CHAPTER TWELVE

After dismissing Harper early, Abby sat in her bedchamber waiting for Marcus to return. In the light of the morning, evidence of his night with her had been all over the room. The tracks of his boots were visible on the wooden floor where he had left the dust of his journey behind, and the bathwater was dirtier than when Abby had got out of it. The bed sheets were rumpled and creased, and Abby could smell Marcus all over them, and on the fur cover and the pillow. After he had left she had moved over to his side, burying her face in the bedclothes so that his scent surrounded her. The sheet was still warm from his body. She couldn't help thinking what it would be like to have him by her side every night, to wake to his kisses, his whispered words, his body hard against her. By the time Harper had arrived, Abby was dozing, and had come around to see the girl standing in the middle of the room, gazing at the mess.

"Is everything alright, Mistress?"

"Yes, Harper. Everything is fine."

The girl had nodded, and set about cleaning the room and emptying the bath without a word, just a smile on her face.

Abby had been down to the kitchen earlier, and stolen food and a bottle of French wine while the cook was distracted. She had cleared her dressing table, set it up as a dinner table with the food laid out on it. Now, as she waited for Marcus, she felt nervous, like she had gone too far, made too much of a fuss. Their relationship so far was one of moments, scenes stolen from another life, one that Abby had not dared to think of, until now. Marcus staying the night, coming home to her for a second night was giving her a glimpse of that life and she wanted to test it out, try it on, see how it fit. What she had now realised, though, was that she was testing how they fit into her life, one of a warm home, plentiful food, a bed so comfortable they could stay in it forever. That was not his life. When he had left this morning he had talked about her being with him, not the other way around, and how could it be anything else? She had no home, money or possessions of her own. She would have to live his life, a transient one with no certainties. When he left for the day he would be going out to rob people, and when he came home his success or failure at that activity would determine whether she had something to put on the table for him to eat, once she had learned to cook. They couldn't live on love alone. That was a romantic idea for young people who knew no better.

She was about to reorganise the table so that it looked less formal, when there was a scrape as the door opened. She turned, and there he was, smiling, and in that moment she thought she could live anywhere, in the filthiest, poorest hovel, as long as she was with him.

She smiled back at him, a smile so broad she thought it must take over her whole face; she probably looked ridiculous, like a love-sick young girl, but she didn't care. He crossed to her, took her in his arms, kissed her like it was the first time and the last time, and every time in between. She was breathless when they parted. She wanted to take him to bed, but they didn't make it that far, ending up on the floor in front of the fire, clothes hurriedly pushed up, hands grasping, limbs entwined, bodies sliding against each other.

Afterwards, they lay, panting, slowly getting their breath back. She turned onto her side.

"Hello!" She said.

"Hello to thee." Kane traced the bones of her face with his fingers, before planting a kiss on her lips.

"What have you done today?"

"Missed thee."

Abby smiled. "Of course, but other than that."

"I rode back to camp. I had to give my report of the trip to France to Jaha."

"Was he pleased with you?"

"He's never pleased, but he was satisfied, yes. I am back in favour, for now."

"I am glad. Did you see Murphy?"

"No. Jaha has sent him away on a mission with some men of his own. It is for the best. I still want to kill him."

Abby put her arm on Kane's. "Don't do that. He is not worth it. And it has worked out for the best in the end. We know the truth of each other now."

"Aye, but there is one thing I didn't get chance to tell ye yesterday."

"What is that?"

"Murphy told Jaha about what yer husband did to Alice, and now Jaha is thinking of a way to use it for his own gain."

"Oh."

"Aye. Abby?"

"Yes?"

"Did I see food on the table when I came in?"

"You did. Are you hungry?"

"Ravenous."

"Then we shall eat." She got to her feet, pushed her skirts back down and went to the table. Kane followed her. She saw his eyes roam over the table, taking in its formality. He turned to her.

"It looks beautiful."

"Thank you."

He picked up the wine, inspected its label.

"This has long been one of my favourites."

"Really?"

"Aye. Pass the goblets."

