ll no’ be wasting food on a traitor. I’d like to slit her throat before she whelps another disloyal subject for the king to suffer.”

“Ye are letting yer own agenda cloud yer thinking.”

“I will nae have her giving my cousin a son with her tainted blood flowing through his veins.”

The Cameron snorted. “Enough, Lundy. Ye have no right to try and make sure yer cousin remains childless. She’s going to Holyrood alive. I’ve given my word on it, so that is what will be.”

Lundy snarled something in Gaelic, but there were more Camerons in the hall. They clustered around their leader.

“I will nae be forgetting this, Quinton Cameron.”

“Neither will I.” There was a wealth of meaning in those words.

Quinton turned his back on Lundy and pointed Shannon toward the doors behind her. There was a clear warning in his eyes, but Shannon felt Baeth pulling on her arm too. There wasn’t really any choice, except in the manner in which she would be leaving the hall. If she refused, she would be carried away.

Still, part of her wanted to hesitate, because she had learned to love being inside the tower. Leaving it was as bitter as she had feared it would be. But her time was spent, just as she knew it would be, and there was nothing to do but face the justice her father’s actions demanded.

She’d do it with courage, so she turned and walked toward the yard.

The morning was brisk, but the sun was quickly burning it away. Shannon shivered without an arisaid to cut the chill. Or maybe she shivered because of the number of horses in the yard. There were nearly a hundred between Lundy’s McLerens plaids and Cameron’s colors. The men stared at each other, their clan loyalty strong and fierce. It wouldn’t take much to spark a fight. It was suddenly clear why Lundy would think he’d be able to order her death; there were even numbers of his men and Cameron’s. With a child sitting on the throne, it looked as if the regent and lieutenant general didn’t trust anyone. That was the only reason both men would have been sent to fetch her.

“Do nae be worrying about Lundy, lass. I will nae be allowing him to harm ye.” Quinton Cameron considered her for a long moment. “Is it possible ye might be carrying Torin’s babe?”

Shannon drew herself up stiffly. “It is, but it is none of yer concern.”

He was amused by her tone, a slight flicker of admiration appearing in his eyes. But it died when Lundy spoke up behind him.

“The slut has been warming McLeren’s bed, even hung out a soiled sheet, from what I hear.” Lundy appeared with several of his men, and there wasn’t a kind look among them. “Obviously this McBoyd thinks to avoid justice by spreading her thighs.”

“The laird ordered the sheet flown.”

Baeth spoke up without hesitation. There was firm disapproval in her tone. She pointed at Lundy. “Take a good look at my face, for I want ye to remember it. I will nae be frightened into submission. The girl was pure, and the laird wanted to make sure everyone knew that he respects her.”

“Fine, then. She will die a respected traitor.” Lundy sneered at Baeth and made a motion toward her with one hand. Quinton Cameron stepped quickly between him and the head of the McLeren house.

“I have no argument that her father is a traitor, but a daughter has no say in what her father does. Ye will be saving yer accusations, Lundy. I’ll nae see the lass terrorized by yer threats.”

“It would take more than a blustering fool to frighten me.”

Quinton smiled once again, amused by her. Lundy wasn’t, and the man aimed a stare that was smoldering with hatred toward her.

“She needs to die. To wipe this threat to the king away forever.”

“Enough.” Cameron turned and lifted one hand. A portion of his men moved forward, one of them leading a powerful stallion.

“I said it before, Lundy. We were ordered to fetch the lass to Holyrood Palace, and that is all we were told to do.” He stepped up to his horse and fitted one foot into the stirrup. He didn’t linger but swung up onto the back of the animal with solid strength.

“She rides with my men because ye are far too eager to ensure ye inherit the McLeren title by making sure Torin remains childless. If he had a soiled sheet flown, that’s good enough for me. They are hand fasted, to my way of thinking. Torin will wed her soon enough, mark my words. It’s time he married, and that will settle this matter her father began so that it does nae become a feud. That is what we need, peace in the Highlands, nae another slit throat that will bring her kin marching to claim vengeance, and that will in turn see Torin having to repay that bloodletting. He’s a wise man to think to wed to avoid all that killing.”

Many men nodded in agreement, but Lundy became more enraged.

“The only thing that will satisfy me is the death of every McBoyd.”

