Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

T he night passed by in a blur. In an attempt to keep Laird Ruthven away from her, Bonnie had spent the night by Laird MacGregor's side, which was only marginally preferable, she thought. Out of the two of them, Laird MacGregor seemed to pose the least immediate threat, and so she figured it was better to stay with him and dance the night away than let Ruthven get too close.

It was late at night when Bonnie, too exhausted to continue with the festivities even as those around her still danced and sang merrily, fueled by all the wine and the food, took a seat at one of the tables and let her shoulders sag for a moment, foregoing her usual perfect posture. She let her guard down, too, and when someone slid next to her, for a moment she feared it was none other than Ruthven, but when she dared to look, it was only Laird MacGregor.

"Shall we leave?" he asked.

"Leave?" asked Bonnie with a frown. "Where would we go?"

"There's an inn in the town," said Laird MacGregor. "We have rooms there."

"I am a guest o' Laird Hamilton," Bonnie pointed out. "We both are. Why should we stay at an inn?"

Briefly, Laird MacGregor looked around them before leaning in to whisper sternly in Bonnie's ear. "Because there will be nae one tae listen tae us there. Nae one who cares what we have tae say, at least."

Bonnie pulled back from him, pinning him with a sharp gaze. "Ye may go, then," she said. "I will stay here. I told ye, I willnae go anywhere with ye."

"Then I should call Laird Ruthven an' tell him ye will be stayin'."

Laird MacGregor had hardly managed to finish his sentence before Bonnie grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving, glaring at him. "Ye will dae nae such thing."

"If ye stay here, he will find you eventually," he pointed out. "Is that a risk ye wish tae take?"

Bonnie considered her options for a moment. If she left with Laird MacGregor and his brother, then for all she knew, she would end up tortured and killed, even if the man had assured her time and time again that he had no desire to harm her. If she stayed in Castle Hamilton, then she would be forced to be close to Laird Ruthven and she wanted to avoid that as much as she could.

Could he be tellin' the truth? Will he truly nae harm me?

"Ye must choose," Laird MacGregor said. "I will soon find me brother an' leave."

Looking around her helplessly, Bonnie tried to figure out a way to avoid both men. The more she searched for a way out, though, the more she realized there was no better, third option.

"Me guards."

O' course! Finlay an' Lachlan will save me from all this!

As her guards, they had not attended the feast, but they were still in the castle. Bonnie would simply have to rope them into helping her, something that couldn't prove too difficult for her. Finlay was a good friend and so was Lachlan. They would be more than willing to help her.

"Yer guards are gone."

Fear crept down Bonnie's spine, like icy water dripping down her back. She looked at Laird MacGregor with wide, fearful eyes as she tried to move back from him as far as her seat would allow, her stomach churning at the thought that they had met such a cruel fate.

Bonnie should have warned them about him. She should have told them to be wary, to watch their backs. Now they were gone, all because she had been too focused on her own survival to consider the danger they were facing.

"They're goin' back tae the mainland," Laird MacGregor said with a roll of his eyes. "What did ye think I was sayin'?"

The relief that washed over Bonnie was so intense that she would have collapsed onto the floor had she not been sitting. Finlay and Lachlan were still alive. Their lives were not in danger.

"I thought ye killed them!" she whispered.

"Why would I kill them?" Laird MacGregor whispered back.

"Because ye kill everyone!"

That may have been an exaggeration, Bonnie thought after the words were out of her mouth. Really, she hadn't even seen the man kill someone, but it was the only logical conclusion she could reach. He was violent, cruel, prone to anger. He had tortured a man half to death without even flinching. Was it truly such a leap to think that he was a bloodthirsty killer?

But if Laird MacGregor hadn't killed her guards, if they had truly simply returned home, then why had she not been informed?

"Who sent them away?" she demanded. "Was it ye?"

"Nay," said Laird MacGregor. "But I saw Ruthven speak tae them. I assume he told them their services were nae longer needed, since ye would be accompanied by his guards tae Castle Ruthven."

Bonnie barely managed to suppress a furious growl, her fingers curling into fists until her nails bit into the meat of her palm, leaving small crescents behind. The audacity of Laird Ruthven to send away her own guards! They were not supposed to take any orders from him.

It wouldn't surprise her, though, if the council was behind all this once again. Surely, they wanted no distractions near her, and since they had no way of knowing that Macauley and Cathleen wouldn't make it to the wedding, they may have thought her guards' presence insignificant.

Now there she was, stuck in Arran with Laird MacGregor and Laird Ruthven, with no one else to turn to.