She held out both goblets and he poured them an equal measure, checking the levels as he did so. Abby smiled at him and he noticed.

"What?"

"You are so precise!"

"That's what happens when ye grow up in competition with a brother. Everything has to be exactly the same."

"I did not have that."

"Ye did not miss out."

Abby nodded, although she suspected she had missed out. Kane had smiled affectionately when he mentioned the competition with his brother. She thought it would be nice to grow up with someone, share the same experiences, always have someone to rely on, be there for you as Marcus had been for James, even if his brother didn't know it. It was what she had always wanted for Clarke, though it had never happened.

Kane pulled out a chair and dragged it next to the other one so they were at the same end of the table. He sat down and Abby followed suit. He gazed at the selection of food on the table.

"What do ye recommend?"

"The venison pie. It is flavoured with the juniper I pick."

"Then I must try that." He cut two pieces of the pie, handed her one plate, took the other himself. He took a big bite, and nodded. "Mmm. Ye are right. It is delicious."

Abby felt tears prick at her eyes. He knew she had made an effort and somehow he was acknowledging that while making it less formal, more relaxed. She didn't know why this simple gesture of his was affecting her so greatly. She was not used to anyone noticing what she did, the efforts she made.

"Are ye not having any?"

"Yes, of course. I was just enjoying watching you."

"Ah. Well, I do like good food; I just don't get chance to eat it often."

"No. It must be hard."

Kane shrugged. "It is what it is."

Abby broke off a piece of the pie and ate it while she watched him doing the same. She wanted to tell him she loved him again, because she knew she did, so much. The words were there, rising up from her heart, forming on her lips, but she couldn't say them. It wasn't the right time, they were still getting used to each other again.

"I said we needed to talk, when I left this morning," Kane said, taking a sip of wine.

"Yes, you did."

"Have ye thought any about what I said?"

"About leaving him to be with you?"

"Aye."

"Yes, of course."

"What are yer thoughts?"

Abby hesitated, took a deep breath. She wasn't sure what he wanted her to say.

Kane put his hand on hers. "I'm sorry, Abby. That was unfair. I don't mean to put ye on the spot. I will go first."

He cleared his throat, took another sip of wine.

"I feel like ye are the one for me, but ye are with him, and I know ye don't want to be but I don't know what is to be done about it."

"I feel the same."

"Well that is good, at least." Kane smiled. "Ye could come and be with me."

"Where would we live? The Hundred is men only isn't it? That's why Raven has to pretend. They wouldn't let her in if they knew she was a woman."

"That is true, but we don't have to be with the clan."

"Would Jaha let you leave?"

"I don't know. I swore allegiance to the clan. It is not easy to break it."

"Alasdair will not let me go easily. He's not going to shrug his shoulders and say, "oh, well". He's going to come after us."

"Alasdair." Kane spat the name out. "I don't give a fuck what he thinks."

"Marcus. He's my husband. I belong to him, and he won't sit back and let you take me away."

Kane leant forwards, arms crossed beneath the table. "We need to find a way to get rid of him."

"What do you mean?"

"Not to kill him, don't worry. Not that I wouldn't want to, but he deserves worse than that."

"How can we get rid of him?"

"By using the law. There must be something he has done we can use against him."

Abby sat back in her chair, thinking.

"What about the deal he did with your brother? The one he blackmailed your sister-in-law over?"

"I don't know anything about it. And I wouldn't want to drag my brother into this, not after everything I have done to protect him."

Abby took Kane's hand in hers. "I wouldn't want you to, but if he has done one bad deal, there must be others."

"Ye are right. A man like him wouldn't be able to resist, but how do we get proof?"

"His bedchamber is upstairs, and he uses it for his private business. It is locked but I know how to get in. There are papers. The night of the raid, when we first met, he hid papers in the floor of the carriage. I don't know what they were but they could be important."

"Would he keep such things here, when he is away so much?"

"Where else would he keep them? There's only one way to find out."

Abby felt butterflies stirring in her stomach again, a mixture of nerves and excitement. Kane was stroking his bottom lip in contemplation, but his eyes were shining.

