Page 53 of Healing the Highland Sinner
“Clever, clever,” he muttered.
The compound wasn’t overly large but seemed to be well defended. It was far enough away from Thurso and hidden among the thick and soaring trees of the forest well enough that nobody was going to find it if they weren’t looking for it. But it was still close enough to town that if he wanted to stage an attack, this compound would serve as a good launching point. It was also a good place to hide somebody he did not want found.
From his position among the trees, Ellair could see at least a dozen men walking the grounds of the compound. He could hear the echoes of their laughter and murmured conversation, though he was too far away to make out individual words. If he wanted to gain information that would prove valuable, he would need to get closer.
Moving slowly and cautiously, careful to avoid stepping on dry twigs or rustling the undergrowth, Ellair picked his way down the gentle slope. He paused and hunkered down behind a shrub, watching the compound in front of him. A pair of men walked by on the other side of the palisade, talking in low tones with each other.
Ellair waited for them to turn the corner, disappearing behind one of the outbuildings, then stepped out from behind the bush and slipped through the palisade. He moved quickly to the building nearest to him, pressing his back against the wall and waited. Hearing nothing, he leaned around the corner and took a quick look. Not seeing anybody, he moved to the next building. Light glowed at the window and when he peered over the sill, he saw it was empty inside.
He moved to the next building. Some men were lounging about inside, drinking and laughing boisterously. Ellair was about to turn toward the next structure when he spotted a small shack sitting just off in the distance. The light that showed at the windows was dim, but through the narrow window, he spotted a shadow moving. Although it was plain and unassuming, something about the building caused red flags in his head and piqued his curiosity.
Picking his way carefully across the open ground, Ellair made it to the curious building and pressed himself against the wall. His heart thundering in his ears and his stomach churning, fully expecting to hear guards shouting at him to stop, he looked around. He was alone but he knew that was a situation that could change quickly.
The sound of heavy footsteps and men’s voices rang in his ears, sending a flash of lightning crackling through his veins. Ellair ducked behind the small building. He listened to them being thrown open followed by boots on the wooden floor. Ellair slipped around the other side of the building and paused at the corner of the window and peered inside.
The first thing he saw was a large, broad-shouldered man in a leather breastplate standing in the center of the room, thick arms folded over a wide chest. His short dark hair was streaked with silver and his gray eyes were narrowed and hard. Ellair had no idea who he was, but the man had a commanding presence about him.
“Yer sister is provin’ tae be more difficult than she’s worth,” the man said.
Ellair’s eyes followed the man’s gaze to another man sitting in a chair, hands bound behind his back, looking weary and defeated. The sitting man’s face was swollen and bruises in several shades of deep, dark purple marred his otherwise fair complexion. The prisoner’s hair was chestnut brown, and his delicate features were familiar. But when he opened his eyes and Ellair saw their shade of green, his heart leapt into his throat. He knew exactly who it was.
“Bleedin’ hell,” he muttered to himself.
The man in armor delivered a vicious backhand to the man in the chair, rocking his head to the side. The prisoner let out a low, agonized groan as fresh blood spilled from the corner of hismouth. Ellair winced, fighting the urge to wade in and free the man. With so many other guards in the compound, he would likely only get himself killed before actually freeing him.
“Yer bleedin’ sister is goin’ tae get ye killed,” the armored man said. “I just thought ye should ken why ye’re dyin’ when we put a blade in yer belly. All she had tae dae was follow simple instructions and she cannae dae that. ‘Tis like she wants me tae send yer head tae her. How daes that make ye feel?”
The prisoner’s voice was low and garbled and Ellair couldn’t make out what he said. But he followed his words with a throaty, harsh laugh. The armored man struck him again, harder this time. The prisoner groaned, miserable. Ellair huddled against the wall of the building, trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t want to leave the man in there to be tortured and tormented. But if he was going to have any success in freeing him, he wouldn’t be able to do it on his own.
“Ye there! Stop right there!”
White hot adrenaline poured into Ellair’s veins when two men appeared in the compound yard and rushed toward him, drawing their swords as they came.
“Bleedin’ hell,” he said.
Moving on instinct, Ellair turned and darted into the darkness. He jumped through the palisade and stumbled as he hit the ground but quickly righted himself as he clambered up the slope. Behind him, men were shouting and he could hear the soundof swords being drawn and heavy footsteps on the earth as Sinclair’s guards gave chase.
Ellair ran as fast as his legs would carry him, dodging rocks and jumping over exposed roots, clinging to the dark pools of shadow that covered the floor of the forest around him. He zig-zagged around rock formations and trees, darted up slopes and down the other side. Ellair leapt over streams and down the bank of a river, his breath ragged, his lungs burning, and his legs feeling as if they might give out at any moment.
Eventually, the sound of pursuit faded into the distance behind him. He pulled up and leaned against the wide trunk of a tree, doubling over to catch his breath. He wheezed and gasped, sinking to his backside to give his legs a chance to recover. All the while, he kept listening, straining his ears, to hear whether Sinclair’s men had picked up his trail. Ellair leaned his head back against the hard wood and closed his eyes, taking long, measured breaths to slow his racing heart.
There was no doubt in his mind the man he’d seen tied to the chair had been Rosalind’s brother, Blaine. Sinclair had been keeping him under her nose this entire time. But what was he going to do about it?
He could write to Laird Gunn and Laird MacAulay, asking them for assistance with freeing the captured man. But would they actually come to Blaine’s aid? Doing so meant coming to Rosalind’s aid and neither of them were convinced she was innocent in all this. He still had quite a hill to climb to convince them she was merely an unwitting pawn in Sinclair’smachinations. He was confident he could make them see the truth of the matter, but he feared that Blaine did not have that kind of time. Especially now that Sinclair knew his secret compound had been found out.
The other option was to tell Rosalind what he’d found. Doing so might jeopardize his cover and force him to admit to her that he was working for Laird Gunn, which was a less than desirable option for a host of reasons. Aside from revealing himself though, he knew Rosalind could be rash. She acted with her heart… especially when it came to her brother. The guilt she carried over his current condition was close to driving her mad as it was. If he told her he knew where Blaine was being held, she would stop at nothing to get him back.
That would only ensure her getting herself killed. But more than that, launching an assault on a compound that was well manned and fortified—and with more men due to arrive at any point—it would be a fool’s errand.
But if she found out he knew where her brother was and kept that knowledge from her, Rosalind’s reaction would be as swift as it would be harsh. She might never forgive him for withholding that information no matter how good a reason he had. She wouldn’t see it as him protecting her, especially not from herself, so much as a betrayal.
Ellair sucked in a breath through his teeth and frowned. There were no easy answers to this conundrum, or good answers. It really was a case of dammed if he did and damned if he didn’t. He really had no viable path that would please anybody, and nomatter what he did, Ellair was going to run afoul of somebody either by his actions, or his inaction.
So, he decided on the best course of action as he saw it—protecting Rosalind and doing his best to keep her alive. Which, of course, meant saying nothing about what he’d discovered and saying nothing about finding her brother. He would keep his lips sealed.
For now.
CHAPTER 24
