"You can see there is. Fetch your mistress a cloth to wipe away her tears. Really, Brenna, you shouldn't cry in front of the servants. It's most unseemly. There isn't any need to carry on so. Accept that nothing can be done about it."
"Connor will put a stop to this madness," Brenna whispered.
"I doubt that, child. How can he? He's fully occupied protecting Hugh's followers at the moment. He cannot be in two places at the same time, and you cannot expect him to turn his back on defenseless men and women to go to England. Use your head."
"He went to pay his respects, not fight," Brenna argued. She was desperately trying to concentrate on what Euphemia was telling her, but was in such a panic inside for her little sister's safety, she could barely think about anything else.
"It seems MacNare isn't paying his respects. He's waging a war to get Hugh's land before Connor does. The holding sits between the two and would give one a certain advantage over the other."
"How could you know all this?" Brenna asked.
"I heard some of the soldiers talking about the conflict. All of the MacAlisters know what's happening, even the servants, but you haven't been accepted yet, have you? Perhaps that is why you were left in the dark. Where is Netta? It's taking her entirely too long to fetch a cloth for you. If I were not preparing to leave here, I would have her replaced."
"Netta?" Brenna asked, trying to understand what she was talking about.
"Try to pay attention, Brenna. As for your sister, I think you should simply put her out of your mind. There isn't anything to be done about her."
"But Connor could talk to my father…"
"How can you want Connor to go to your father? Surely you realize one would have to kill the other. After all, your husband did start this when he took you away from MacNare. Your sister's fate has been sealed, and neither you nor Connor can stop the marriage. Forget about her," she added. "Or offer a prayer for her if that will make you feel better."
"Yes, I'll offer a prayer," Brenna answered.
She stood up, bowed to her stepmother, and turned to leave. Netta came running in through the back hall with the cloth Euphemia had ordered.
"I hope by the time you return, you'll be in control again," Euphemia said. "I noticed last night everyone enjoyed the food served. Will you admit now that I was right to change the cooks?"
Brenna stared at the woman in disbelief. Why in God's name did she want to talk about food now?
Netta thought Brenna didn't remember her plan to pretend to replace Ada and hurried to nudge her memory before she said something she shouldn't.
"You had Ada replaced, mi'lady. Remember?"
"Yes, I remember," she answered in a strained whisper.
"Go along now," Euphemia ordered. "It distresses me to see you in such a pitiful condition."
Brenna ran outside before she realized she should have gone up to her bedroom so that she would have complete privacy. She wasn't about to go back inside, because she knew if Euphemia said one more word to her before her panic was under control, she would start screaming and never stop.
She reached the seclusion of the trees, fell to her knees, and broke into heart-wrenching sobs.
Connor… Dear God, how she needed Connor. He would know what to do, and he was strong enough and powerful enough to take on the devil himself.
But how could she ask such a thing of him? Others depended upon him now for their survival. She knew Euphemia hadn't exaggerated the threat to Hugh's followers. Brenna remembered what had happened to her father's soldiers and her own sweet Gilly and knew without a doubt that MacNare would slaughter the peace-loving clan without a moment's hesitation.
If Connor was able to go, would she be sending him to his death? Or would he be forced to kill her father?
No, she couldn't send her husband. Who else could she send to stop this madness?
Greed. It all began and ended with greed. Her father had struck this bargain to gain an alliance, just as MacNare had, and neither man had considered what the ramifications would be. Consumed with lust for power, their greed controlled their minds and their hearts, leaving the innocents to be preyed upon.
But not Faith. Brenna would die before she would let MacNare touch her sister. Please, God, help me think of someone to… help me… help me.
Sobbing, she bowed her head and clasped her hands to her heart, and in that dark moment of desolation, her prayer was answered.
There was another she could send, the man who had taken her hand and vowed to do anything she asked of him, who was even stronger than Connor. He wouldn't deny her.
The war had begun.
Connor stood on the rise above Hugh's keep, his gaze directed on the hills beyond, his thoughts centered on the past as he once again searched for the answer that had eluded him for many years.
Quinlan joined him a few minutes later. "MacNare's playing a game with us, Connor. What's his real purpose?"
"He wants to keep us busy defending the border between his land and Hugh's until his allies join him."
"Surely he knows you've done the same thing."
"He knows. He's deliberately sacrificing the small number of soldiers he sends on each attack, knowing full well they'll all die, but this land isn't his immediate goal. He can easily claim it after he attacks me."
"Do you think the soldier was telling the truth about your wife's sister, or was that just another ploy to divide our forces?"
"Dying men usually tell the truth. It doesn't really matter though. I must still make certain Faith is protected from MacNare."
Quinlan silently agreed. "You've waited a long time for this day to come. I have a feeling you'll be able to claim your father's sword from Kincaid and end this once and for all."
Connor turned to him. "But why now? What does MacNare know that I don't? We could destroy him and his allies. He isn't a fool; he knows our numbers. Why would a coward who all these years has only provoked me with small, insignificant attacks, suddenly become so aggressive?"
"I don't have an answer for you, but I do know you can't be everywhere at once. I wish to God we could end it tomorrow. Attack his holding before he attacks us."
"Be patient, Quinlan. I'm not going to put any of the MacAlisters in jeopardy. I'm taking every precaution in the meantime. God willing, any day now I will find out who the others are before I'm forced to kill MacNare."
"You think someone else is controlling MacNare?"
"I do," he answered. "Whoever he is, he's damned clever."
"What about Faith? You can't go into England now."
"No, but you can. Leave at dawn tomorrow and take ten others with you. This could be a trap," he warned.
"Of course," Quinlan agreed. "What am I to do with the woman once I have her?"
"Do whatever you wish to do, as long as she remains safe," he answered.
Connor's smile confused his friend. "What are you thinking?" he asked.
"It's about time you got married, isn't it?"
The border attacks intensified, and even though it took very little effort to maintain his position, Connor was still required to stay away from his holding much longer than he had anticipated.
He slept a few hours each day, and used the cover of darkness at night to move Hugh's followers to safety. If all continued to go according to his schedule, every man, woman, and child would be well-hidden from MacNare's clutches in just two more days. He had met with resistance from some of the older men, and only after he had promised on the soul of his father that they would all be able to return to their land as soon as the conflict was finished, did he gain their cooperation.
The rest was up to his brother, Alec. Connor would wait for as long as he dared while Alec tried to find out who was in league with MacNare; yet as the days lengthened into a full week, it became apparent the truth would continue to elude him.