"I will go and look," he said at last.

"I know where the key is. Sinclair keeps a master set of keys in his chamber."

"Abby, this is dangerous. I don't want ye involved."

"I AM involved, Marcus. I want to do this. I want to help you. Don't shut me out."

"Alright. But at the slightest sign of trouble ye stop, come back to me."

"I will. When shall we do it?"

"Now is the perfect time. He is not due home until tomorrow?"

"No."

"Then it must be tonight."

"I am ready."

"We're in this together," Kane said.

"We are." They embraced. Abby held on to him tightly, memorising everything about him, his scent, his soft breath on her skin, the beating of his heart against hers. Not just in case. Not for that. Just because.

Kane didn't want to start the search until he was sure the house was as quiet as possible. The staff were busy preparing for Alasdair's return the following day and there was still too much hustle and bustle in the house to risk going to Sinclair's chamber to look for the keys. They spent the waiting time lying on the bed together, face to face, telling each other stories from their pasts. Kane's life had been much more colourful than Abby's, even before he was banished, which was hardly a surprise. He hadn't sweetened the tales, telling her the good things and the bad things he had done. It was obvious to Abby that, despite his role in the Hundred leading him to do take part in activities he would prefer not to, he was prouder of the man he had become since he joined the clan than the man he was before. He looked on his younger self as a wastrel, a good-for-nothing, but Abby thought he was being harsh. He hadn't changed so much as developed, embracing qualities that he had supressed when he was young. His kindness and desire to help others were there, otherwise he wouldn't have reacted to Alice's plight the way he had, and there was no doubt the young man he had been was still very much in evidence, in the cockiness and self-assuredness that had first attracted her to him.

Abby had surprised herself by telling him about Jacob, how she had grown up in his shadow, the younger playmate who was an annoyance to him. How she was surprised when he had been willing to marry her after their parents arranged it, and he had told her on their wedding night that he had always loved her. She was twenty and he was twenty-four and neither of them had any experience at love and they had fumbled their way to laying together. Abby knew now that it was a simple love, naïve and artless, but it had seemed everything to them at the time. She had kept strong when he was dying but had fallen apart afterwards, missing him and not knowing what was to become of her, a widow at twenty-five with a young child. She was grateful when his younger brother agreed to marry her and treat Clarke as his own. She was happy to be able to stay in the home she had made with Jacob, but then that had become a cruel irony, because Alasdair turned that home into a prison, and made the memories of her previous life too painful to think about.

Kane held her when she finished telling him the tale, wrapping her in his arms so tight she had to lift her head so she could breathe.

"I'm sorry that happened to thee," he said. "I wish Jacob were still here, even if it meant I would never have thee, so ye would never have had to be with HIM."

"I wish he had not died. As for the rest, I have survived it, and now it has led to you."

"It will all be worth it, and we will be together soon. I have hope."

"Hope is everything."

"Aye. It is." Kane released her from his grip and sat up. "I think it is time."

Abby got off the bed, smoothed her skirts down, turned to look at Kane who was lying on his side, his arm propping him up, eyes crinkled into a concerned smile.

"I am ready," she said.

"Good. Be as quiet as ye can but don't creep; it's not natural and if anyone sees thee it will look strange. If ye look like ye're where ye meant to be, it will be fine."

"I will."

"Ye know what to say if anyone sees thee in his chamber?"

"I am to seem unwell and say that I am looking for Harper."

"That's right. Her chamber is close by so it will not seem too strange." Kane swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. "Come here."

She went to him and he cupped her face so that she was looking up into his eyes. "Are ye sure about this?"

Abby nodded. "Let's do this." She went to leave, but Kane stopped her.

"Be careful. The tower is safe enough, but in the main house ye're on dangerous ground."

