Greenweld raised an eyebrow at Allistair. The Scot frowned slightly, then understanding came to his face and he sighed. "The fire. I have not seen the room since the fire. He may be right."
Grunting his disgust at that, Greenweld set the man reluctantly down, propping his clenched fists on his hips as he questioned him. "He claimed the passage is straight with no side trails to confuse a body; is that true?"
"Aye. 'Tis good it is, too, for things happened so quick, I did not manage to collect a torch on the way. 'Twas black as pitch in there. I had to feel my way out."
Greenweld frowned at that. "We shall need torches then. I shall take half my men and go in through the passage. The rest will continue to work on the new mangonel so that those inside do not suspect anything."
Iliana glanced toward the man named Hugh, fully expecting him to inform Greenweld that their leave-taking had been witnessed, and that the passage was most likely blocked by now. It seemed he was not eager to pass on that news, however, for he stood, pale, trembling, and as silent as stone, his eyes locked warily on Greenweld's fists as he eased carefully step after step away from him. Her gaze slid to Allistair as he nodded in agreement with Greenweld's plans.
"You'd best move quickly. 'Twill not take long fer them to notice Iliana missing."
"Aye. Take her to my tent and keep her out of sight. I shall order the men to make up torches."
Turning away, he left the clearing, and Iliana felt herself relax somewhat. While Allistair was a traitor to his own blood kin, at least he seemed unwilling to beat her. He had stopped the man from hitting her. That gave her some hope that there was a drop or two of humanity left in him. Mayhap she could persuade him to switch sides again.
"Come." Taking her arm, Allistair urged her from the small clearing, leading her through thick woods to the temporary camp they had set up. There were three tents huddled close together beneath the trees. Allistair ushered her inside the largest one.
Pushing her in the general direction of a pallet set up along one side of the tent, he moved to a small table against the opposite wall and grabbed a dented and tarnished mug from the tabletop. Dipping it into the open barrel of ale beside it, he raised the mug to his lips and turned to eye her over the top of it as he drank.
After glancing with disgust at the rumpled pallet, Iliana had decided she would prefer to stand. She faced him, waiting warily for what came next. At first, nothing happened. Allistair leaned against the wobbly table and continued to drink, eyeing her thoughtfully as he did, but after several moments he spoke.
"What meant you when you said mayhap you were not surprised?" The very casualness of his tone told her that her answer was important to him.
"Just what I said. I was not surprised."
His mouth tightened and he straightened impatiently. "Why?"
"Because it was you who tried to kill me that night in the bedchamber."
He paled at her words, and Iliana nearly sighed her disappointment aloud. She had been hoping she was wrong, that selling out to Greenweld was his only sin. But from the moment when Elgin had awoken her that morning, she had been fretting over the fact that her attacker had worn a plaid. And when she had found herself confronted by Allistair in the clearing, she had feared that he was the answer to everything that had been happening of late. She had not wanted to believe it. He was Duncan's cousin. He'd shown his affection for Seonaid openly. How could he betray them like this? Why?
"Ye kenned it was me that night?" The horror on his face gave way to sudden suspicion. "Nay. Had ye kenned that, ye would have tol' Duncan and he would have killed me."
"I did not at first recognize that it was you. It was not until this morning that I recalled that my attacker that night had worn a plaid," she explained grimly, her anger finally coming to life. "Now, will you tell me why you would join with Greenweld to see my mother dead? She has done naught to you."
He waved her words away. "She was never really my target at all. Duncan was."
Iliana peered at him blankly. "But the night I was attacked--"
"I meant to kill Duncan."
"But how did you know my mother--?"
"Was no longer sleeping there?" He smiled slightly. "I sat next to you at dinner. Don't ye recall? I was on yer left, yer mother on yer right. I heard every word she said to ye that night. And one of the last things she said was that she was vacating yer room so that ye and yer husband could get to ken each other better. It was too perfect. No one else would ken that. They would all assume that the attack had been meant for Lady Wildwood." When Iliana merely continued to stare at him blankly, he shook his head with mild disgust.
"Ye still don't understand, do ye? Ye disappoint me. I had not thought ye just another stupid Sassenach female. Think. Had I merely set out to kill Duncan...well, and sure enough it wouldn't have been hard to deduce who the culprit was. After all, why would anyone kill Duncan? The only reason to do that was to--"
"Take his place as heir," Iliana realized suddenly as the answer clicked into place in her head.
"There ye are! Now yer thinkin'," he applauded.
"But you are his cousin," she protested at once. "His blood kin."
