Page 81 of Highland Crown
It is but Death who comes at last.
—Sir Walter Scott, “Marmion,” Canto II
Take her alive or order the house burned with her in it? Have his men run her down or capture her himself?
Counting on Hudson’s arrogance, she decided he was certain to follow her across the lane and take her on his own. At least, that was what she prayed as she raced through the open doorway of Searc’s home. The most important thing at that moment was to lead him away from the innocent people lying helpless on the malt-house floor.
In the great hall, the housekeeper stood, uncertain in her panic as to what she should do. “All the men have gone to help with the fire, mistress. And only the cook and I and—”
“Take the tunnel to the river.” She dragged her toward the corridor on the far side of the hall. “The soldiers might set this house on fire too. Gather whoever is left in the house and go. Go now!”
“Come with us, mistress.”
“Not now. I’ll join you.”
Thankfully, the older woman didn’t argue and yelled to a serving girl rushing from the kitchens. They both disappeared.
Isabella reached into the pocket of her apron for the scalpel she’d tucked there earlier. She could hardly hope to throw it with any success at the monster, but she was still prepared to fight him to the end.
She faced the door across the great hall. The labyrinth of corridors lay behind her. She knew her way through them now. She could disappear, and he would never find her. She could leave the building. But she wasn’t going to run away. She was the one who’d brought Hudson to Inverness, and one way or the other she would send him away from here.
The door from the lane flew open with a smash. He swaggered in and stopped across the great hall when he saw her, his face at once smug and triumphant. Thank God, she thought, he’d chosen to come after her alone.
“Good day, Dr. Drummond. Or is it Mrs. Murray today? Wait, I believe you must be Mrs. Mackintosh, the lovely wife of this new son of Scotland everyone speaks so highly of.”
Of course, word would have reached Fort George.Son of Scotland. She’d heard the term used over and over. She knew they were referring to Cinaed. She took a couple of steps back. The door behind Hudson stayed open, but no one else appeared.
“How did you find me?”
“It was easy,” he said, strolling casually toward her. “A fine-looking woman with a Lowlander’s accent who happens to have medical knowledge.”
She retreated, backing into a wide corridor leading into the house. “If you knew where I was, why burn this neighborhood? Why not just take me and drag me back to Edinburgh with you? Why make these people suffer?”
“A little late for such talk, don’t you think?” he asked, continuing to follow her. “But I’m not here to take you back. I no longer need you. I no longer need the names of your troublemaking friends.”
Isabella shot a quick glance over her shoulder. She kept backing away, slow enough to keep him coming. He was enjoying this. She was a mouse, trapped between his cat claws. In a moment, he’d become bored with the game. The time for toying with her would be over. And then he’d pounce.
“You don’t need me?” she asked, stalling.
“Not at all. You’ve given me something greater. Another husband. Another enemy of the Crown. You have a keen interest in traitors.”
She bit back her words.
“Thanks to you, I now know the man who is fast becoming the heart of all our future troubles here.”
Isabella didn’t need to ask. Cinaed.
“Unlike you, he is a true enemy of the Crown, wanted for years. Sinking government ships. Bringing illegal arms into the Highlands.” He shook his head like he expected better. “It wasn’t too difficult to realize what was on theHighland Crown. I hear the explosions lit up the sky before it sank.”
“Much like that ship not a mile from here,” she taunted.
“As you say. But you’ve given me another charge to attach to his name.”
“I’ve given you nothing,” she spat.
“He is a bold one, and shrewd. I’ll give him that. Bleeding, smelling like a dead fish, and still he bursts into that dining room to rescue you. But if for nothing else, I’ll enjoy seeing him hang for killing Sergeant Davidson.”
The length of his stride was longer than hers. He was closing the distance between them.