She reached up and kissed him, then left the room, easing the door closed behind her. She was dressed only in her nightslip in order to seem as though she was half asleep if anyone questioned her, and it was cold. She shivered as goosebumps rose on her arms and legs. She was bare-footed and her footsteps were silent as she padded along the stone floor which felt like ice beneath her feet. It was dark in the tower where her bedchamber was located. The steps down to the ground floor were not lit in order to disorientate intruders and Abby held to the stone wall as she negotiated the narrow circular steps, feeling for the wider edge with her toes before committing her foot fully. It took an age to go down four flights of steps but eventually she could see a faint glow touching the walls and knew she was nearing the bottom. She hadn't expected to see anyone in the tower because no one except Harper had reason to come there, but now she was in the main part of the house, and one of her staff could be around any corner. The hallway was lit by weak candlelight from the small shelves cut into the wall at regular intervals. It was tempting to hug the wall as she moved, staying in the shadows, but Marcus had said that would look suspicious, so she straightened her back, and walked with a confidence she did not feel down the centre of the hallway. At the far end was another door, which opened onto the Great Hall. Abby knew from experience that this door creaked when it was opened but she pulled it anyway, wincing as the sound echoed around the stone walls, and closed it behind her, standing with her back to it for a moment, listening to see if anyone had heard, was heading her way. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but that was the only sound she could hear. The rest was complete silence. She crossed the hall quickly, past the tapestries and the framed photos of the Griffin men going back to the time of William the Conqueror. Jacob's portrait was there, his eyes following her as she headed to the other door. She thought he would approve, perhaps not of Marcus, but of what she was doing now. He would never have wanted her to live the life she had with his brother. She didn't usually like to look at his portrait. It saddened her to think of the life she could have had. She preferred living at Arkholm Tower, where the memories of Jacob were fewer, as they had not lived there when he was alive.

Thoughts of him carried her across the large room to the other door and through to a hallway that was the same as the one she had come through. This was where the live-in servants were housed. Sinclair's quarters were at the end of the hallway, close to the exit. Abby had to walk past the rooms of the servants to reach the chamber. Most of them were away with Alasdair but there were still some guards and groomsmen sleeping in the larger of the chambers, which they shared. She took a deep breath and walked down the hallway. She was almost at the door to Sinclair's chamber when she heard the sound of boots on the stone floor. She panicked, and hid herself in a darkened alcove near the door. This was exactly what Marcus had told her not to do, but her instincts took over, and it was too late to change her mind now because the boots were close by. She held her breath, flattened herself against the wall as though she could melt into it. The boots stopped, just the tips of them in her view. They were dark leather, like the guards wore. There was silence for a moment, and then a huge belch issued from the owner of the boots before he started moving again. Abby waited for the sound of the door to the hall opening, and then slipped out of the alcove, anxious to get into Sinclair's chamber before anyone else could disturb her. She had to supress a laugh, born from nerves more than amusement. She was taken over by a fear that he would be inside, that he had come back early somehow while she wasn't looking, while she was on the floor with Marcus, or lying in bed with him too engrossed in their talk to hear the approach of a horse and carriage.

She shook her head. She was being irrational. There was no possible way Sinclair had come back ahead of Alasdair. She had a key to his quarters, given to her by Sinclair so she could find anything he or Alasdair needed while they were away; he did not trust anyone else in the household to enter his chamber or that of Alasdair. He had no doubt never suspected that she would end up using it to betray him. Abby turned the key in the lock and eased the door open. The room was dark, and quiet. She listened for the sound of someone breathing but there was nothing. As her eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, she could tell it was empty. She felt her way to the desk at the far side of the chamber and opened it. The master keys were in a small drawer beneath the writing surface. She lifted the surface and found them. She couldn't see well enough in the dark to tell which was the key to Alasdair's room, so she took all the keys. There were ten in total and they jangled as she closed the lid of the desk and crossed to the door. She had not brought anything with her to put them in as she had expected to only be carrying one plus the key to Sinclair's chamber, so she folded them as tight as she could within the palm of her hand and hoped fervently that she wouldn't come across anyone on her way back. She waited in Sinclair's chamber, the door open a crack so she could hear if the guard returned as he finished his round. It was not long before she heard the clack of his boots again and then the sound of the large outside door opening and closing, the key turning in the lock. She slipped out of the room, locking it behind her, and walked as quickly as she dared back down the hallway, across the Great Hall to the foot of her tower. She ran up the stairs, more certain of her footing climbing in the dark than she had been descending. Kane was pacing her bedchamber when she opened the door and he crossed to her, putting his arms on her shoulders.

