Page 104 of Stealing Sophie
Hunching down, Connor moved cautiously, gesturing for the others to follow.
“Mistress, I am disappointed,”Padraig said, throwing down his cards. “Roderick told me you have gambling magic. But you lost nearly every game tonight.”
“And you won some very pretty rocks.” Sophie smiled. “This evening I feel so distracted, and I have a bit of a headache. Perhaps I should try to go to sleep. Promise me you will you knock on my door if they come home.”
“I will,” he promised.
As she climbed the stairs to the bedchamber, she realized she could not rest. Every fiber in her being felt strung tightly, alert to some undefined threat. She stopped in the dark stairwell, her candle in its holder casting bright patterns over the stone. Her brother was alive, thank God—and she had to see him. She could not simply wait here wondering if Rob and Connor and the others were safe. Danger or none, she had to go.
The men were facing danger for her brother’s sake, and for her safety too. But if she could have some influence on Sir Henry, that might help all of them.
Touching the crystal pendant, she sensedits quiet power. The stone’s magic and the hint of fairy blood that supposedly coursed through her seemed to sing within her, calling to her in a way she had never felt before. Deep longing filled her just then for Connor, for love, for kin, for what could be.
She made up her mind. Somehow she had to convince Sir Henry Campbell to give up his scheme, to release her brother and accept her marriage. She had to try.
Hurrying into the bedchamber, she went to the wooden chest, opened it, rifled hastily through its folded garments. She already wore an everyday gown of dark blue borrowed from the contents earlier and just needed sturdy shoes. She found a pair and also grabbed a folded shawl in dark tartan plaid. It would do well to hide her in the moonlight. When she pulled it free and shook it out, something fell to the floor.
A small wooden box with brass fittings, wrapped in the plaid, clunked to the floor. The latch opened and folded papers and glittering pieces tumbled over the thin carpet. Jewels—necklaces, earrings, others—scattered out with the pages.
She gathered the pages and jewelry to cram them back into the box. A phrase on one of the pages caught her eye.Connor MacPherson,it said, andLord Kinnoull.
This must belong to Connor, she thought, kept among his mother’s things. Fitting the pages back into the box and latching it shut, she replaced it in the chest. Then she threw the tartan shawl over her shoulders and headed downstairs again.
Tiptoeing past the hall, she heard Padraig talking to the dogs, who did not bark as she went by. They were familiar with her step by now. Going quietly through the kitchen, she slipped out into the darkness.
If she opened the gate, she realized, the noise would alert the dogs. She turned and hurried to the back wall, searching for Fiona’s escape route. Roderick had set wooden planks above the jumble of stones, difficult for even the most persistent cow, but Sophie climbed up easily. Perched on the wall, ready to swing her feet over, she heard the dogs barking—and saw three of them all but flying across the yard.
“Shoo,” she hissed from the upper rim of the wall. “Off with you now!” She sat precariously on the wall, one leg over the edge. Tam, Una, and Scota reached her, leaping so high on their hind legs that Sophie feared they would hurt themselves.
“Go away,” she pleaded.
“Ah, there you are, Mistress,” Padraig said, strolling after them. “I was warned you might try something like this.”
“Padraig, do let me go. I must find them.”
“Kinnoull would have my head for it. He made me promise to watch you.”
“But I have to be sure that my brother is safe.”
“Trust Kinnoull to see to that.”
“I do, but it is Sir Henry I do not trust.”
“Aye so. Neither do I. And I did not want to be left here while the lads went off after him. I will come with you, then. You dogs! Back to the house, go now!” He motioned them off, half chasing them as they ran back through the open kitchen door. Then he began to scale the wall.
“Bless you, Padraig Murray,” Sophie said as he joined her at the top. A moment later, he swung to the ground and reached up to lift her down.
“Mistress, I hope you will not get yourself into trouble tonight.”
“I will not. And I will try not to get you into trouble either.” She brushed off her skirts. “Where are we going?”
“This way, Mistress.”
“Sophie,” she corrected, hurrying beside him.