“I do nae care, Lundy, do ye hear me? The lass rides with me, and that’s the end of it.”

“No, the lieutenant general will be the one deciding what the end of it is.” Lundy pointed a finger at her. “Ye will die with the rest of yer disloyal kin.”

“I will like it better than licking yer boots.” Maybe she should have remained silent. For certain her father would have raised his hand against her, in spite of her words being in his favor. Shannon didn’t care. A sound of approval rippled through the Camerons, but Lundy’s expression turned even darker.

“Lundy, man, that ambition is going to be yer downfall.”

Quinton Cameron spoke quietly, but his words still drifted to some of his men. They held their thoughts behind stony expressions, but their eyes darted between her and Lundy, missing nothing.

Quinton let out a short whistle, and a mare was brought around for her. Baeth grabbed her arm and thrust something toward her. It was a McLeren arisaid, still warm from the head of house’s body.

“Ye cannae go out onto the road without something to cut the chill. Take it, lass. There is no time for quibbles about the colors.”

“Thank you, Baeth.” Shannon didn’t argue but hugged the length of wool to her chest. It was more than an arisaid, it was a symbol to every soul watching that Baeth approved of her. That was something that might never be bought. “For every kindness ye have shown me.”

Baeth snorted. “Ye are worthy of them, and I will be waiting on yer return.”

Brockton pushed his way to the front of those clustered on the steps. With a firm hand, he steadied her mare and offered her a hand in gaining the saddle.

“Stay with the Camerons, mistress. Lundy is a greedy man. He’ll do exactly what he said in a moment if he gains the opportunity. Do nae give it to him.”

She was on the back of the horse before her brain truly registered what Brockton muttered to her. He kept his voice low, so that his words remained between them. Tension rose in her throat so thick it threatened to choke her. The feeling was remarkably similar to how she had felt the first time she stood at the foot of the stairs leading into the tower.

Quinton Cameron watched her and raised one hand up the moment she was holding the reins of her mare.

“Ride.”

He spoke the single word, and the men in the yard surged toward the gate in a rush of leather and hooves. Her mare followed without urging, and the Cameron men closed around her, making it impossible for any of Lundy’s men to ride near her. It was not a simple matter. Lundy’s men guided their horses too close, attempting to get the Cameron retainers to pull up, but they didn’t. Instead the entire mass of horses and men surged through the gate and onto the bridge. Shannon wasn’t given time to lament her departure from Donan Tower; she was swept along by the current of men.

She felt torn away from something that was dear. Pain raked across her heart, and she turned to look back at the place in which she had gotten to know the other side of her captor. The stark difference between Torin and Lundy made her want to retch. She was grateful that she had not broken her fast this morning, else she would have disgraced herself by emptying her stomach in the midst of so many.

They crossed the long bridge and made their way through the village without slowing down.

It would seem that fate was eager to claim another victim.

***

The Cameron laird didn’t call a halt until the horizon was a mere scarlet stain. His men dismounted and began to make camp quickly. Shannon sat for a moment watching Lundy search for her among the mass of men and horses. Even from the distance she could see a sneer curling his lips back.

“Allow me to help ye down, mistress.”

Quinton Cameron held up a hand to her, but the man also reached for the bridle and secured it in a firm hand. Shannon stared at his hand for a long moment before sliding down the side of the mare without placing her hand into his. She heard a soft snort from him before he handed off the mare to one of his men.

“I can see what Torin likes about ye.”

She doubted it but held her thoughts behind silence. Making an enemy of the only man standing between her and Lundy wasn’t a wise idea. Here on the road, her body might never be found, not that being discovered mattered if she were long dead. What comfort was there in knowing that her bones rested in church ground? The clergy might argue that her soul was more important, but at the moment she was more interested in remaining alive.

“But that stubbornness must nae encourage ye to leave my sight.” Quinton Cameron’s voice was edged in warning that she didn’t need to hear, because she felt it running down her neck and leaving the tiny hairs raised.

“Ye do nae seem to be allowing me any space to do so.”

Cameron raised one eyebrow. “Any man who thinks himself undefeatable will shortly find himself nursing his injured pride. In yer case, I doubt there will be any need for nursing. Lundy will slay ye if he gets the chance.”

Shannon lifted her chin. “I heard the man clear enough.”