"Are ye alright? Did ye encounter any trouble?"

Abby unfurled her hand, showed him the keys she had been gripping so tightly they had left their impressions in her skin.

"I wasn't sure which it was, so I brought them all."

Kane kissed her.

"Ye did well."

"I thought I would be scared, but it was thrilling."

Kane nodded. "Aye. It warms yer blood, doesn't it?" He took the keys from her. "Are there any we can discard as not the ones?"

"Those ones are not big enough."

Kane took the keys she indicated off the ring, leaving him with four to try.

"My turn," he said.

"Let me go with you."

"No. Only one of us should take the risk. There is no point both of us being caught."

"You will not be caught. You are the Grey Wolf."

"Aye. I have been in and out of more chambers than I've had hot dinners."

"I'm not sure I want to know about that!"

Kane laughed. "No, perhaps not."

"Good luck."

Kane nodded, and left to go up to the fifth floor and Alasdair's chamber.

Abby sat at the table and waited, picking at the food which was starting to dry out, the pie crusts going hard, the meats curling at the edges. She found another cloth and laid it over the top to protect everything. There was still some wine in her goblet so she drank it, enjoying the feel of it flowing through her nerves, warming them up. She wondered what Kane was doing, whether he had found anything. Did he know all the places to look? Alasdair was devious; he wouldn't keep his secrets in easy to find places.

She knew she was going to follow him, had known it since the moment he told her she couldn't. The thought that she knew Alasdair better than he did was all the excuse she needed. She opened the door, checked no one was around, and then went up to the top floor. The heavy door creaked as she pushed it open. The room was lit by a single candle and Kane jumped as he heard the door, turning around quickly, his hand going to his ballack knife, drawing it out before she had a chance to speak.

He gave her a look of disapproval, eyebrows raised, one slightly higher than the other.

"I told ye not to come."

"You never listen to me, why should I listen to you?"

Kane relaxed then, and smiled. He put his knife away. "Alright. It will be quicker with two anyway. Start near the bed. I have not looked there yet."

Abby went over to Alasdair's bed, lay down on the floor to crawl under it, look for hidden boxes or compartments, anything that he wouldn't want the servants to find. She could only just fit, the gap between the bed and the floor was so narrow.

"Abby. Don't get on the floor, it is dirty. I will do that."

"It is alright." The floor was covered with dust and she sneezed.

"I told thee. Come out from under there."

"I will, just a moment." There was something between two of the wooden slats, a long, thin object that she could feel but couldn't prise it out. "I have found something, but I can't reach it properly. There must be another way. Can you help me out, I'm stuck?"

Kane walked over and she could see his boots at the edge of the bed if she turned her head. She held her arms out in front of her and his hands appeared and grasped hers. He pulled her out from under the bed and she sat up. He shook his head as he looked at her. "Look at thee. Ye are covered in dust." He brushed her hair with his fingers, pulling long strands of dust from it and discarding them on the floor.

"There is something in the base of the bed, Marcus. We must be able to get to it another way because Alasdair could not possibly fit under there."

"Heavens no. Let us take the bedding off."

They stripped the sheets and featherbed to reveal the canvas straw-stuffed mattress. Abby couldn't lift it but Kane managed it easily, raising one part so they could look underneath. It was too dark to see so he flipped the mattress over and it landed on the floor on the opposite side of the bed. Now they could see that the bed was not constructed as usual. There were two sets of slats, one above the other and two wooden boxes nestled between them, narrow but deep. Kane pulled them both out and laid them on the slats. Kane and Abby knelt on the floor next to each other.

"Whatever is in these must be important," said Abby. "Alasdair would not go to so much trouble to hide them if it weren't."