"Aye." He nodded calmly. "His father and mine were brothers, but mine was the younger. That small fact cut me out from inheriting. So long as Duncan lived."
Iliana shook her head at his deliberate misunderstanding of her meaning. "His father took you in. He raised you alongside his own children. He--"
"Tossed us crumbs from his table," Allistair inserted coldly. "It was charity and we were never allowed to ferget that."
"Surely Duncan and his father would never--"
"Oh, they never said as much. But others did, and the great Dunbars let us ken in other ways. Fer instance, Duncan and Seonaid, as children of their father, had rooms o' their own in the castle. Do ye ken where we slept?"
Iliana blinked at that. "Nay."
"In Giorsal's cottage. She was our mother's sister and we lived with her. Oh aye, we took all our meals with the great laird and his wondrous children, but we were not good enough to sleep under his roof with them."
Iliana blanched and shook her head in confusion. That did not sound like the Angus Dunbar she knew.
"Ye don't believe me." He smiled slightly. "Well, ye can be askin' yer wondrous husband about it when he gets here."
"Gets here?" Iliana's eyes widened in alarm.
"Aye. I told ye ye weren't the target and yer not, not fer me and not fer Greenweld. 'Tis yer mother and Duncan who are really the ones we would see dead. 'Tis just unfortunate ye got in the way. And that ye ken too much."
Unwilling to consider the meaning behind his words, Iliana ignored them and muttered, "Duncan will not come."
"Aye. He will. When he gets to Colquhoun he will find out the message was a fake. If he doesn't get hisself killed by attacking the Colquhouns without reason, he shall return. When he does, it'll be to find ye've been taken. He'll come fer ye."
"Nay." Iliana shook her head.
"Aye. I ken me cousin. He'll come fer ye."
"If ye heard so much that night at the table, then you also heard that all is not well between my husband and myself. The reason he was not in our room the night you came for him was because he was with his mistress--"
"Aye. Kelly's also my mistress," he told her with amusement, giving a name to the faceless woman her husband had gone to that night. "Another one o' the great Dunbar crumbs that I'm allowed to feed on. I ken he was with her that night. She told me all about it. It seems ye've ruined him. He couldn't mount her no matter her tricks."
Iliana was not sure whether she should be grateful at this news or not. On the one hand, her heart nearly soared at the knowledge that Duncan had not been unfaithful to her. On the other, it made convincing Allistair that Duncan would not come for her that much harder. Especially since she herself very much feared he might do just that. She had learned a great many things about her husband in the time they had been together. Not l
east of which was the fact that he took his duty to his people very seriously. He would indeed come for her. And when he did, they would both be dead, for he had no idea of his cousin's treachery.
"Once Duncan is dead, I shall be clan chief."
Iliana stiffened at those satisfied words. "You are forgetting Angus."
"I forget nothing. Angus is old. Once he acknowledges me as his heir, 'twill be little enough trouble to see he has an accident."
"What of Seonaid?"
A slow smile spread across his lips at the question. "Ah, sweet Seonaid. She will be my wife and rule beside me. She's a good woman, my Seonaid. I've loved her all me life. Never met another woman like her. Strong. Fast. Cunning--"
"And she loves her brother," Iliana pointed out dryly. "I am sure she will not be pleased to learn who his killer is."
"She will never ken. No one will but ye and Duncan, and neither of ye shall be alive to tell. I will comfort her in her sorrow and arrange the wedding as quickly as possible."
Iliana gave a disgusted snort that brought Allistair's irritated eyes to her at once. "Have you forgotten Sherwell? It seems to me you have gotten things in rather a muddle. With Duncan dead, Seonaid shall be heir to Dunbar, and when she marries Sherwell, he will be laird here."
"That wedding shall never take place," Allistair snapped. "Greenweld will see to that."
Iliana felt a chill go up her back at that news. "And what must you do to earn that favor from Greenweld?"
"What do you think?"
"My mother?" she asked faintly.
"Aye. Unfortunately, she'll not live to see me acknowledged as heir, but so be it."
"So be it?" Iliana echoed faintly. "Are you mad? Your plan cannot possibly work. Angus will not name his son's killer his heir."
"He will not ken--"
"So you keep saying," she snapped impatiently. "Seonaid will not ken, Angus will not ken, and Duncan will not ken 'til 'tis too late. Yet if I, a stupid Sassenach female," she threw the words back at him sarcastically, "if I can figure it out, they will also."
When Allistair stilled at that, Iliana nodded with satisfaction. "You left many clues. All it needs is piecing together."
"I left no clues," he denied with a frown.