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looked more pleased. “I’ve been using a new lotion,” she confided, as if conferring a great secret.
    â€œWhatever it is, you look all of twenty-two years of age, and I— Oh! I almost forgot.” He reached into his pocket and turned back to Ailsa. “I found this under a rock by the front door. It’s addressed to you, so I assumed you’d want it. It must be a bill of lading, left by some careless tradesman. I wonder that MacGill did not already see it.”
    Ailsa stared at the envelope resting in Gregor’s hand. Dirty and creased, her name was scrawled overthe crinkled paper. She took the note, a tremor passing through her fingers. The ransom request. It can be nothing else.
    Aware of Gregor’s curious gaze, she forced a smile. “Of course. It must be for the coal. You know how much we use at this castle.”
    â€œI shudder to think of it.” He turned to address an idle remark to Lady Edana, and Ailsa was left with the note.
    She opened it quickly.
    Bring two hundred guineas to the Iron Kettle in Kylestrome. The prisoners will be released to you forthwith.
    That was all. The handwriting was awkwardly slanted, as if someone had used his or her weaker hand in an effort to disguise their handwriting.
    She pursed her lips. Forthwith, hmm? And not a misspelling to be seen. Whoever wrote this is educated.
    The village of Kylestrome was in the very northern outreaches of Mackenzie land, in the direction the abductors were taking the prisoners, so that made sense. But why is the note addressed to me and not Arran? It’s his brother who was taken, after all. And everyone knows Arran has more funds than all the Mackenzies put together. Perhaps Arran is trying to distance himself from the abduction in order to appear innocent of subterfuge?
    She frowned. She hadn’t expected a ransom note—indeed, she could have saved Greer the trouble of tracking the abductors had she thought they’d offer a chance to purchase the freedom of their captives. Perhaps this isn’t an attempt to cause a clan war at all, but a simple caseof greed. But only two hundred guineas? Why not more? Or is it— Blast it, I’m more confused than ever.
    Her shoulders slumped as her thoughts swirled and then tangled. She’d been so sure Arran had been behind this abduction and now, in one second, her beliefs had been put into question. How do I make decisions for the good of all when I don’t know enough about—
    â€œAilsa?”
    She blinked at Gregor and realized she’d been staring at the note for far too long. “Oh. I’m sorry.” She forced a smile and folded the note in half. “I was doing sums in my head.” She placed the note on the corner of her desk. “You know how distracting that can be.” Before he could comment further, she asked, “So what’s brought you to us? I thought you were wintering with the Earl of Argyll.”
    â€œAy, yes. Argyll.” A shadow crossed Gregor’s face as he turned toward the fire, where he held out his hands to the warming blaze. “I left, and rather abruptly, too. I’m sorry I didn’t send word I was coming, but there was no time. I rode here; my coach and things should arrive shortly.”
    Ailsa shrugged. “You are always welcome here; you know that.”
    â€œOf course he is,” Lady Edana said firmly. “But still, you must tell us about your visit with Argyll.”
    Gregor looked bored. “There’s not much to tell. He’s devilishly short-tempered and dresses like a merchant.”
    â€œYes, yes, but his daughter.” Lady Edana leaned out to grasp Gregor’s hand as if to hold him in place. “What about her ?”
    Gregor flushed as he gently freed his hand from Lady Edana’s. “Ah yes. The most worthy Lady Agnes, of whom I’d heard much, turned out to be as pretty as a flattened mushroom and as intriguing as a dried