"Make yer choice, cousin," said Laird MacGregor and Bonnie didn't appreciate the mocking tone. "We must leave."

Bonnie glanced across the room to where Laird Ruthven sat, gesturing wildly with his cup of wine until it spilled everywhere. She watched as a servant approached him and tried to refill his cup, only to spill a few drops of wine on him when he moved it again.

The slap that followed echoed all around the great hall. The servant girl's head was wrenched to the side, the force of the blow making her stumble and spill the entire pitcher on herself. Everyone around Laird Ruthven froze, and it was only when he stood, towering over the servant as if the slap hadn't been enough to appease him, that a few men jumped in to diffuse the situation.

Bonnie turned to Laird MacGregor, who was watching, too, a grim expression shadowing his face.

"Let us go," she said.

Two days.

That was all Bonnie had been afforded before she would have to make an appearance at Castle Ruthven. Two days in that inn with the MacGregor brothers and no one else to speak to.

At least she had her own room there. The two men had booked two, but were forced to share one when Bonnie joined them, and she didn't even have to insist on it. For all their other faults, they seemed to be gentlemen in that regard, at least, and neither of them had tried to creep into her room in the middle of the night or touch her whenever she was near.

If anything, they had hardly spoken to her, other than to remind her there was nowhere for her to run and that they would go after her and hunt her down if she tried.

Bonnie had some gold on her for emergencies. She had her belongings, too, which her guards had delivered to Arran for her, so she had one jewelry to spare, as well. If she managed to slip away, if she managed to find a birlinn that would take her back to the mainland and then a carriage to take her home?—

But the council would be furious. She would singlehandedly ruin every effort they had made for this alliance, and they would surely punish Bonnie for it, one way or another. Perhaps they would even manage to find someone worse than Laird Ruthven for her to marry.

The room Bonnie had been given was small and modest, with a bed, a basin, and a small table by the window, along with a chair for anyone who cared to sit there. Despite the confined space, she had spent the entire day there, avoiding the MacGregors as much as she could, but now that the sky had darkened, the sun long set in the horizon, she found that she could not battle her hunger anymore. Reluctantly, she stood from the bed and made her way downstairs, eager to ask the innkeeper for some food, but before she could reach the man, she saw the two brothers hunched over a table, talking quietly to each other.

The ground floor of the inn was rather spacious, with several tables strewn about the room. Some of them were occupied by other guests who were enjoying their dinner under the warm orange light of the torches and the warmth of the fire that blazed in the large fireplace. It was a cozy place, decorated modestly but with carpets and tapestries that gave the place a feeling of home.

Neither brother noticed as she approached, absorbed as they were in their conversation, and so Bonnie took the chance to overhear what they were saying, hoping she could get some information out of them while they were unguarded.

"This is dangerous," she heard Alaric say, though the prospect of whatever danger he was talking about didn't seem to rattle him much. It was as though he was merely pointing out a fact. "What if Ruthven thinks she is helpin' us?"

"She is helpin' us," said Laird MacGregor. "Even if she doesnae ken it."

It didn't take long for Bonnie to realize they were talking about her. She leaned a little closer, her stomach tying itself into a knot as she listened.

"Even worse," said Alaric. "If she doesnae ken anythin', then she willnae be prepared."

"If she doesnae ken anythin', she can claim ignorance," said Laird MacGregor. "All we have tae dae is go intae the castle, stay there fer a while, an' find somethin', anythin' that connects Ruthven tae Balliol."

Ruthven an' Balliol? Is Ruthven helpin' him?

It didn't sound unlikely to Bonnie. From the little she had heard about Graeme Ruthven, he was an ambitious man and it wouldn't surprise her if he tried to gain more influence through John Balliol. Then again, she couldn't understand why the MacGregors would try to find a connection between them—why they would be willing to risk their lives for it, infiltrating Castle Ruthven under false pretenses. Many despised Balliol, but to go to such great lengths spoke of treason.

"What about Ruthven an' Balliol?"

Both brothers jumped at the sound of her voice, their hands reaching for their weapons on instinct. Bonnie couldn't help but chuckle at the reaction as she slid into the empty chair at their table, eager to know more.

The two brothers let out identical sighs and exchanged a glance, and it seemed to Bonnie as though they were communicating silently, without needing to use any words.

"How long have ye been standin' there?" Laird MacGregor asked wearily.

Bonnie shrugged. "Long enough. If ye didnae wish fer me tae hear ye, ye should have been more careful, Laird MacGregor."

"We're supposed tae be cousins," he gritted out, leaning over the table to get closer to Bonnie. "Call me by me name."