"We shall find out." Kane lifted the lid on one of the boxes. Inside were jewels; rings, necklaces and brooches, some ornate, some plain and simple.

"I don't recognise any of these," said Abby, bringing out some of the jewels to inspect them.

"I do," replied Kane, a grim look on his face. He held up a gold locket, oval-shaped with a fleur-de-lis pattern engraved on it. "This belonged to my mother."

"Your mother? Are you sure?"

"Aye. There should be two locks of hair inside, one for James and one for me."

He handed the locket to Abby and she flipped open the delicate clasp. Kane was right; the locket contained two locks of hair, one dark and curled and the other lighter and straight. She was astonished.

"How?"

"James gave it to Alice on their wedding day."

"Oh no." Abby looked at the box. There were many items of jewellery in it, upwards of thirty. "You don't think?" She couldn't say the rest of the sentence.

Kane let out a shaky breath. He was trying to control his anger she could tell.

"I do. They're his trophies, Abby."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. All these women. How could I not know?"

She buried her face in her hands in despair, tears flowing through her fingers.

Kane pulled her to him. "It is not yer fault. He is good at hiding who he is."

"Not that good," she said between sobs. "All the servants know but they didn't tell me."

"They didn't want to hurt thee, as I didn't. They love you, Abby. They know what yer life is like with him."

Kane was trying to ease her pain but it was making her feel worse, and guilty, because she should be comforting him. He was the wronged party, he and his family. She pulled away from him, wiped her tears on her sleeve.

"We have to stop him."

"Aye. We will. Let us see what is in the other box."

The other box contained private papers, deeds to land and buildings, leases and covenants. Judging from these, Alasdair owned half of the Border country, but secretly, through a web of other Lairds, ones who had fallen on harder times perhaps, or who he promised other rewards in return for their land.

"There is nothing illegal here," said Kane. "Some subterfuge perhaps, but nothing that he wouldn't be able to talk his way out of."

Abby was disappointed. She had been so certain they would find something. He had to be involved in something illegal. It was his very nature. She started to put the jewels back in the box when she noticed a small loop of ribbon attached to the bottom. She emptied all the jewels out and pulled on the loop. What she had thought was the bottom of the box was in fact a lid, and when she removed it there were papers beneath, ones with the Royal seal upon them. Her stomach flipped, her hands grew sweaty.

"Marcus."

"Hmmm?" He did not look at her, too busy trying to put the other box back amongst the slats where he had found it.

"Look at this."

He turned then, and she handed him the papers. He was quiet while he read it and she watched his face, saw his eyes widen, his mouth drop slightly open, and she knew she had found the prize.

"These are deals, Abby, to buy the King's land."

"What is wrong with that?"

"Nothing, ordinarily. The papers with the seal on them, they are legitimate records of the sale of the land, but there are other papers here." He showed them to Abby and she came closer so she could see them. "These show that the land was valued at far more than Alasdair paid for it, and he had false papers drawn up to show a lesser value. He has defrauded the King."

"Oh!"

"Aye. This is treasonous."

"He will go to gaol if this becomes known?"

"More than that. He will be hanged. Treason is a capital offence. The King will make an example of him."

"Marcus."

"What?"

"You said we wouldn't kill him."

"And we will not. The King will do it for us!"

Kane was delighted with her find, it was all over his face, but Abby could not share his joy. The thought of sending Alasdair to the gallows, being responsible for his death filled her with fear, and sadness.

Kane noticed her reticence. "We have to answer for our sins, Abby. Look at these jewels, look at the women he has hurt, the lives he has ruined. He has beaten thee, made ye feel worthless. He does not deserve to live."

Abby knew he was right, but she couldn't shake the dread that had settled in her stomach.

"Are ye with me on this?"

She nodded, because really there was nothing else she could do. Kane was expecting her to say yes, and it was the wrong that had been done to him they were righting after all. She had to go through with it.

"Good. Let us put the chamber straight and get out of here. Time is drifting away."

