Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Charlotte meticulously cut a slice of venison on her plate and took her time buttering a bannock, averting her gaze as much as she could at dinner that evening. She still felt her cheeks warming every time she thought of herself sprawled over Niall’s lap earlier and the reaction it had caused. Especially the reaction. Coming from the twenty-first century, she knew the swelling of his manhood had been only a physical reaction and not necessarily personal, but the response still excited her as well. If they were in the twenty-first century, she might well have encouraged him. Unfortunately, eighteenth-century morals were quite different if a female wanted to be considered respectable—and she needed to stay respectable, given her current situation.
Thea would no doubt scoff at her for caving, but Thea wasn’t here. This afternoon’s visits to the inns in Inverness had pretty much proved that neither Thea nor Vi was in this century. She was going to have to come up with some excuse as to why her friends were not looking for her. Soon.
“Ye had nae luck today?” Greer asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “None.”
Greer looked at her brother. “Did ye check the ledgers?”
“There was nae need. The innkeepers had not seen them.” Niall frowned. “Why do ye ask?”
“I was just thinking.” She turned to Charlotte. “Your friends were a Sutherland and a Ross, nae?”
“Yes.”
Greer turned back to Niall. “They might have used different last names since their clans are nae liked in these parts.”
Niall’s frown deepened while Charlotte felt a spark of hope, something akin to getting an inspirational plot point in one of her novels when she hit writer’s block.
“I think the reason the innkeepers haven’t seen them is because they’re gone.”
Four pairs of eyes riveted on her.
“Why would you say that?” Niall asked.
“Aye. Ye said they were your friends,” Simon added.
“They were. Are. Are my friends,” Geez, she’d almost blown it already, but her mind was still trying to spin the story. “But the intent was never to stay by my side forever, only to help me get away.” She looked at Greer, since it was easier than meeting Niall’s eyes. “Their families are like yours…they’ll send out search parties if they were gone too long.”
Simon raised a brow. “And your kin will nae come looking for ye?”
“I…suppose they might.” Where was she going to go with this? The plot was getting messy. She began to feel desperate when ingenuity struck. Yes! “We each left a note for our families that we were going to celebrate Hogmanay in Glasgow.”
“Glasgow?” Niall asked.
“Thea has relatives there.” That much was true, but they were in the twenty-first century. “It wouldn’t be that unusual for us to visit them.” And they had, Thea and Vi and herself, before they’d come to Inverness. 270-plus years in the future.
The plotline of her story was growing. Maybe this tale would work. She prayed that it would. She allowed herself a tentative smile. “Besides, if my betrothed tries to find me, I want him heading in the opposite direction.”
For a moment, amusement flickered in Niall’s eyes, then faded. “Your betrothed…how determined will he be to find ye?”
“Ah…” Just who was her “betrothed”? She hadn’t done a character sheet on him yet. “I’m not sure. He’s…prideful.”
Simon grimaced. “Just what we need. A bloody Campbell chasing after ye.”
“He’s not a Campbell.” She spoke without thinking.
“Nae? Which clan, then?”
“Umm…” Think. Think. Her writer’s mind went into overdrive. She had a cousin… “Grant. His name is Colin Grant.”
Simon narrowed his eyes. “Which family does he belong to? George Grant or James?”
For a moment, Charlotte was nonplussed. How in the world could they know her uncle’s name was George? Was her world changing back? But nothing moved and she didn’t feel dizzy. “George.”
Greer gasped. Simon swore. Their father banged his mug on the table. Luckily, it was pewter. Niall groaned.
Charlotte looked at them. Her blood felt like it was turning to ice by their expressions. “What? What is it?”
Niall looked at his father and brother, then turned to her. “General George Grant is nae our friend, lass.”
“And he’s a hell of a lot closer to us than the Campbells,” Simon said.
Greer glared at him. “Must ye curse?”
Her brother glared back. “The clan holds Urquhart Castle, just fifteen miles from here.”
“There’s a wee bit of water in between.” Niall looked at Charlotte. “If your betrothed lives that close, though, ye would have been smarter to go to Glasgow or Edinburgh.”
Whoops. Had she blundered? “No. He doesn’t live there.” That was true. Her cousin had never been to Scotland. “He…” Good God. Where should he live? Where would be far enough away, yet close enough to the Campbell seat? Charlotte wished Thea was here. She knew her history. Wait, though…she did know of a place. “He lives at Fort William.”
Simon’s eyes were like twin blades of steel. “An English soldier.”
For a moment, Charlotte wasn’t sure how to answer. She certainly seemed to be putting her foot in her mouth. Or, maybe, since this was Scotland, she was putting both feet into boggy ground that would suck her under. This is what happens when I don’t outline a story. But this was no time for self-recrimination. She was going to have to fly by the seat of her pants this once. And…maybe… Insight flared. “Yes. He is. He’s a soldier. That’s partially the reason I do not want to marry him.” She looked again at Greer since she still didn’t think she could meet Niall’s gaze. “He’s on the wrong side of the war. Just one reason I don’t want to marry him.”
Silence met that remark. Simon and his father exchanged glances. It seemed like an eternity before anyone spoke.
”Ye do have a point, lass,” Niall said.
“I still doona like it,” Simon growled.
Simon was beginning to irritate her. She was doing her best with this fabrication, although she didn’t think anyone would appreciate the irony of it except her. She lifted her head and stared back. “I do not like it either, but it is what it is.”
He was not cowed. Instead he narrowed his eyes. “I still doona believe your friends would have left ye.”
“I already told you why they would have to leave,” she shot back. “What else can I tell you?”
“Nothing more.” Greer glared at her brother. “’Tis possible when her friends saw her with Niall, they kenned she would be in good hands and knew it would be safe to leave.”
