Page 102 of Stealing Sophie
Connor narrowed his eyes. “And if not?”
“He will kill Neill Murray and the prisoner he had with him.”
“Did he grab Allan MacCarran or his brother?” That was likely, he told himself, his thoughts racing as he tried to anticipate Campbell’s intent.
“Duncrieff,” Andrew said. “He had Duncrieff with him.”
Connor stared. “You saw him? You are sure?”
“Aye. We both saw him,” Thomas said. “Campbell has Duncrieff and Neill Murray now, at the bridge. He wants Sophie MacCarran in exchange for Neill. He will not give up Duncrieff. Says it is not his authority to decide. A legal matter, he said.”
“Kinnoull, I will go with you,” Roderick said.
“We will as well,” Andrew said. “Conn—he has an arrest warrant for you for stealing the lass. And he will arrest her kinsmen for conspiring with you to take her.”
“They had naught to do with it,” Connor said.
“He thinks otherwise,” Thomas said. “He said she was his rightful betrothed, and you had no right to her and will pay.”
“Campbell has more of a scheme in mind than just my offense, I think.”
“Aye, Connor, because he has Duncrieff,” Andrew replied. “He wants you and the lass as well to meet him, but which of you will serve his scheme best?”
“Sophie. In his mind, I am dispensable. Duncrieff may be as well.” Connor nodded. “He means to control a Highland clan.”
“And the fairy magic of Duncrieff,” Sophie said. Connor turned. She stood a few feet away, having approached unnoticed while they were talking. She looked pale, her hands clenched. “I will go with you,” she said.
“No,” he said.
“My brother is alive. I have to go to him.”
“I will bring him here to you,” Connor said.
“You cannot promise that. Do not give me your word on that,” she said fiercely. “I want to see him. How is it that Sir Henry has him?”
“I mean to ask about that,” Connor said mildly.
“Sir Henry has wanted something from the MacCarrans for a long time,” she said. “I always wondered what it might be. He pressed for my hand years ago, and my father finally relented, needing the assistance Campbell promised—and never gave him. If he still insists on marrying me now—”
“You are already married, and that is an end to it,” Connor said. “You cannot risk going there, Sophie. It is far too dangerous.”
“But I know what he wants,” she said. “We can give that to him.”
“He wants you so he can get a political hold in Perthshire. But he must make sure that your brother and your husband”—he inclined his head—“are dead first.”
“He wants the fairy cup kept at Duncrieff,” she said.
“What he wants is actual control and leverage—men, castles, wealth. A clan.”
“And if he has the cup, he can have that, or so he thinks. When I visited him at Kinnoull House the night you took me away, he kept asking me about the legends and the fairy cup. He wanted to see my pendant.” She touched the necklace. “I would not let him have it, though he reached for it more than once.”
“He just wanted an excuse to get closer to you,” Connor growled. “Come ahead, lads. We should go now.”
“I am coming with you,” Sophie said.
“No. You should stay here with Padraig if Roderick comes with us.” Taking her arm, Connor walked with her toward the kitchen doorway, striding so quickly that she stumbled to keep up. He slowed, reminded of his thoughtlessness the night he had taken her away, dragging her over hills and mountains, forcing her to find her courage.
She had done that. Now she was determined to go with him when he was equally determined to keep her safe. The fear of losing her was too strong.
