Page 73 of Sutherland's Secret
Captain Fenwick’s brows creased. “Found, sir?”
“The woman!” Blackwood yelled. Good God, was he working with fools?
The captain eyed him coolly. Blackwood didn’t like that look. The man thought too highly of himself and not highly enough of Blackwood. That wouldn’t do. Blackwood made a mental note to keep an eye on Fenwick.
“The woman,” Fenwick said flatly. “We have not found her on our patrols.”
Blackwood consciously tamped down his anger and frustration. Must he mount his horse and search? How difficult was it to find one Englishwoman in a country full of Highlanders? “But you are looking, correct, Captain?”
“Of course, sir.”
Blackwood suspected that the captain wasn’t speaking the truth.
“Sir, there is a matter of some urgency that I must speak to you about.”
“What is it?” Blackwood said, half listening.
His sources watching the Hopewell family said that the son, Thomas, had not been seen for some time. Though that concerned Blackwood, he was fairly certain no one in the household would venture all the way to the Scottish Highlands to find Eleanor. They would send someone. Blackwood just needed to find that person and put an end to his queries. That would buy him time to find the bloody woman. His fingers curled into fists, and he had to stop himself from slamming them into the top of his desk. Who would have thought the insipid Eleanor could thwart him so fully?
“Sir?”
Blackwood brought his attention back to the captain. “Yes?” he snapped.
“My men and I were talking. We have found it unusual that the number of Jacobites is dwindling.”
“Why is that unusual? We’ve rounded up and killed most of them. That means we’re doing our job.”
The captain looked skeptical but kept his mouth shut. Wise move. Blackwood didn’t take kindly to insubordination. Nevertheless he felt he owed the captain some sort of accolade. “Your men are doing a fine job, Captain. Obviously our mission here is almost complete. We’ve routed the dirty Jacobites and put order to the remaining Scotsmen. Now they know who is in charge here.”
The captain shifted from one foot to the other. “If you say so, sir.”
“Of course I say so.” Blackwood gritted his teeth, wanting the man gone so he could think without the captain’s voice jabbering in his ear.
“Very well, sir.” Captain Fenwick turned to leave.
“Captain.”
The man turned back and looked at Blackwood with one brow raised. Oh, yes, the man was going to pay for his insolence. “Keep looking for the woman.”
The captain hesitated. “Yes, sir.”
—
Eleanor tried not to let herself hope. Brice’s idea seemed too easy a solution to a problem that at one time seemed insurmountable. Could he be right? Could Blackwood be that greedy? That grasping? And she’d been so naive. That was the most embarrassing part. She’d not even thought that Blackwood was using her for his own gain.
She remembered her parents were always very careful about the men who had come calling and those who had asked to court her. Her father had the final say in who was allowed past their front door. At the time she’d thought they were being overly protective.
In thinking back on it, she realized that Charles had been more her father’s choice than hers. Her mother had introduced them, and her father had encouraged Charles’s suit. That wasn’t to say that Eleanor had no feelings for Charles; she’d been fond of him, and given time, she was certain they would have grown comfortable together and possibly even loved each other. Not the soul-searing love she felt for Brice, the kind of love that reached down into her and grabbed hold of her until she couldn’t breathe with the power of it. That was a once-in-a-lifetime love that didn’t come from a carefully scrutinized pedigree.
So maybe Brice was right. She was aware that her family was very well off, more so than most of her friends, but it was crass to talk about such a thing, and most of the time she never thought of it. Her father was a huge advocate of the military and claimed some of the highest-ranking officers as friends. Was that what Blackwood had been after?
Did it matter at this point?
How was she even to contact her family? A letter was out of the question, and she was afraid that Blackwood would have men waiting for her if she were to step foot on English soil. Her head hurt from thinking about all of this. One moment she was preparing for a new, lonely life in Canada and the next she was contemplating returning to the fold of her family.
And there were other considerations. She’d been imprisoned for months and was now living with a Scottish clan chief. Her reputation was in shreds and completely irreparable. What kind of a life would she live in England? And what if she were with child?
“This is where I always come to worry out a problem,” Brice said, taking a seat beside her.
