Page 53 of Abducted By the Highlander
Her letter.
Before he could stop himself, his fingers gripped the pouch where he’d hidden Roisin’s letter the other day.Goddamn it. He hadn’t imagined the feeling of being watched first thing this morning while he’d been in the river.
Fergus had been there and rifled through his belongings.
Why the hell hadn’t he checked his things more thoroughly? But he knew why. It was because the only possessions he valued were Roisin’s handkerchief and the portrait she had drawn of him. And Fergus hadn’t taken them, since they weren’t incriminatory.
God’s bones, no wonder Darragh had asked him if Creagdoun meant anything to him. It was because Fergus had shared Roisin’s letter with him, where she’d writtenLady Isolde MacDonald, Creagdoun Castleon the envelope.
Heat scorched through him. He had betrayed her trust by not sending her letter. But the thought of these MacGregors reading her private correspondence sickened him to his core. The only shred of light was she’d respected his wish not to reveal specific details or disclose who had saved her from the bandits. If she hadn’t, he had no doubt he’d be dead in a ditch by now.
“It wasn’t loyalty to Darragh that stayed yer hand,” Fergus said, obviously determined to get an admission of guilt from him. “Isn’t that right?”
“Aye.” There was no point denying it, because one thing had become crystal clear. Fergus was on a mission, and he wouldn’t patientlywait for Darragh to arrive in due course. Hugh could see the cold determination to exact vengeance lurking in his eyes, and as soon as Fergus had gathered a band of loyalists, he’d return to Darragh and personally escort Roisin to his camp without delay.
Hugh couldn’t allow Fergus to leave these woods. He drew his sword at the exact same moment as Fergus, which merely confirmed his suspicion that the other man had never intended him to leave the woods alive. Steel clashed against steel, startling the woodland birds that abandoned the trees in a flurry of wing beats. Fergus pressed forward, and Hugh parried his attack, as Fhortan skillfully sidestepped the other man’s mount despite being surrounded by trees.
Hugh’s heart pounded in his ears and lightning charged through his veins, the way it always did when he engaged in battle. There was a wild gleam in Fergus’s eyes, and by God, he’d use that to his advantage. If there was one thing he’d learned during his time as a redshank, it was to never lead with anger.
Fergus lunged, and Hugh instinctively ducked, the blade missing his throat by a hairsbreadth. He instantly swung about, catching the other man’s sword arm, and Fergus bared his teeth. “I know ye, Hugh Campbell. I couldn’t place ye until now. Ye’re the earl of Argyll’s man. Ye’re the damn cousin of William Campbell.”
Hugh didn’t bother wasting his breath by responding. There was no need. They both knew how this would end. If Fergus left this place alive, Roisin would die.
Fergus transferred his sword to his left hand, his right arm hanging uselessly by his side as blood dripped to the ground, and Hugh gave him no quarter. Before the other man could recalibrate his strategy, he swerved, catching Fergus off guard, and plunged his blade through his enemy’s heart.
Chapter Twenty
Supper was ready,just as Darragh returned to the caves. Anticipation sizzled through Roisin as she watched for Hugh to follow, but he didn’t. Alarm prickled along her arms, and she peered into the forest some distance away, willing him to appear, even though she couldn’t imagine why he’d be trailing so far behind Darragh.
Nothing stirred at the edge of the forest.
Heart thumping, she watched Elspeth greet Darragh, leading him away from the others. Was she telling him of Innis’s wish to leave?
Roisin chewed her lip and once again gazed across the glen at the forest. Where was he? And then something else occurred to her. Where was Fergus?
Panic churned her stomach, and she gripped her hands together. It was far too easy to imagine the worst. Had Darragh murdered both Hugh and Fergus?
She sucked in a shaky breath. No. She wouldn’t think it. Hugh was perfectly safe.
So why wasn’t he here?
When the women served supper, without anyone remarking on Hugh’s absence, her dread magnified, seeping through her veins and twining around her heart like thistles. Darragh and the men took their plates and settled down to eat, and as Elspeth dished up the women’s and bairns’ portions, she had the terrifying sensation that she might vomit.
It was foolhardy beyond belief to speak to Darragh at any time,unless she had no choice, never mind when he was digging into his food with an expression of thunder on his face. Barely two weeks ago the idea wouldn’t even have crossed her mind.
But now she couldn’t get it out of her head.
’Twas no good. Placing her plate on the ground, she stood and made her way over to where Darragh sat on a rock. As she approached, he became aware of her, and his eye fixed on her as though he could see her innermost thoughts.
She battled the overwhelming urge to run back to Grear and took another step closer. Her heartbeat echoed in her head and her hands were clammy, but she’d come this far, and she wasn’t going to turn back now. It didn’t help her wavering courage when the camp fell silent, as though everyone were staring at her.
Who was she trying to fool? Everyonewasstaring at her. She licked her lips and halted in front of Darragh, who didn’t say a word as he continued to eat, pinning her to the spot with his one good eye.
He clearly had no intention of making this easy for her. But she had to know Hugh’s fate, even if there was nothing she could do about it. “Darragh.” Her voice was hoarse with nerves, but she refused to wince, because he would see and mock her for it. “Where’s Hugh?”
The silence intensified, as if such a phenomenon was even possible, but she fancied it pressed in on her like a mantle of invisible fog.
If only I were invisible.
