“Ye will lose your tongue and maybe your head before that happens. James will believe that Cain Sinclair was so outraged with ye and your secrets that he went crazy like his own father and killed you in his fury. The legends around the Sons of Sinclair will easily back up the story.” Randolph walked over to the table where two goblets sat and picked them up. He turned back to her, his face relaxed as if they were talking casually at a celebration. “So ye see, Lady Sutherland, we will be wed this day.” He brought her the goblet. “A toast to our union.”

Would he drug her? Not before she took her vows before the pastor and witnesses. She should have grabbed the poison Kenneth had sent. She looked to the pastor, his pale face showing that he was clever enough to know his own life was forfeit after hearing Randolph’s plans.

He was another whose life depended on her cleverness today, along with her brother’s and all the lives of the Sinclairs. Surely the king would send troops to subdue them if Randolph made him believe that her brother’s blood was on Sinclair hands.

Would Cain ride against her people instead of coming to find her? The thought churned tightly in her chest until she felt she might sob. He will come. He must come. Surely there was feeling for her after what they had shared. He will come.

“Pastor John!” Randolph yelled, and the men practically carried the clergyman closer.

“I am heartily sorry,” he said, staring at Ella as he righted his robes, cutting a frown to the guards. “God in Heaven will sort this out.”

Ella preferred to save them from attending that particular meeting, at least until they were old and withered. If she agreed to wed Randolph, she could save Jamie for a while, maybe long enough to secret him away. Either way, though, the young pastor’s breaths were numbered.

“No reason to be sorry,” Randolph said. “Today Arabella Sutherland honors her sire’s proposal to bind the Mackay and Sutherland Clans together to form a strong union against the bloodthirsty Sinclairs. We will feast tonight and plan our return to Dunrobin tomorrow once your steward shows up to congratulate us.”

The man was insane, and Ella needed to delay. “What of Viola Finley?” Ella asked. “Who is she to betray the Sinclairs?” There were more playing pieces in this mad game of conquest. Could Cain guess them all and find a way to call checkmate on Randolph?

“Ah, Viola,” he said and shoved the goblet into her hand. “My dearest sister is right now on her way here.”

“Sister?” Ella asked, noticing the similar set of small eyes and tipped noses in them both. “How did she come to live at Girnigoe?”