“Good. I hope ye do nae make the mistake of thinking ye can outrun us.”

The warning flickering in his eyes annoyed her.

“Ye all seem to think that I am loath to travel to where this might all be settled.”

Cameron offered her a skeptical look. “Are ye saying ye are content with going to Holyrood?”

Shannon pulled the McLeren arisaid up to cover her chilled neck. “Let us simply say that I am loath to continue on with this waiting. I am nae a coward to hide behind an honorable man like Torin McLeren.”

“Torin is that, which is why I owe him the service of keeping Lundy from ye. If Torin took ye back to Donan Tower, I suspect there is a reason.”

For all that Quinton Cameron seemed to be looking at her, the man was also remarkably aware of his surroundings. He suddenly looked past her and nodded.

“You will be staying within my reach.”

He didn’t allow for any resistance to his command either. He reached out and grasped her upper arm in a grip that promised pain if she tried to refuse. His men had raised a simple tent while they spoke, only two poles driven into the ground with a length of canvas secured to the tops before being pulled down at an angle to the ground. Other such shelters were being erected around them as flint was struck to small piles of wood. Conversation was low and subdued, dying completely when Cameron passed by with her in tow.

“Ye’ll sleep in the back of my tent.”

“With ye?”

The space was small, no bigger than the bed she’d shared with Torin. Flaps fell down on either side to make the space private and keep out the elements.

“Aye. Ye may relieve yerself in back of those rocks, and ye have only a few moments of light left to do it. Once it’s dark, ye will be in the back of my tent, where I can be sure of where ye are.”

She snarled softly, biting back the words she wanted to use to argue with him, but her body urged her to wait until she’d tended to her personal needs first. Cameron didn’t look as though he were open to negotiating how much time she had.

She returned just as night had fallen completely. Quinton pointed toward the tent.

“Go on, do nae make me put ye in there. It’s the only solution that will ensure I complete my duty to see ye delivered to Archibald Douglas. Torin McLeren is a man I call friend. Ye’ll not have any trouble from me, only my protection from Lundy there.” Quinton Cameron suddenly winked at her. “I steal my own women.”

Shannon growled softly but sank to her knees so that she might crawl into the back of the tent. There was a length of canvas spread out to form a floor. It kept the dirt from soiling her but did little to cut the chill. Most of Cameron’s men had pulled their own tartans over their heads now too. Without the sun to warm them, the air grew cold. She went toward the far corner of the tent, seeking some space between her and the man guarding her. It forced her to lie down, but at least she gained what she wanted. Cameron was now separated from her by an arm’s length. The man’s back was wide and thick with muscle just as Torin’s was, but she was not drawn to him. Her gaze didn’t trace those shoulders with the same devotion that it did with Torin. It was very simple to look away. The man was talking to one of his retainers, ignoring her as easily.

But the moment she spread out, her belly growled low and long. He turned to look back toward her. Shannon frowned because she didn’t want him thinking about her needs.

He held out a small pouch and skin, turning to face her more.

“I am well enough.”

His eyes narrowed. “Ye are hungry, because I forgot to feed you. I suppose I’ll have to be learning to remember that when I get to stealing myself a woman.”

He winked at her, but Shannon frowned. “It is nae a good jest, that of stealing women.”

“Ye looked rather happy last night by Torin’s side, for a stolen woman.”

Her cheeks heated slightly. “I was happy.”

The pouch and skin landed near her head with a flick of his wrist. He turned his back on her once he had tossed them to resume talking to his captain. Their voices were low, and she only caught every other word, so she stopped trying to understand them. Her belly cramped and demanded she dispense with her pride. Where the mind might have been willing, the flesh still had needs. At least Cameron seemed willing to allow her to eat in private, or something close to it. His large body kept her out of sight for the most part. When she turned over and faced the end of the tent, she was able to relax her tight control over her expression. The low conversation drifting to her ears from Cameron gave her enough peace to keep her back turned to the rest of the group.

Inside the pouch was a small offering of nuts and dried meat. There were also hard baked biscuits in thin lengths like fingers. They were difficult to chew, but she had nothing else. The skin held water, and it was fresh and sweet, making the biscuits easier to swallow. For all their dryness, they filled her belly remarkably well. Once she drank from the skin, what she’d eaten felt like it was expanding inside her.

