Page 43 of Stealing Sophie
“Duncrieff must have known their plans,” Neill said thoughtfully. “Perhaps he gambled that you would marry the wee nun quickly and learn the truth too late. Perhaps he set a trap for you.”
“It is possible,” Connor murmured. “But why? I wonder if he confided in his kinsmen. I will seek out Allan MacCarran to ask if he knows anything or can guess.”
“You will not be in the good graces of any MacCarran, given Duncrieff’s arrest and you stealing their kinswoman,” Neill warned. “And when they learn of their chief’s death, it will go badly for you.”
“It could. Roderick,” Connor directed, “best go back to Glendoon and stand guard there. Make certain the lady does not leave. Sit with her until I return.”
“Make sure you have some rope to hand for that one,” Neill advised. “I will send Padraig along to help you when I see him. Your mother has gone up already. Come, Kinnoull, let me show you where the English are working the road this morning,” Neill added, as Roderick headed for the slope leading to Glendoon.
Connor turned to walk with Murray over the hills. Despite being twice Connor’s age, Neill went at a fast pace, legs lean and wiry from years of walking the hills and moors. Connor proceeded slowly, thoughtfully, pausing to glance back at the castle.
His beautiful bride waited there. But for now, he would do well to keep his distance until he knew more about the marriage her brother had so neatly arranged.
Neill called and pointed ahead. Connor hurried through the drizzling rain to join him, and soon stood gazing at the newest section of the military road.