Charlotte managed to avoid gaping at her. That was a ploy worthy of a Regency heroine, although fifty years too early for this time.
“Enough of this talk,” Niall said suddenly. “Greer speaks true. Frasers will protect those who want protection.” He looked at Charlotte and his gaze softened. “And ye will have mine, lass. I swear it.”
Charlotte swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn’t succumb to actual swooning. Nothing in her novels could compare to the sincerity of the oath he had just given her. And she…she was a fraud.
****
Niall suspected Simon and his father were not happy with his avowal to protect Charlotte, and those suspicions were confirmed when he was summoned to the council room shortly after dinner. Both his sibling and his parent wore combative looks he knew only too well.
“Ye might as well have your say,” he said as he pulled out a chair and sank down on it.
Simon looked at their father, who gestured that he should begin. Turning to Niall, he looked ready to spit fire.
“’Tis bad enough we are housing a Campbell, but have ye gone completely barmy? She is betrothed to a Grant.”
Niall shrugged. “One she says she doesna want to marry.”
“A convenient story, mayhap,” his father said.
“What do ye mean by that?”
“Deceiving ye by telling the tale and gaining your sympathy,” his father replied, “to keep ye from discerning the real reason she is here.”
If anyone knew anything about a thing or two about deception, it was his father. The man was an expert at it and equally expert at concealing it. Niall wasn’t sure what his da’s real motives were, but he needed to stand his ground.
“What do ye think the ‘real’ reason is, then?”
It was his father’s turn to shrug. “Campbells and most Grants are allied with the government. Can ye nae figure it out for yourself?”
Niall ignored the bait. He also refrained from reminding his father that he had sided with the government to suit his own ends. “I believe the lass.”
Simon waved a hand. “’Tis because ye want to tup her. Ye canna see what lies behind the bonnie looks.”
“I doona want—”
“Aye, ye do. ’Tis written plainly on your face.”
Niall scowled. He hated when his brother could read him, but he couldn’t deny that lust served well as a distraction. Nor could he deny the feeling itself. He’d proved that just this afternoon. He squelched his anger—never an emotion to allow when he was about to do battle—and smiled at Simon.
“Since I am obviously a mooncalf in this situation, why do ye nae enlighten me as to how devious the lass is?”
Simon ignored his sarcasm. “Things do nae add up, brother. A bonnie lass just shows up and attaches herself to ye at Hogmanay. Then she swoons. Her ‘friends’ are nae to be seen. So ye bring her home—”
“What was I supposed to do? Leave her lying on the street?”
“Even today, ye could find nae clue that the ‘friends’ exist,” Simon continued as though Niall hadn’t interrupted, “and we couldna find hide nor hair of Campbells lurking about—”
“Which should prove to ye she is nae a spy,” Niall said.
“On the contrary.” This time, his father spoke. “She could be providing information to the colonel at the fort or in alliance with the Grants. One of them could be hiding in full sight in Inverness.”
“What would be the logic in that if she is nae willing to marry a Grant?” Niall asked.
His father looked at him as though he’d gone daft. “What if the lass lies? What if, instead of running away from Colin Grant, he is really the person she reports to?”
“Urquhart is a half-day’s ride from here, their clan seat less than twenty miles. If there is a Grant waiting close by, she could easily send a message to them about our plans for the Cause,” Simon added.
“She has nae asked a single question.”
“So far, she has nae had to,” Simon said. “We haven’t mentioned where the prince is staying—so she has nae a thing to report. Yet.”
“Yet?” As much as he didn’t want to think such a thing was possible, Niall had to admit that everything his brother—and even his father—had laid out was a possibility. Wars had been lost, kingdoms had toppled, because men had been duped by women. He didn’t like considering that his feelings for Charlotte would get in the way of his rational thinking, but the attraction was strong.
“Yet,” Simon replied. “I ken ye want to protect the lass and—if she speaks true that she is running away from a Grant—I will support her as well.”
Niall gave him a wary look. “And how do ye intend to prove she is telling the truth?”
“By feeding her lies.” His father grinned.
“Which ye are an expert at.” The words came out without thought, but Niall wasn’t about to take them back.
His father didn’t seem offended. “Mayhap it takes a liar to find a liar? I say we give the lass some misinformation—since ye doona like the other term—and see what she does with it.”
“Aye.” Simon nodded. “We ken that Murray split the army into two, one to distract while the other advanced to Stirling. We can tell her about the split but give alternative destinations.” He grinned too. “That will benefit us twice over.”
Niall narrowed his eyes. “What do ye plan to do?”
His brother’s grin widened. “Play cat-and-mouse. We give her the information, then we announce a trip to Inverness where we men have to meet someone so she will be free do some shopping—”
“No woman can resist that,” his father chortled.
Simon shook his head. “Beside the point, Da. It will give the lass an opportunity to relay her message. We will have her followed, of course. If she meets someone, we will ken she is a spy.”
“I doona like it.” Niall sighed. “But if it will keep ye from hammering on about it, I will nae stand in the way—”
“Good.”
“—but ye said this would serve twice over. What do ye mean by that? I’ll nae have Charlotte hurt, nae matter what the outcome.”
“I wasn’t speaking of hurting her,” Simon glared at him. “I am nae a monster.”
Niall glared back. “Then what did ye mean?”
“’Tis obvious, brother.” His expression changed, and now he looked amused. “If the lass is a spy and gives out the wrong information, the government armies will be marching the wrong way. Murray will be able to declare victory without losing a single man because he won’t be where the English think he is.”
“Brilliant!” his father said.
Niall wasn’t so sure, but at this point there was no use arguing.
However, he intended to not let Charlotte out of his sight when they were out. It was the one way he knew he could protect her.
And find out the truth.