“I’ll be telling the Douglas about the sheet.”

Shannon gasped, choking on what was in her mouth. She forced it down before glaring back at Cameron. “That is between Torin and me. I never wanted him to fly that soiled gown.”

Cameron looked amused. “So it was a gown, was it? Not a sheet? Very interesting to hear that bit.”

“’Tis nae interesting. It is my private affair is what it is.”

Quinton’s face became pensive. He studied her for a long moment.

“Nay, lass, it is a matter for more than ye. In fact, that is the driving force behind Lundy’s need to do ye harm. He fears that ye might conceive where all others have failed. Affection can have that effect on a couple.”

Her neck tingled once again. “What do you mean?” She wanted to deny that she harbored affection for Torin, but it would have been a lie, and he deserved better than that. Besides, life was suddenly sweeter today, she could feel the sand running through the hourglass that was her time in this life. She needed to embrace every good moment, not shrug it off. There would be plenty of grief to contend with. Cameron leaned back on one elbow and smirked at her.

“I notice ye didna deny yer feelings for the man.”

“That is—”

“None of my concern?” His voice was arrogant and mocking, annoying her greatly.

“I liked it better when yer back was to me.” Shannon threw his pouch and skin back toward him. She rolled over onto her back and looked at the canvas above her.

“All right, lass. Ye made yer point rather well. Torin is a lucky man.”

Shannon failed to rein in her curiosity and rolled back onto her side to look at the man. He was studying her once more, this time from beneath lowered eyebrows.

“Aye, ye heard me correctly. I said Torin was lucky because ye clearly do hold affection in yer heart for him. I believe Lundy might be justified in his worry. Ye might just be the one to give Torin a child.” His face darkened, as did his tone. “That’s something that is long past due. Torin McLeren is a good man.”

“His mistresses were all good women if they didn’t allow themselves to conceive.”

And it also meant that Torin had told her the truth about his devotion to whichever woman he considered his at the time. That was something no wife might expect, but that every husband demanded. It made her heart ache for him even more.

“Aye, they were that.” Quinton drew in a stiff breath. “But Lundy swears it is on account that he’s meant to be laird of the McLerens. I think Torin deserves something else.”

“He does.”

“If he flew the proof of yer innocence from the window, ye are something important to him.”

Shannon bit into her lower lip, trying to remain silent. Cameron laughed at her efforts.

“Some couples are favored with love. I envy Torin yers.” Cameron leaned slightly toward her. “I see it in yer eyes and the way ye keep edging away from me.” He narrowed his eyes. “Ye’d be trying to cling to me if ye gave up yer purity to gain Torin’s protection.”

Shannon scoffed at Cameron’s ideas. “Torin is an honorable man, and I am nae a coward. That explains why I am not interested in clinging to ye. Or to Lindsey, when he tried his hand at impressing me.”

She rolled back onto her back to end the conversation. Cameron was correct about one thing: she wasn’t interested in clinging to him, even if it meant facing Lundy. The man she longed for was not near, and she felt the separation keenly. The ones who peered toward the tents through the darkness made her neck tighten with tension. Some of them would kill her if they could. The night stretched out in an endless string of hours that just might be her last.

“I do nae mean to be rude. I appreciate ye keeping Lundy from me. Truly I do.”

She heard Cameron snort and turned her head to look at him. Disgust thinned his lips. “That part ye do nae need to thank me for. It is the truth that I enjoy taunting Lundy. The man is too greedy, too eager to tell one and all that Torin has no children. That is nae something any man should be gleefully announcing. Life is a precious thing when it comes to children. I cannae respect a man who does nae have any humility when it comes to another’s lack of children or the whim of fate when she is in the mood to be less than kind.”

“Torin is nae an old man. He’ll likely marry and have lots of babes.”

“Maybe with ye.”

“With any healthy woman, I’d say.”

Quinton shook his head. “He flew that gown for a reason, lass. He’ll come for ye. I’d bet the harvest on it.”

Shannon cast one final look at Quinton before rolling onto her side to give him her back. The man was too keen, and she needed to keep her thoughts private.

Come for her?

Sweet Christ… she prayed so!

She fought back tears and lost the battle. They eased from the corners of her eyes and left trails down her cheeks.

