spanning her waist. The sweet familiar warmth of his touch sent a tingling shock through her, and she lifted her face to gaze into his.
" Cam, I thought you'd never come."
"You knew I would." His voice had dropped to a low husky note, and his intense blue gaze held Brenna's. She felt as if she was being drawn into the clear depths of twin mountain lakes, as if she was drowning. But she drowned in joy, and only insistent, prickling fear forced her to speak.
"But not today. Not with English soldiers inside the walls."
He laughed and whirled her into the first steps of the dance. "That's why I sent Iain, to prepare you."
"It's mad to walk into the lion's lair," she said when he swung her back to him again.
"Your brother is no lion," he answered, his old co ntempt for Malcolm in his words.
"It's the Earl of Stratford I tried to warn you about," she told him. "He isn't Malcolm's kind of fool . You can't underestimate him.”
Cam 's teasing smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Are you saying you fear for my skin?"
"I fear for the least hair on your head, and you know it," she shot back. "How do you expect to escape once the Earl discovers you've deceived him?"
"By the time the Earl realizes I don't intend to betray the Prince, he'll find his dragoons very little help to him."
"Have you brought an army to Lochmarnoch?" she asked.
He ignored her skeptical tone, spinning her away from him again. "Not so many men as that. But I know how to use them."
Other dancers had joined them on the floor. Brenna waited until they drew close again to speak.
"I'll have more of an answer than yo u're giving me."
Amusement lit in his eyes at her persistence. "With so many guests and their tacksmen arriving through your brother's gates, it was easy enough to send my men in wearing the tartans of the other clans. I learned every twist and stone of Lochmarnoch Castle before we were ten. And some of my clansmen whiled away pleasant hours in your kitchens before the Rising."
"They persuaded the maids in the kitchens to help you?" Had Cam thought what the price could be for the scullery maids once he and his men were gone? "Did they poison the dragoons?"
"Nothing so elaborate or dangerous," Cam said. "They only served them a midday meal that made most of them retch and the rest of them green." He couldn't repress a soft laugh.
"By the time my men closed on them, they were too weak to make much protest at being herded inside cells under the guard house. They'll survive, and no one can lay any certain blame."
The worry that weighed on Brenna lifted. She wanted to laugh at how easily Cam had unbarred the castle gates. "And how did your men come by other clan's plaids?" she inquired with a small smile.
"Do you need to ask?" He flashed her a highwayman's grin. "Some of our neighbors' men will nurse lumps on their heads, but most were secretly glad to lend their tartans in the Stuart cause."
Brenna knew many of her brother's men still had Stuart lean ings. But they were bound in loyalty to the chief of their clan. Like the men who quietly surrendered their plaids, they would never directly disobey their chief, even one as sorry as Malcolm.
"Do you really think you can sway any of Malcolm's guests to join the Prince's cause?"
Cam 's face grew grim. "I have to try."
"Are things so desperate?" Brenna asked in alarm.
"We've won battle after battle," Cam said, "but we have yet to win the war. We're in retreat, but we're going to turn and fight, and we need all the clans behind us."
If any man could persuade their neighbors to change sides, it was Cam. With the Highlands at his back, the Prince might finally inspire the fierce loyalty of Scot for Scot.
The last strains of the dance were fast approaching, and Brenna could waste no more time in questions. Conscious every eye in the hall was on them, she drew away from him in the final intricate steps of the
" Cam, I thought you'd never come."
"You knew I would." His voice had dropped to a low husky note, and his intense blue gaze held Brenna's. She felt as if she was being drawn into the clear depths of twin mountain lakes, as if she was drowning. But she drowned in joy, and only insistent, prickling fear forced her to speak.
"But not today. Not with English soldiers inside the walls."
He laughed and whirled her into the first steps of the dance. "That's why I sent Iain, to prepare you."
"It's mad to walk into the lion's lair," she said when he swung her back to him again.
"Your brother is no lion," he answered, his old co ntempt for Malcolm in his words.
"It's the Earl of Stratford I tried to warn you about," she told him. "He isn't Malcolm's kind of fool . You can't underestimate him.”
Cam 's teasing smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Are you saying you fear for my skin?"
"I fear for the least hair on your head, and you know it," she shot back. "How do you expect to escape once the Earl discovers you've deceived him?"
"By the time the Earl realizes I don't intend to betray the Prince, he'll find his dragoons very little help to him."
"Have you brought an army to Lochmarnoch?" she asked.
He ignored her skeptical tone, spinning her away from him again. "Not so many men as that. But I know how to use them."
Other dancers had joined them on the floor. Brenna waited until they drew close again to speak.
"I'll have more of an answer than yo u're giving me."
Amusement lit in his eyes at her persistence. "With so many guests and their tacksmen arriving through your brother's gates, it was easy enough to send my men in wearing the tartans of the other clans. I learned every twist and stone of Lochmarnoch Castle before we were ten. And some of my clansmen whiled away pleasant hours in your kitchens before the Rising."
"They persuaded the maids in the kitchens to help you?" Had Cam thought what the price could be for the scullery maids once he and his men were gone? "Did they poison the dragoons?"
"Nothing so elaborate or dangerous," Cam said. "They only served them a midday meal that made most of them retch and the rest of them green." He couldn't repress a soft laugh.
"By the time my men closed on them, they were too weak to make much protest at being herded inside cells under the guard house. They'll survive, and no one can lay any certain blame."
The worry that weighed on Brenna lifted. She wanted to laugh at how easily Cam had unbarred the castle gates. "And how did your men come by other clan's plaids?" she inquired with a small smile.
"Do you need to ask?" He flashed her a highwayman's grin. "Some of our neighbors' men will nurse lumps on their heads, but most were secretly glad to lend their tartans in the Stuart cause."
Brenna knew many of her brother's men still had Stuart lean ings. But they were bound in loyalty to the chief of their clan. Like the men who quietly surrendered their plaids, they would never directly disobey their chief, even one as sorry as Malcolm.
"Do you really think you can sway any of Malcolm's guests to join the Prince's cause?"
Cam 's face grew grim. "I have to try."
"Are things so desperate?" Brenna asked in alarm.
"We've won battle after battle," Cam said, "but we have yet to win the war. We're in retreat, but we're going to turn and fight, and we need all the clans behind us."
If any man could persuade their neighbors to change sides, it was Cam. With the Highlands at his back, the Prince might finally inspire the fierce loyalty of Scot for Scot.
The last strains of the dance were fast approaching, and Brenna could waste no more time in questions. Conscious every eye in the hall was on them, she drew away from him in the final intricate steps of the
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