They put everything they had disturbed back in its place, Kane even pushing the dust back under the bed as best he could. He had kept the necklace that had belonged to his mother. Abby saw him putting it into his pouch. Seeing that action helped strengthen her resolve. Alasdair had done so much wrong to so many people. All they had to do was expose him and then his punishment was up to the courts, and the King.

When they got back to her bedchamber they stripped their clothes off and got into bed. They didn't lay together, both of them too tired and overwrought from what they had found to feel desire, but they slept in each other's arms, skin to skin, needing the warmth and comfort it brought.

Abby was dozing, dreaming of the home she and Marcus would make together when she was free of Alasdair, when the door to her chamber banged open, startling her. She sat up and Kane did too. Her heart was in her mouth as she turned to see who had come into the chamber. It was Harper. The girl was standing there, the door wide open behind her, staring at Kane. Abby pulled the sheets up to cover her body.

"Harper!"

The maid dragged her eyes from Kane and looked at Abby.

"Mistress! Mister Sinclair is returned. He is coming to see thee."

"Now?"

"Aye."

Abby looked at Kane in horror. He leapt out of bed, stark naked, and went around the room, gathering his clothes and boots from the various locations he had discarded them just a short while before. Abby pulled her nightdress on and ran to the table, folding the cloth up with the food still in it and bundling it under the bed, together with the wine bottle and goblets. Harper was standing in the same spot, watching Kane as he dressed.

"Ye're the Grey Wolf."

"Aye."

"Ye are even more handsome than I thought."

Kane smiled. Abby sighed.

"Harper. Go and delay Sinclair. Tell him I am not yet dressed. He must wait."

"Aye, Mistress." She left. Abby looked at Kane.

"What are we going to do? You can't leave the tower."

"I could go up, to the next floor."

"What if Alasdair is with him? He may go straight to his chamber. There is no time. You'll have to hide."

There was a large cabinet on the far side of the room where her dresses were kept. Abby opened it, removed a plain dress to wear, and shoved Kane inside, closing the door on him and locking it before he could protest. She scanned the room, looking for anything they had missed. The papers they had stolen were on the chair and she gathered them up, hiding them in a drawer of her dressing table. Her eyes alighted on the bed. It was obvious to her that two people had slept in it. Both pillows had dents in them and the fur was folded back on both sides from when they had pushed the covers off and leapt out of the bed. She smoothed the fur down on Kane's side, took his pillow and put it under hers. That was all she had time to do before the door opened again and Sinclair entered, followed by Harper.

Abby was still dressed only in her night clothes. She pulled her cloak around her.

Sinclair bowed his head. "My Lady."

"Sinclair! What is so urgent? I am not fit to receive visitors."

"I am sorry, My Lady. I had thought ye would be up by now."

"I have not been well."

"Please forgive me."

As he was talking, Abby glanced to the far side of the room where an object was laying in the corner. It was Kane's pouch, his ballack knife hanging from it, glinting as the sun's rays landed on it. Abby felt sick. She moved so that Sinclair had his back to the area while he talked to her.

"What can I do for you?"

"Word reached me yesterday that ye were here, and not at Arkholm where I left thee. The guards said that ye had trouble, with the reivers."

"I did. I thought it best to come here, away from them."

"Ye have been here over a sevenday but ye did not send word to me. I told ye to tell me immediately the next time ye saw Marcus Kane."

Abby's chest grew tight, making it hard for her to breathe. "It was not Kane that I saw; it was others of his clan."

"Who?"

"I do not know their names."

"It doesn't matter who it was. If his clan was there, Kane was sure to be close."

"I have not seen him." Abby didn't know how the words were coming out of her mouth, how she could tell such a lie when Kane was hiding just a few feet away, and his belongings were in plain view in the corner of her chamber. She was certain Sinclair must see through her. He was looking at her closely.

"I wonder."

"What do you wonder?"

Sinclair rubbed his chin, and sighed. "Ye are a kind woman, My Lady. Too kind. Ye know he is a wanted man, that Lord Griffin means to hunt him down?"

Abby nodded, unsure where this was going. "He has said as much, yes."

"Then it would be a folly to protect Kane, to pretend he is not stalking this household when he clearly is."

