Megan and Brenna rushed to assist the wounded lad.
Morgan Grey looked beyond them to old Mora, who stood on the steps just inside the castle doors, wringing her hands.
"Take your mistress upstairs and see that she is dressed in something warm and comfortable for the journey."
"Aye, my lord."
Brenna looked up from her place beside Hamish.
"My men will never..."
"Your men will do as I command." He called out to Alden, his second in command, who came forward leading Duncan MacAlpin, still dressed in his nightclothes. The old man's face was flushed with embarrassment.
"Forgive me, my lady. The villains invaded my sleeping chamber. They are holding my Mary prisoner."
Brenna glanced up and saw the old woman standing stiffly on her balcony. An English soldier stood behind her. Mom- ing sunlight glinted on the knife at her throat.
"So this is your mission of peace."
At Brenna's angry words, Megan pulled the dirk from her waistband and leaped at Morgan Grey. Instantly Brenna wrapped her arms around Megan, pinning her arms at her sides. It took all of Brenna's strength to contain the fury in the girl.
"He humiliates us, degrades us and threatens to take you by force. Why do you stop me?"
"Because I love you," Brenna whispered furiously.
"Because I cannot allow my foolish trust of the man to cost the life of the sister I love more than life itself."
"If you love me, let me kill him."
"Nay." Brenna continued to hold her sister until the knife dropped from her fingers. Then she turned her into her arms and allowed her to weep out all her fears and frustration.
Morgan watched without emotion. When the girl's tears had been stemmed, he said quietly, "Go with your nurse. Dress quickly. We have wasted enough time."
With a last hateful look at her enemy, Brenna turned, keeping her arms firmly around her younger sister as the two followed Morna up the stairs.
When they were safely in her chambers, Brenna released Megan.
Instantly the young girl flew into a rage.
"Why did you not permit me to attack that villain?"
"Megan." Brenna caught her sister by the hand.
"I implore you to listen to me. You are a very brave lass. And I love you dearly. But you and I are no match for a man like Morgan Grey."
"How can you calmly allow him to take you away from all you love?"
"I have no intention of giving in to that madman."
"But why..."
Brenna touched a finger to her lips. Both Megan and old Morna gave her their complete attention.
"Do you remember how we used to climb the castle walls when we were children?"
Megan nodded.
"Mother used to say her heart stopped each time she discovered our little prank."
Brenna turned to her old nurse.
"You must delay for as long as you can. When Morgan Grey finally loses patience, stand back and force him to break down the door. That should give us enough time to climb down and cross the River Tweed. Once across, we will make our way to the Highlands."
"And the safety of Brice Campbell's protection," Megan said with sudden understanding.
"Aye." Brenna began stripping away the filmy gown she had worn to celebrate the retreat of the English.
"Hurry, Megan. We must dress quickly and be on our way."
"You have no horses, lass," Mora moaned.
"How can you go all that distance on foot?"
"Once in the forest we can enlist the aid of the Highlanders. They know of our relationship to Brice Campbell. They will come to our aid."
"They are a strange breed, lass. They would just as leave kill you as help you."
"Not if we explain that we are running from the English. They do not forget old grudges. Besides," Brenna said as she pulled on a heavy woolen cloak lined with ermine, "I would rather die in Scotland at the hands of the Highlanders than in England at the hands of Morgan Grey."
"He would not kill you, lass, only hand you over to his queen."
"Aye. To be wed to some hated Englishman. That would be worse than death."
When at last the two young women climbed over the balcony and began making their way down the uneven stone wall of the castle, old Morna stood watching, her lips moving in prayer.
"Godspeed," she called. She lifted tear-clouded eyes to scan the forested peaks in the distance. Safety was so far away. And yet it was their only chance to elude the man who waited below to steal away her beloved mistress.
The English soldiers allowed old Duncan to assist Hamish in stemming the flow of blood from his shoulder. While they worked, Morgan Grey paced the courtyard. He had originally intended to go with Brenna and see to her hasty arrangements. But after witnessing the emotional outburst of her younger sister, he had changed his plans. He would allow them a few minutes alone. There was much they would have to say to one another.
His men stood beside their horses as the sun climbed higher in the sky.
Morgan cursed this peculiar trait in women that caused them to take hours to do what a man could do in only minutes. What was the damnable woman doing? Packing the entire contents of her wardrobe? He glanced around. How many additional beasts would it take to transport all that she was bringing?
He would be firm. He would personally inspect every trunk and insist that she leave behind all except the most necessary items. Like all women, she would weep and wail and beg to be allowed to take all her silly frills to England. But in the end he would prevail.
He paced again, the length of the courtyard and back. He had been patient long enough. Exasperated, he charged through the doorway and up the stairs.
"I can give you no more time, my lady," he called through the closed door.