Angus made a strangled sound of assent, and Fraser nodded, moving his foot and allowing him to rise. Rab hurried forward, holding out a folded tartan cloth.

“The winner’s sash, my laird.”

“The lad won the race fair and square. The title is his.” Fraser stalked away into the castle.

The gathering and the games were over, the clans’ folk returned to their own homes. No promises of marriage had been exchanged, and several young ladies departed with stormy expressions. Young Brenna’s face, as she bade Fraser farewell, was positively sulky. He breathed a sigh of relief as he returned to the Tower House. He wanted a few days of peace and normality in which to gather his thoughts. It was also time to prepare in earnest for the fray.

The day after the games ended, however, normality was interrupted when a lone rider approached the castle. Upon being asked his business, he requested a meeting with the laird. Since his accent was English and his bearing was that of a military man, he was regarded with suspicion. Fraser, nevertheless, agreed to see him.

“I come from Fort William,” the visitor said on being shown into the great hall, where Fraser, together with Jack, awaited him.

“Then ye’re either very brave or very foolish,” Fraser said. “Your name?”

“Not important. You may call me Edwin.”

“State your business, Edwin.” He and Jack were seated on one side of a long table, and Fraser gestured for the visitor to take a seat opposite.

“It has come to the attention of certain high-ranking officials that you, Fraser Lachlan, have not been entirely in agreement with the prince over his battle plans. Indeed, it has been suggested that you have publicly challenged him.”

Fraser’s eyes flicked across to Jack’s face and read confirmation there that they were both thinking the same thing. It was what they had long suspected. There was a spy in the Jacobite high command. “Since nothing I do or say can be of any concern to you, or anyone at Fort William, I’ll not confirm or deny the truth of your words. I will merely request again that you state your business here.”

“My business, put bluntly, is this. You are a well-respected chieftain, one whose word carries great weight among the other clansmen. If you were to make it known that you have no wish to fight…”

“Ye’d have me do Cumberland’s dirty work, is that it?” Fraser asked, rising to his feet and looming over the other man.

Edwin shook his head. “I’d have you do the right thing by your own people. This is a fight you can’t win.”

“Ye’d best leave now, friend Edwin,” Fraser said. “We can have no more to say to one another.”

“Very well. But remember this, my laird. Your value is known to the English commanders. The door is open should you wish to talk.” Edwin paused at the door. “Oh, one more thing. Three years ago a captain, name of Hendry, was killed at Fort William.”

Fraser regarded him calmly. “Why do you tell me this?”

“No particular reason. Only that, when Hendry was killed, a reward was offered for any man who could provide information that would bring his murderer to the gallows. My superiors have asked me to let you know that they are prepared to pardon Hendry’s killer in return for your cooperation.” He bowed and left.

“Damned Hanoverian cur,” Jack muttered. He cast a sidelong glance at Fraser. “His words have troubled you, my friend.”

“Aye.” Fraser moved to the table where a glass decanter and two glasses had been set out. He poured two glasses of whisky and brought one over to Jack. Dashing the contents of his own off before he spoke, he measured his words carefully. “He has a point. Can we win this, Lord Jack?”

Jack sipped his own drink thoughtfully. “Oh, to the devil with you, Fraser. I don’t know. Would you cry off?” Fraser didn’t reply. “For the love of God, man, would you?”

“You know me better than to ask would I cry off from a fight. But you also know me better than to think I would lead good men, men who depend on me, into a fight they’ve no chance of seeing the other side of. Not without asking a few questions of my own first. I’m no English lackey, Lord Jack, but nor am I blind to the prince’s faults. There is no money left for this campaign. The English navy are vigilant along the coasts, and supply ships from France are either captured or forced to turn back because they are prevented from landing. The prince’s advisors have suggested that the highlanders should carry out raids on the lowlands to replenish the coffers. But that merely illustrates their woeful lack of understanding of the situation. Our numbers are already sorely depleted. We cannot spare the men to conduct such raids.” Fraser’s tone was rife with frustration as he paced back and forth before the fire in the great hall.

“You are right, as always. I fear as well that the prince is being deliberately provided with misleading intelligence, and our friend Edwin’s words seem to confirm that. I cannot believe that Cumberland’s force is as small as has been reported by the men who call themselves our spies. Cumberland is a wily general, he is not a fool. He will not have come here so ill-prepared. I am afraid there are double agents at work, but our leaders will not acknowledge it.” Jack, although sharing his friend’s annoyance, was content to remain in his seat.

Fraser paused, frowning down into the fire. When he raised his head, there was a new determination in his expression. It was not in his nature to remain idle and allow others to decide his fate. “Then I will provide the prince with new intelligence. ’Tis tired I am of sitting around a table, listening to speculation. I will see Cumberland’s force for myself, my Lord Jack. And I’ll do it this very night.”

“What do you propose?”

“I’ll take a small party of my best men out to scout around Cumberland’s camp, count his men and bring back any information we can about the true nature of his force. Aye, and if we can do him any damage in the process, then so we will. Are ye with me?” Fraser asked.

“Can you doubt it? Let us prepare at once,” Jack said, rising to his feet.

The castle had bustled into life as the men prepared for the night mission. Martha did her best to blend back into the shadows, trying to cope with these new emotions. The discovery that I love him is so new, she thought sadly. I am still learning to manage the intensity of that feeling, while keeping it hidden. Must I also now add into the mix the fear of losing him?

She was making her way along the corridor to her bedchamber when, to her surprise, Fraser strode toward her. Heedless of who else might be around, he pushed her hard up against the wall, no gentleness in his actions.

“I need ye woeful bad right now, lass.” He groaned the words into her lips.

“Then take me.” Something in their relationship had changed after the night of the clan gathering. He might have been the one administering the chastisement, but they both knew he had admitted—without resorting to words—how much he needed her too.

He laughed, shaking his head regretfully. “We must be away within the half hour. I’ve no time to even get my boots off.”

“Leave them on.” Her eyes challenged him. She knew he liked this side of her. The fact that she could look so prim and proper, yet say something so brazen, drove him instantly into a frenzy. If she was honest, she liked this side of her too. Although she had only just discovered it.

Fraser moved slightly away from her, and her breath caught in disappointment until he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, driving the air from her lungs. When they reached her bedchamber, he kicked the door closed behind him before dropping her onto the bed. Fraser gripped the backs of her calves and pulled her forcefully toward him so that the back of her head slammed into the pillows. She was flat on her back, struggling to regain the ability breathe normally, as he hauled her skirts up to her waist. Parting her legs, he held her thighs open. Martha squeezed her eyes shut in delicious anticipation. He lowered his head and, without hesitation, began to feast on her, his tongue dipping, sliding, sucking and then piercing her until she was thrashing and calling out in ecstasy.