Page 85 of Stealing Sophie
Chapter 22
In the dusky twilight, Connor noticed how Sophie’s hair gleamed like rose gold as he approached along the newly cleared garden path. Green shoots pushed up along the edges. He had never seen so many young plants in spring at Glendoon.
She turned then, tears streaking her face, her eyes pink-rimmed, spilling over. He wanted to take her into his arms, yet paused. He would be here for her if she needed him. Every instinct told him not to press her.
“Sophie, I did not want to tell you because I am not sure this is true about Rob,” he said. “But you needed to know, just in case it is so.”
She nodded, arms folded tightly as she turned away from him.
“I know what it is to lose someone close,” he murmured. “You and I both do. It hurts,” he said, drawing a breath, making himself continue, “for a long while, it hurts. Then one day, you realize the burden feels a bit lighter, just a bit. The weight of it begins to break away. We move on, life moves on, and we still carry it, but somehow we find a place to keep it, and the pain is not so keen.”
She nodded again, shoulders hunched as if they bore the weight of grief. “But I do not want this. Not this, not Rob.”
“I know. I feel it too. He is my good friend, and it cuts me like a blade.” He touched her shoulder, and she did not pull away.
“Tell me, then,” she said. “What happened.”
“The night he was taken,” he began, “we were together, spying out the military road that General Wade has been laying through this glen. Robert wanted maps, so we were making sketches. He had asked your sister to try to fetch military maps if she was able to get into Wade’s camp, but he had not heard from her yet. We went out to do what we could that night, but it went wrong. The moon was too bright. We were seen and pursued by dragoons.”
Simply as he could, he told her the rest—that Rob had been shot but had concealed the extent of his injury; that he had given Connor the note, asking for his promise to marry his sister. He told her that the guards had come close to them, and that he tried to get Duncrieff away to safety—but realized the man would die without immediate medical attention. Wade’s company had a doctor and could provide care. It was a grave gamble—nor would he beg out of his role in his friend’s capture.
“I left him there,” he said. “To be found. It was the only way to save him.”
She nodded, head lowered, her hair like braided moonbeams. “You had to.”
“I hoped the risk would save him, and it did—he was tended to and survived to be taken to Perth. But if he is gone now, then I did the wrong thing that night.”
“Not wrong, I think.” She seemed to soften. “You gambled to help him.”
He drew a breath, nodded. “Aye. Thank you.”
“We never know what we will be asked to bear, do we.”
“But bear it we will,” he murmured.
“This rumor may be just that. He may be fine after all.”
“I intend to find out. As soon as I can leave Glendoon, I will go to Edinburgh.”
“I feel that he is alive,” she said then, looking up at him. “I cannot believe he is gone. I would know it, I.” She laid a hand to her heart.
“I hope you are right.” He reached out, stroked his fingers over the pale gloss of her hair. “I am sorry, Sophie,” he whispered. “For so many things, I am sorry.”
“You do not need to say that. I just wish I knew,” she added in a rush.
“Can the fairy gift tell you?” He saw the little necklace twinkling in the light.
Lifting her brows in surprise, she looked up. “You do not believe in such things.”
“True, I do not put much faith in gifts and curses, ghosts and the like.”
“I heard the ghost again,” she said. “It makes beautiful, haunting music.”
Connor tilted his head, thoughtful. This was not the time to explain. “Tell me about the fairy of Duncrieff.”
She turned to face him. “A long time ago,” she said, “in the time of the mists, they say, a MacCarran laird rescued a fairy woman from drowning. He took her to his house to recover, and there they fell in love and married. She was of the ancient race of her kind, the sort said to be very beautiful, tall as humans, very powerful.”
“Aye so?” He brushed back a lock of her hair. “And then?”