"I dinnae think that's our biggest issue here, Evan ," Bonnie hissed, leaning closer as well, until their faces were mere inches apart. "What was it that ye were sayin'? Are ye usin' me tae get tae Laird Ruthven?"

Evan and Alaric glanced at each other once more, as Bonnie pushed back from Evan and settled back in her seat. They seemed to be communicating in silence again, neither of them willing to speak first.

It was Evan who spoke in the end. "We have good reason tae think Ruthven is workin' with John Balliol," he said. "An' we wish tae find proof. Solid proof. We've tried but we havenae gotten close enough tae him. With ye in the castle, though, we can finally watch him closely."

"Why?" Bonnie asked. "What dae ye have tae gain from this?"

"Everythin'," said Evan. "Surely, ye understand how terrible Balliol is fer us . . . fer all the clans. If we allow him tae rule, he will destroy us all. The Sassenachs will come tae our lands an' have absolute control over us. We cannae allow that tae happen."

Bonnie hesitated, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. "Is that why ye were torturin' the man? Fer information?"

"Aye," said Alaric. "We dinnae enjoy hurtin' people, Miss MacLaren, an' we willnae hurt ye. I can promise ye that. But we need yer help with this, even if it is dangerous."

So, they arenae the ruthless killers I thought they were.

Both Evan and Alaric were unsettling to look at—Alaric even more so, with his scars and tattoos. Now that Bonnie was speaking to them, though, she saw a different, gentler side of them. They both seemed earnest, eager to make a difference. They both seemed dedicated to their cause, to helping those around them.

Maybe she truly had misunderstood them after all. Alaric seemed so earnest when he said that they wouldn't hurt her that Bonnie was inclined to believe him despite her fears.

"Alright," she said, nodding once decisively. "Alright, I will help ye."

"Ye will?" Alaric asked, surprised by her willingness.

"I will," Bonnie confirmed. It was for the greater good. If she could help in any way, then she would. "But I wish tae ken more. This is . . . this is treason. Are ye certain ye can dae it? Are ye certain ye wish tae?"

"We dae," Evan said drily. "We've thought about all this afore but this needs tae be done. "I willnae allow the Sassenachs tae come here an' . . . an' destroy everythin'."

As he spoke, Evan's hand that rested on the table curled into a tight fist and his jaw tightened, the words barely coming past his lips. There was more to it than what he claimed, Bonnie knew then. There was something personal against the English, something that drove him to do anything he needed to in order to defeat them.

Gently, Bonnie placed her hand over that fist, looking Evan in the eyes. "What is it? What happened?"

For a moment, both Evan and Alaric froze. Then, Evan snatched his hand back and glared at Bonnie, scoffing.

"It doesnae concern ye," he said.

"Ye love tae say that," Bonnie pointed out. "But it willnae help me keep meself safe. How dae ye expect me tae assist ye when ye willnae tell me the whole truth?"

"Ye dinnae need tae ken any o' it," Evan insisted. "All ye need tae ken is that we seek information."

Bonnie stared at him, tight-lipped and narrow-eyed, but Evan wouldn't budge. He stared right back as if daring her to say anything else, knowing that she wouldn't win. She wouldn't get any truth out of him if he didn't want to share it.

"Fine," said Bonnie as she stood, the legs of her chair scraping against the stone floor as she pushed it back. "I will be in me room, then, if ye dinnae wish tae talk."

She stalled for a second, just to see if Evan or Alaric would say something or try to convince her to stay, but neither man spoke. With a huff, she headed back upstairs, any thoughts of dinner long forgotten, her mind trying to process the little she now knew.

Indeed, it sounded like a dangerous task and she couldn't completely trust Evan and Alaric when they refused to reveal the whole truth to her. On the other hand, it could lead to Laird Ruthven's downfall. It was that thought which prompted her to agree to help. With Laird Ruthven gone, Bonnie wouldn't have to marry him and she could give herself at least some time before the council found another husband for her.

Maybe it will even be someone kinder.

If nothing else, it wouldn't be a man who supported John Balliol. Laird Ruthven could only bring ruin to any clan with which he would be associated, and Bonnie would do anything in her power to keep the people she loved from being caught up in the storm.

Evan an' Alaric better be tellin' me some o' the truth, at least. I am riskin' everythin' fer them.

Perhaps it was madness, trusting two people she had only just met, especially when everything they had done up to that point was based on violence and deception, but Bonnie was willing to take her chances. Anything sounded better than marrying a man like Laird Ruthven.