Page 16 of Abducted By the Highlander
Chapter Five
With obvious reluctance,Lady Roisin handed Hugh her dog’s basket before she hastily dismounted. Clearly, she didn’t want his assistance. Her face was ashen, and she glanced around the camp in barely concealed despair.
Christ, what a mess. He needed to send an urgent message to the earl but that was a problem for tomorrow. Right now, he needed to make sure Roisin had some privacy, since everyone was staring at her as if she were an exotic, tasty morsel.
Luckily, privacy was something he could offer her.
“Lady Roisin, this way. I have my own tent where ye can be alone with yer maid.”
“Is it safe for Ecne to stretch his legs?” She cast him an anxious glance.
“Aye. Of course.” Carefully, he set the basket on the ground and watched as she opened it, and her wee dog went straight into her arms. He had the distinct feeling Darragh was judging him, and not favorably, but he wouldn’t treat Roisin like a prisoner just to appease the older man’s sense of justice.
The fact Darragh had lost his lands wasn’t Roisin’s fault. Hugh knew damn well it was only because she was a MacDonald, and not a Campbell, that Darragh had allowed her to stay, but it hadn’t taken long for him to understand that at his core, Darragh despised everyone not of his own kin.
The older man only tolerated him because of Symon’s high praiseof when they’d fought side by side in Eire, and because he’d proven he was a good hunter during the last few weeks. He didn’t fool himself that given the slightest cause, Darragh would kill him without a second thought.
Once the terrier had relieved himself against a rock, he led Roisin and Grear to his tent. It was one of the sturdier ones in the camp, as he’d brought it with him from Eire, and was pitched some distance from where most of the other tents huddled.
But it was still merely a tent.
He lifted the flap and Roisin stepped inside. Once, he’d imagined taking her back to Balfour Castle, despairing that it was in such a state of neglect. But at least Balfour possessed stone walls and a serviceable roof, and while its tapestries had seen better days, they still kept the chill at bay.
Here, the ground was damp, and the tent was empty, since he kept everything he owned secured upon his person, and when Grear took Roisin’s hand and shivered, he silently cursed at his negligence. He needed to procure dry clothes at the very least for Roisin and her maid, but to smooth over the encounter with Darragh, he’d just handed over all of Roisin’s possessions. He hoped it wasn’t too late to salvage something before everything disappeared.
With an awkward grunt he bowed his head and hastily retreated. Darragh was supervising four other men who were removing a trunk from the back of the wagon and unhitching the string of horses they’d collected from both Roisin’s men and the bandits.
Goddamn it.Logically he knew whether he’d offered or not, Darragh would have appropriated the wagon’s contents, but he still felt responsible. There was no way Darragh would’ve only accepted the horses in exchange for Roisin’s safety, even though such a windfall was nothing short of a miracle for the chieftain.
Since there was no other option but to brazen it out, he strode over to the other man.
“I’ll take the lady’s personal items before the rest is distributed.”
“Will ye, now.” Darragh didn’t even bother to take his gaze from appraising the horses.
“Aye. There’s plenty to go around.”
Silence thudded in the air between them. Hugh kept his gaze fixed on the wagon, keeping a deliberately relaxed air about him, as though he had no qualms about his claim. Darragh would pick up on any sign that he wasn’t certain of his stance and use it to crush him.
The men placed the trunk on the ground before Darragh, who eyed it speculatively. Then he looked at Hugh.
“Take what the lady needs and nothing more.”
Hugh gave a sharp nod and opened the trunk.
Reams of fabric greeted him, and his heart sank. It appeared Roisin had packed a great many gowns and other feminine accessories. What the devil should he take back to her? He had no idea but, with a firm purpose he was far from feeling, he peeled away the top layer of material in the hope that might solve the problem.
Beneath the gown an assortment of exquisitely embroidered baby clothes confronted him, and heat crawled through him at the implication. Christ, were William and Isolde expecting a bairn?
Darragh gave a snort of amusement. “Maybe yer bonny lass is already wedded and bedded, Hugh. Ye had best hope she has no angry husband on her tail.”
Hugh ignored the other man’s jibe and grimly tossed a couple of gowns over his arm before retrieving a thick blanket. But the words burrowed deep into his brain, and he couldn’t dislodge them.
WasRoisin married? Despite the notion crossing his mind during the last year or so, it hadn’t occurred to him to ask her. He’d simply assumed she wasn’t.
But for all he knew she might be meeting her husband at William’s and that was why she was so eager to get to Creagdoun.
Several women joined him and started sorting through Roisin’spossessions, and the baby clothes were snatched up in an instant. He stood back and glanced at the wagon.
