Page 78 of Sins of a Scot
“We’ll settle ourselves here. We have a good view of the cottage. We’ll see him when he returns.”
The hours ran on, the sun above them crossing the sky slowly as time seemed to stand still. While Owen was used to holing up in places for long periods of time, for he had done so on many scouting missions before, Iseabail was getting more and more restless.
“He may never return,” she hissed, after they had been there for almost four hours. “He could be away fer weeks, and here we are, watching an empty cottage.”
Putting a calming hand out toward her, Owen said, “All will be well, Iseabail. I ken this is hard. I ken ye’re impatient tae help yer faither and braither, but this is the best lead we’ve had so far. There is naewhere else fer us tae be right now. I need ye tae trust me.”
“I dae trust ye,” she sulked. “I’m just tired o’ all this waiting.”
“I ken. But it is the way it has tae be.”
Another hour was just coming to a close when Owen heard movement nearby. Someone was approaching, and immediately, he turned to Iseabail, pressing his fingers to his lips. She nodded with wide eyes of understanding.
A broad man then emerged and headed toward the cottage they had been watching for most of the day. Still, Owen did not move. The man trudged through the surrounding wooded area of the hidden house, walked through the wooden gate of the garden, and headed toward the door. Excitement now swirled around Owen’s belly, for after all the hours of them sitting about, this surely was the man they had been waiting for. The man turned, taking his time to look all around him. He was clearly checking to see that he was alone. After a moment, he appeared satisfied. Only then did he enter, slamming the door closed behind him.
“Now, we go,” Owen whispered, standing fully erect.
Iseabail stood with him, and the two made their way to the door. But when Owen knocked, there was no answer. Lifting his large fist, he knocked again, only with more force this time.
They heard heavy footfalls on the wooden boards within, and then the door flew open, and an angry face peeked out at them.
“What dae ye want?” he growled gruffly.
Owen opened his mouth to speak, when Iseabail quickly stepped in front of him.
“Och, thank God,” she gasped. “We have been traveling for miles trying tae find someone tae help us. We were robbed on the road, and we dinnae have tae eat or drink. Would ye be so kind as tae help us?”
Bewildered at her lies, Owen watched the man’s face soften, his shoulders relax, and the door open a little wider. But as they stepped over the threshold, he caught the glint of a knife that the man was now sliding back into its sheath.
She was worried we would be attacked. What a clever girl ye are, Iseabail.
“Where are ye from?” the man demanded, as all three walked further into the cottage.
Owen scanned the area and noticed how dusty and filled with cobwebs it was. It did not look like a house that was livedin, and then he realized that this man was only holed up here temporarily.
“We’ve traveled from John o’ Groats,” Iseabail continued, glancing over at Owen uneasily.
Perhaps she was feeling the same discomfort he was, for his gut was telling him that this man was more dangerous than most. Glancing across the room, he caught the man eyeing Iseabail, his lips parting and his expression denoting a lust for her. It made Owen feel sick to his stomach.
“Sit down there,” he growled, pointing to a table that was covered in old books, dust, and clothes.
In the kitchen, the man grabbed cups from a cupboard and poured wine from a stoneware bottle. “I dinnae have much in the way o’ food, but I have wine,” the man said.
While Iseabail’s view of the kitchen was blocked by a cabinet, Owen did not take his eyes off the man for a second. He watched him slip his hand into a drawer and discreetly lift a paper sachet. Powder spilled from the sachet into each of their cups, and swiftly the man returned it to the drawer. But before he had chance to lift the cups, Owen was on his feet, anger racing through his body.
“What the devil dae ye think ye’re playing at?” he barked. “Did ye think I wouldnae notice ye slipping something intae our drink?”
“What?” Iseabail gasped, pushing herself up from the chair.
“Dae ye expect me just tae trust ye?” the man scowled back. “What kind o’ fool dae ye take me fer?”
“And so ye drug everyone ye dinnae trust?” Owen came back, now taking determined strides toward him.
But the man did not back away, and in fact, moved towards Owen to close the gap. By his expression, he was ready to fight, and Owen had plenty of reasons to hit him, not least of which the way he had looked at Iseabail earlier.
“Stop it! The both o’ ye,” Iseabail screamed.
So loud was her cry that both men stopped in their tracks and turned to gawk at her.
