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Isla hadn’t seen Alisdair or Ewan all day, and since her brother-in-law had been practically shadowing her the day before, that alone told her something was wrong.

It was when she saw a seasoned warrior ride up to the castle that she knew Alisdair was preparing for something. Something involving her uncle.

She left the drop spindle in the basket and got up. She needed to be there.

“Me Lady?” The other women who were spinning with her looked up at her.

She smiled reassuringly and left for Alisdair’s study. She stepped into the room without knocking. Everyone froze.

It was Duncan who looked up first, smirking at the sight of her. Alisdair straightened from where he had been bent over the table.

Isla’s eyes went to the map weighed down in front of them. She had been right; they were planning an attack.

“Get out, Isla!”

It was Ewan who issued the order. He was looking at her with a dark scowl on his face, one that she knew well.

“What are ye plannin’?” she demanded.

“None of yer business,” Ewan sneered.

Alisdair struck the table with his palm, and everyone fell silent.

“What are ye doing, Isla?” he demanded.

“Me job.”

“Yer job is to spin the wool for the winter,” he gritted out.

Isla stepped forward and looked down at the map.

“Her job is to spy on us, and she is doing a fine job so far,” Ewan accused.

“I think I have warned ye enough,” Alisdair growled.

Isla ignored them and studied the map and the notes. She frowned.

“And I have warned her. Ye are lettin’ a Sinclair in our war council. She will send a nice little report to her uncle just because ye’re tangled in her⁠—”

“Ewan!”

“Ye are riskin’ all our lives if⁠—”

“This information is wrong.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Isla had managed to bring the war council to a halt. Everyone turned to look at her as she frowned down at the map.

“Ye plan to attack Clan Chattan. But ye are wrong.”

“Of course she would dissuade us from attacking her uncle’s allies.”

Isla looked at Ewan, unfazed. “Me uncle hasnae the coin to keep a war with the Chattans nae the men. Especially with his debts.”

“Debts?” Alisdair echoed, surprised.

She nodded. “Aye. Me uncle tried to buy a feudal charter from the Crown by bribing officials. Instead, he got outsmarted and extorted. The government officials blackmailed him to keep the effort under wraps, and their demands are bleeding him dry.”

Jaws dropped around the room.