She did love him.

Quinton was correct about that. Shannon pulled the arisaid closer as she grew colder, but the chill came from inside her. The reason was simple; it was very possible that she would not see Torin again. Not in this life.

Which meant she would not be able to give him a child born from her love.

But the Douglas would not have taken her away from Torin while he was away if he intended for her to live. There was no way to ignore that bit of truth. It drilled deeply into her heart, making sleep impossible. She ached, and the pain was a torment that defied everything she had ever known.

So cruel. Fate was truly unkind.

***

Holyrood Palace was an old abbey. James II had been born beneath its ceiling and crowned there as well. Shannon looked down on it, marveling at the activity that was clustered around it. There was a stream of people trying to enter the main gate, but it looked as though many were being turned away. When they rode closer, she could see that many of those denied entrance were dressed in their finery. Ladies wore overrobes of velvet with pearls and veils of transparent silk. Their faces were dusted with powder, and they looked out of the boxes they sat in by pulling back the curtains. Those seat boxes were held on long poles between two horses. Shannon had seen only a few when her new stepmothers arrived, because they were more suited to the road of a city than the rocky paths of the country. They were extreme luxuries, their only purpose to protect the costly garments the occupants wore and to transport those noble people in comfort. Some of the chairs even had iron boxes beneath the seats, where hot rocks might be placed.

Some of the men were dressed in costly overtunics, but there were far more kilts than not. Fancy hats with trimmed and curled feathers adorned their heads, but they clung to their clan colors. The number of people being denied entrance was growing and growing. They moved off to the side of the gate with frustration written on their faces.

“The Earl of Douglas is not taking chances with the young king he’s been placed in charge of. The palace will be a quiet place for a long time to come.”

“I can see the wisdom in that.” Shannon could also see the advantage to the lieutenant general’s wiping her entire family off the face of Scotland. Atholl had tried to claim the throne because he and James I had the same grandfather. The man had married twice, dissolving his first marriage. But there were those who didn’t agree with the children of that first marriage being cut off from the inheritance of the crown.

Atholl had amassed all those who he could to his cause, and the only true way that James II would continue to rule was to make sure such a cause could not rise again. Atholl was gone, and with him the blood that threatened to topple the reigning monarch. Or more importantly, those who ruled in his stead like Archibald Douglas. The queen was also regent for her son, but she was English born and needed the powerful earl to help her keep her son on the throne.

Inside the palace there would be no mercy for anyone who had backed Atholl. Shannon felt that truth ripple across her skin as they rode toward the main gate. Their number was great enough to alarm the guards on the walls. She saw their arrows being notched against their bows when Cameron and Lundy rode forward without pausing. Unlike so many others, they passed through the double iron gates and into the lower courtyard. There they met the royal guard and the Douglas retainers. They were pouring out of the barracks and out into the yard to confront Cameron.

But Lundy spoke first. “I brought ye a McBoyd traitor.”

There were snarls from the Douglas retainers. Metal slid against metal as many of them lent action to their opinions of her name. The Cameron men clustered about her.

“The man’s daughter, so sheathe yer weapons, because the lieutenant general sent for her.”

Eyes narrowed, and no one moved. Shannon felt as if the moment became an entire hour while she waited to feel those unsheathed swords pierce her flesh. She heard each of her heartbeats, an eternity between each one, because she was conscious that it might be one of her last.

“Aye, the lieutenant general did send for her. Make way.”

The sea of angry faces parted to reveal the grand entrance to the palace. Two stories high, it was a curved opening framed in ivory. The palace itself was made of brown stone that looked almost golden where the sun shone on it. There were small windows, set with true glass panes, to testify that it was in fact the residence of a king, but what drew Shannon’s interest were the thick walls built to be inescapable.

How many had come to this beautiful place to die?

She did not envy the king or his queen mother. She would not want to live in any place that sat over a dungeon where torture and death were an everyday occurrence. What joy was there in the expensive ivory edgings and glass windows when she knew that beneath it lay suffering?

Her opinion did not matter. She was swept inside between Cameron retainers, who buffeted her against the snarling Lundy ones and the brooding Douglas ones.

She drew in a deep breath and lifted her chin. Whatever lay in front of her, she would face it without cringing.

That was what she had always shown Torin, and today she would not be changing.