"I do not understand what you are saying, Sinclair. Why would I protect him?" Abby was aghast at the turn this conversation had taken. What did Sinclair know? What was he trying to say to her?

"Because ye are kind, as I said, and ye don't want to see a man go to the gallows. But he is a bad man, My Lady. He is not worthy of yer pity. I beg thee to consider what I am saying."

"I know what kind of man he is, Sinclair."

"Good. Then think on my words, that is all I ask."

Abby nodded. While the conversation was ongoing, Harper had been looking around the room, and had spotted the pouch in the corner. She looked at Abby open-mouthed. Abby's nod was meant for Harper as well as Sinclair, to encourage the girl to try and hide the pouch. The maid edged back to the corner of the room as Sinclair continued.

"Lord Alasdair is most angry that ye didn't inform us, My Lady. I wanted to warn ye about that. He wants to see thee straight away."

"Is he here now?"

"No. I rode ahead, made an excuse that there were things I needed to prepare. He will be here around midday."

"Thank you. I appreciate your warnings, Sinclair."

"See that ye heed them this time."

He turned just as Harper stood over the pouch, her long skirts hiding it from his view. The maid bowed her head as Sinclair went past. Then she shut the door behind him.

They waited a few moments, standing looking at each other in silence, waiting to make sure Sinclair wasn't coming back.

"I think he is gone, Mistress."

Abby nodded, went over to the cabinet to let Kane out. He took a deep breath as he emerged. His face was red and sweaty.

"It was hot in there!"

"It was hot out here! Did you hear what Sinclair said?"

"Aye. He's a better man than I thought."

"He suspects something, Marcus."

"Nay. He understands thee better than ye think, that is all. He sees yer big heart."

Abby wasn't certain, but Kane seemed sure, and that eased her worries a little.

"Can ye go and watch the exit for me, Harper? I want to speak to yer mistress and then I have tae leave."

"Oh, aye." Harper beamed and left to do as Kane asked.

He took Abby's face in his hands, as he often did when he wanted to reassure her, or tell her something important.

"Yer husband is coming home."

She nodded.

"And ye're going to have to talk to him, spend time with him perhaps."

"I don't think I can, Marcus. Not after what we have seen."

"I know it's hard. I don't want ye anywhere near him, and if I could take ye away now, I would. Ye have to be strong, like I know ye are."

"What if he wants to lay with me? I can't bear the thought of it, but I can't refuse him."

"Tell him ye have yer monthly blood. He'll leave ye alone then, won't he?"

"Yes."

"Then do that. When he speaks to thee, say as little as possible, but stick to the truth as much as ye can. A lie works best when there's a grain of truth to it."

"I hate that ye know these things because of him, how he has made you live this life."

Kane gave her a wry smile. "Abby, I did a fair amount of lying and cheating before this happened. I am not a saint, ye know that."

"I know."

"I must go before it gets light." He kissed her, his arm wrapped around her neck in that possessive way he had. She slipped her hands up his back, feeling the muscles shifting as he leaned into the kiss, pressing her harder to him. At last they broke apart, although every nerve in her body was telling her to hold onto him, to not let him go.

"We're in this together," he said.

"Yes. Be careful. I am not convinced about Sinclair. He could be watching the door."

"It's a risk I will have tae take, but I don't think so. I will send Raven back to thee tomorrow."

"Oh, please do. I have missed her. When will I see you again?"

"I am not certain. I need to study the papers and work out what is best to do. I will send ye word through Raven." Kane went to the door, looked outside, then turned to Abby.

Abby smiled, even though inside she wanted to break apart. "'Til we meet again."

"Stay strong, my love."

"I will."

Kane left and Abby felt the loss of him straight away. She sat in her chair in front of the fireplace, which was cold, and tried not to worry about seeing Alasdair again, but it was difficult. She needed a distraction now that Kane had gone. She looked at the fire, at the pile of logs next to it. Perhaps she should try to make one up? She was sure she could work out how to do it. After all, humans had been setting fires for as long as history. How hard could it be?