“Definitely not tall. She was short”—the monk stood and held up his hand to the middle of his chest—“about here. And definitely on the plump side.”

Alex held his breath. His entire body seemed poised on the edge of a precipice. Joan was tall for a woman and slender. “Are you sure?”

“Aye.” The monk seemed to sense the importance. “Do you know her?”

Alex shook his head and breathed a sigh of relief. “Nay. I don’t know her.”

And he’d never been so relieved about anything in his life.

This time when Alex returned to his room, he did collapse on the bed, and he didn’t need the whisky to help him fall asleep.

God, give her strength. She could do this.

Joan drew a deep breath as she stood outside the door. A few minutes, that was all. All she had to do was pretend for a few minutes. The powder would do its job, she would destroy the seal, and her cousin would be safe.

She still couldn’t believe it. Not only had Margaret been sending information to Bruce, but she had also guessed Joan’s secret. “You remember, cousin,” she said. “I know you. I knew you as a girl, and I know you could not have changed that much. I know you were more interested in the war than you appeared, and I know you would not be with all those men without a reason. I also know how much you loved your mother.”

Joan had been stunned silent.

Margaret, it seemed, hadn’t accepted the broken engagement with the Earl of Ross’s son. She and John were in love and hoped to marry once the war was over. So she passed information to the monk when she could to help the man she loved.

She’d only started recently. The idea had come to her when she thought Alice was getting suspicious of Joan. She thought two spies would confuse them, especially as she was at a separate castle at the time.

But her cousin had made a mistake. In a romantic gesture, Margaret had used the imprint of a betrothal ring John had given her to seal the missive, and she feared that if Sir Henry saw it, he would recognize it. So Joan was here to destroy the evidence and prevent her cousin from being arrested as the spy.

Simple.

But it wasn’t simple at all. It was Alex.

Without any more hesitation, Joan knocked, trying to ignore the way her hand shook.

She’d done this before; she could do it again.

But then the door opened and her stomach, heart, whatever else was in her chest, slammed to the floor. Dear God. She would have swallowed, but her mouth was too dry.