Page 111 of Stealing Sophie
“Once the MacCarran chief is gone, his sister—my wife,” he said, “would be chief. But I would need to make decisions on her behalf. For instance, your clan would prosper and do well by switching its support to King George.”
“You would help the Whigs and the English king?” Duncrieff shook his head. “You, a Scotsman, part of an ancient clan yourself. Where is your loyalty?”
“The Campbells,” Neill said, “are not the most loyal Highland men these days. They side with a king that many of us choose not to accept.”
“Shut up. You cannot know my loyalties. Weeks ago, it was necessary to move Duncrieff quickly, but I would not let him die outright. Later, he was hidden at Kinnoull House—he was there while you and I were having dinner, my dear girl, not so long ago.”
“Oh, Rob, I am so sorry. I did not know!” She set a hand to her heart. “Did he tell you he wants to claim the gold of Duncrieff? But it is just a legend, just one cup.”
“One old cup missing half its stones,” Rob agreed. “Not worth much now.”
“I will judge that for myself once I have Duncrieff Castle. But first, I mean to find MacPherson,” Campbell said. “I have been after that rascal for a while now. I suspect he and his lot have been doing damage to the military roads. Hey, Murray,” he said, poking Neill with the pistol. “Is it so?” Neill spit at his feet.
Sophie stepped forward. “Truly, we can talk about this later. We must go!”
“You seem fretful, girl.” Campbell walked to the parapet and leaned over. “MacPherson,” he called. “If you want your bride to live, you had best come out.”
Hearing Campbell,Connor froze. Unless they left the bridge now, he thought, they could die. The fuse nearest him was shortening slowly, yet Sophie and the others still talked. She had seen him—his heart had near leaped from his chest in that moment—and she had grasped his urgency. Even without knowing the reason, she had tried to convince Campbell to go. Soon she would know why—they all would.
If he cut the burning end away from its length, he could save them—or he could emerge now, and rush all of them off the bridge.
“MacPherson!” Campbell shouted.
“Sir Henry, I want to go. I feel ill,” Sophie said loudly.
Connor turned to motion Thomas to cut the other fuse, but the lad was gone—he had crossed under the bridge to make his way along the muddy bank, crouched low, pistol in hand. Connor could not safely call to him, or Campbell might see the boy there.
But he could not cut the second sizzling fuse himself without being seen. Gauging the time before the second fuse burned its length, he knew he had to act.
He stepped out from under the bridge and walked up the bank, turning to face those who stood on the bridge. Sophie gasped, set a hand to her throat.
“I am here,” Connor said, spreading his arms wide to show no threat. “Your quarrel is with me, Sir Henry. Let the others go. You and I will settle the matter.”
“I doubt we can agree,” Campbell said smugly. He reached for Sophie, who eluded him, moving out of his way, leaving Campbell in the middle of the bridge with arm extended, looking almost foolish. She stepped between Rob and Neill and looked at Connor. She was pale, beautiful, as strong and determined as he had ever seen her.
But he glanced away, fastened his gaze on Sir Henry. He could not look at Sophie, dared not falter. She was his strength and his weakness.
“We agree,” Campbell was saying, “that your father was dispossessed and your estate came to me. We should agree that you stole my bride and ruined her.”
“No one ruined me,” Sophie said. “We have to go.”
Bless the girl, Connor thought, counting out the seconds in his mind. “Your grudge is with me alone.” He stepped forward. “Sophie,” he said, eyes fixed on Campbell. “Take the others. Run.”
“I will not leave without you,” she said, holding her brother’s arm, Neill’s waist. “We will not leave without you.”
“Sir Henry and I must have a private word. Guards—take them. I am ordering you, as Captain MacPherson of the Black Watch. Take them away now!” His heart was pounding.
The soldiers looked at one another. The one advantage he had just now, Connor knew, though it might expose him, was that he had been a military officer, while Sir Henry was a civil magistrate with less authority over soldiers. Suddenly the guards stepped up beside Neill and Rob, Sophie between them, and prepared to move away.
“What are you doing!” Campbell demanded.
“Orders from Captain MacPherson, sir,” one guard said. “His name is known in our unit. General Wade speaks highly of him. You are not an officer, sir, so his order would come first. Begging pardon,” he added, while Campbell sputtered.
“Thank you, soldier,” Connor said, relieved—he had gambled on having authority here. Campbell fumed, threatening to discharge the guards, but was ignored.
From the corner of his eye, Connor saw Thomas standing on the bank, aiming. Below the bridge, the burning fuse would be very short by now, he thought.
Glancing at Sophie, he saw the crystal at her throat winking in the moonlight. He loved her utterly, every fiber in his being. He would do anything for her. Anything.
