Page 27 of Abducted By the Highlander
Hugh glanced at Symon, as if to assure himself the other man was still too far ahead to overhear their conversation. Did he consider her completely irresponsible? She wouldn’t have said anything if she suspected Symon was close enough to eavesdrop.
“I meant what I said, Roisin. I have a contact who knows both William and Alasdair who will let yer kin know ye’re all right. I just need to wait for confirmation for when it’s safe to return ye to them as soon as I can.”
The intimate way he said her name was irresistibly distracting, and it wasn’t the first time he’d omitted her title. Was it wrong of her to find it secretly thrilling? In Eigg he had been the model of chivalric propriety, and she’d found him charming. She’d gleaned from their conversations he was a second son, and his family were not vastly wealthy like Alasdair had proven to be, or even William with his own large estates. None of that mattered to her.
He was the first man she’d met who hadn’t made her want to hide behind her sisters, the way she usually did when confronted by strangers or even those she didn’t know well. He had been gentle, andkind, and she’d fooled herself into thinking that she knew his character well enough to daydream of a life together.
But she’d been wrong. She hadn’t known him in the slightest and yet this other side of Hugh, this tough, dark side, which should have terrified her, merely left her feeling breathless with anticipation of the treacherous depths that swirled just below his deceptively civilized facade.
She might still find him irresistible, but it was plain Hugh Campbell considered her incapable of doing something as straightforward as sending a message to her kin.
And then, belatedly, something occurred to her. “Is this why Darragh is keeping Grear and Ecne hostage? So I don’t try to send a message?”
Horror skated through her. She’d assumed Darragh had been warning her not to escape once they reached the town. As if she would. Where would she run to? She certainly didn’t need his implicit threat that harm would befall Grear and Ecne if she attempted such a foolish thing.
“Aye.” Hugh gave a heavy sigh, and she focused ahead, so he wouldn’t guess that she’d only just reached that conclusion, when it should have been glaringly obvious from the start. “He cannot risk a messenger being traced back to the town, where questions would be asked and a search undertaken.”
“Then how do ye propose to keep yer promise to me, and send a message to this mysterious contact of yers, when clearly ye cannot risk Darragh’s wrath?”
He shifted on his saddle, as though her questions unsettled him. As they should. Did he think she should remain mute and simply accept everything that was happening?
The way I used to on Eigg?
But on Eigg she had been safe and protected, and the need had never arisen for her to ensure her concerns were heard. He wouldlikely ignore her question since she doubted he had an answer for her.
And then he spoke. “A man will not raise the same interest as a lady would. There’ll be enough raised eyebrows as it is with ye simply being in the town, but I couldn’t leave ye behind at the camp.”
“But ye didn’t mind leaving poor Grear behind.” Or Ecne, either.
“’Twas not my idea to do so.” He sounded faintly insulted that she should think such a thing. “But Darragh would not be persuaded otherwise. He cares little for the word of anyone not of his blood kin.”
That Hugh had planned on bringing her maid and, doubtless, Ecne with him, took the salt from her ire. She could scarcely blame him for something that wasn’t his fault, but she still felt the need to defend her position even though Hugh wasn’t accusing her of anything. “Then I shall write the missive, and ye can find the messenger.”
For a moment, she had the impression he was about to argue. But then he gave a deep sigh and inclined his head. “Very well. But I must ask ye to keep yer counsel. It could go badly if Darragh gets wind of it.”
“I’ve no intention of repeating our conversation, Hugh. I’m not ignorant of the danger, ye ken.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t implying that ye were.”
For a short while, they traveled in silence as they descended the mountain along nonexistent pathways. Hugh followed her as they navigated the way in single file. Sunlight dappled the forest undergrowth, and the scent of pine needles filled the air, giving a deceptive sense of tranquility. But nothing about this was normal. She couldn’t quite understand why she wasn’t quivering in terror at the reality she was alone with two men in the middle of the Highlands.
And yet the truth was, no matter how bizarre the circumstances, Hugh made her feel safe. She shouldn’t trust him so completely, but the alternative was to think the worst of him and how would that make this better?
When the path widened, Hugh once again rode by her side, andshe exhaled a long breath in the hope it would untangle her thoughts. Alas, it did not.
“I see ye have made friends with Innis.” He shot her a smile, one that reminded her of when they’d shared clandestine conversations in Sgur Castle. Obviously, he didn’t want to continue with the prickly topic of sending word to her kin and since she’d extracted a promise from him that he intended to find a messenger in the town, she supposed there was nothing further to say about it.
“I don’t believe we’re friends, but I think maybe we understand each other a little.”
“’Tis a miracle ye wrought, make no mistake. After I arrived at camp it took Innis a fortnight before she’d even look at me without murder in her eyes.”
Curious, she caught his warm blue gaze and despite her best intentions to remain calm and collected, a swarm of butterflies collided deep inside her chest as she returned his smile. But she wasn’t going to be distracted. His confession was intriguing.
“How long have ye been staying with them?”
“About six weeks.”
“Only six weeks?” she repeated before she could stop herself. She’d assumed he had been with the rebel MacGregors far longer. After all, Freyja had been wed for a year, and neither she nor Isolde had heard a whisper about him which was odd, considering William and Hugh were cousins, and they and Alasdair had, by all accounts, grown up together as close-knit as blood brothers.
