Page 66 of Abducted By the Highlander
Something in his tone alerted her that, perhaps, she was treading on dangerous ground, although she wasn’t sure why. Nevertheless, she picked her words with care. “Only because Fergus was a danger to me, my lord. Hugh wanted to reassure me I was safe.”
“What else did he tell ye?”
“That he had been a redshank in Eire. My lord, I don’t know why he is living as an outcast, but I beseech ye to look favorably upon him, so he might return to his rightful place in Clan Campbell.”
The tension that had suddenly spiked between them faded. What had the earl suspected she was going to say?
“Lady Roisin, ye may rest assured Hugh has my favor, as he always has. Frankly, I don’t know why he didn’t cross the river with ye. No matter. My scouts are out there, and we shall find him when we hunt down the remainder of Fergus MacGregor’s misbegotten kin.”
With that, he bowed his head in farewell before wheeling around and speaking with his men, while she stared after him in confusion.
Hugh had always had the earl’s favor?
“Come, Roisin.” Freyja gave her a piercing look. “We must leave.”
She tore her gaze from the earl and focused on her sister. “No. I’m going to find Hugh.”
There was no mistaking the alarm that flashed over Freyja’s face. “Indeed, ye are not. What has come over ye, Roisin? Ye are behaving most unlike yerself.”
“Take Grear back to Dunochty. I’m certain the earl will see I’m safely escorted to ye once Hugh is found.”
“I’ll do no such thing.” Freyja seemed outraged by the very idea. “If I cannot persuade ye to see sense, then I shall join ye in this foolish quest. Grear can remain here with guards to protect her until we return.”
The earl and his men were preparing to leave, apart from half a dozen who remained in the glen, doubtless with the intention to escort her and Freyja to Dunochty, but who now could protect Grear.She urged her mare forward and joined the back of the contingent, and Freyja and Alasdair flanked her.
She was thankful to be reunited with her sister, but she couldn’t leave things like this with Hugh. If she went to Dunochty without speaking to him, who knew if she would ever see him again?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hugh waited untilRoisin was halfway across the river before he left the glen. The earl had seen him and looked straight through him without acknowledgement. It was plain enough that his presence was unwanted. Better to disappear unobtrusively than risk Roisin witnessing the earl’s slight.
He would find Symon and keep his promise to return to Eire. If the earl wanted him, he knew how to find him through his spiderweb network. But his heart was heavy as he retraced his steps as the inevitability of a lifetime without Roisin by his side wrapped dank claws about his shoulders.
He made good time, and when he reached the point where he’d parted ways with Symon, it wasn’t hard to track Darragh’s progress through the forest. Up ahead, light streamed through the canopy, revealing a small clearing. His years of training kicked in and even though he couldn’t see anything untoward, his senses went onto alert.
And then he heard it. The unmistakable sound of steel clashing against steel, and the familiar blazing energy that always preceded a battle surged through his veins. He sucked in a long breath to calm his mind and pulled up at the edge of the clearing. Two of Darragh’s men lay lifeless on the ground, arrows protruding from their throats, and Darragh and Symon both fought on foot with two, he surmised, of the earl’s scouts.
Goddamn it.If they were the earl’s men, he should turn and leave. But suppose they were not? He’d never run from a fight in his life, andhe wasn’t about to start now. He leapt from Fhortan and drew his sword and then, as though he were trapped in a nightmare and his limbs had turned to stone, he saw one of the strangers plunge his sword through Symon’s chest.
Symon dropped to the ground as his assailant whirled about to attack Darragh, who had thrown off the other man. Heart thundering, and denial pounding in his head, Hugh charged into the clearing and fell to his knees beside Symon.
Blood soaked his shirt. Hugh pressed his hand against the wound, but he knew, in his heart, it would do no good.
Symon opened his eyes. “Sergeant,” he rasped. “Knew ye’d come back.”
“I said I would.” Hugh attempted to grin, but it hurt too much. If he hadn’t left, he might have saved Symon. But if he had stayed, Roisin wouldn’t have escaped. And his priority had always, would always, be her.
But it didn’t help to ease the savage pain tearing through his heart.
“Caught us by surprise. Felled two before they charged us.” Blood seeped from Symon’s mouth and his eyes closed as though it was too much effort to keep them open. Hugh shot a glance at Darragh and the earl’s man—or was he a bandit? Hugh didn’t care. Either way, the man wouldn’t be leaving this forest.
“Save yer strength.” His throat ached as Symon once again looked at him. His eyes were glazed, and his fingers clutched at Hugh’s plaid. Hugh swallowed and forced a positive note in his voice. “I’ll soon get ye out of here, never fear.”
“I won’t… won’t be leaving here, Sergeant. But ’tis been an honor to serve with ye. ’Twas a good day when we met in Eire.”
He remembered that day. Remembered too, all the days he and Symon had ridden into battle together; the evenings when they’d drunk ale and he’d listened to Symon’s tales; and the winter nights when they’d huddled over a fire to keep the chill at bay.
Symon had been by his side for over a year. A staunch ally who had always had his back and had never questioned Hugh’s reasons for why he was a redshank, fighting for survival.
