Chapter Nine
Roisin rode the same mare she had hired when they’d docked at Oban. Was it really only the previous day? It seemed like a lifetime ago. And against all common sense, riding beside Hugh, as they made their way along a mountain pass, felt like the most natural thing in the world.
She exhaled a long breath and concentrated on the path ahead.
She would die from mortification if Hugh caught the surreptitious glances she kept darting his way.
With everything that had happened, she was certain she should remain infuriated with him, instead of this odd sense of calm that had descended as soon as they’d left the camp.
But then, Hugh had always made her feel ways she never had before. But back on Eigg, before he had left with Isolde and William, she’d never been conflicted about it. She had simply reveled in it.
Briefly, she squeezed her eyes shut. Not that it helped to center her.
She fixed her gaze ahead, where Symon led the way with the horses he and Hugh were to sell in the town.
She was also aware that two men from the camp followed them, keeping out of sight, as a surprise backup in case they were attacked.
A shiver wracked her, and she tightened her grip on the reins. She hoped the loyal men who had accompanied her from Eigg had been found by now and given the respect they deserved.
Before she could stop herself, she glanced at Hugh once again.
His face was grim as he stared ahead, as though he weren’t even aware of her presence.
She bit her lip and tried not to notice how magnificent he looked astride the proud stallion but since that was impossible, she settled for admiring his captivating profile instead.
Without warning, he looked at her and heat washed through her, burning her cheeks.
Curse it. Isolde and Freyja had never blushed like fools or become tongue-tied if a man so much as glanced sideways at them.
Did Hugh think her as na?ve as the MacGregor women had, until she’d offered to share her medicinal stocks with them?
It was bad enough knowing the women had thought her too sheltered to understand basic life skills, but it was far worse if Hugh thought the same.
On Eigg he’d been gratifyingly admiring of her artwork and texts and certainly had appeared to be genuinely interested when she’d shared the myths behind them.
But what if he believed she possessed no practical competence at all?
To be sure, until they had left the Isle both of her sisters were the practical ones, and she had merely done whatever was required of her.
It was only during the last year after Freyja had wed Alasdair that their grandmother had started to include her in the castle’s administrative decisions.
Amma hadn’t really any choice, had she? Roisin was the only daughter of Sgur left.
It had never really troubled her before, but now the knowledge stung.
She wasn’t brave like her sisters, but that didn’t mean she was incapable of strategic thought.
And so, to prove it to Hugh, she said what had been playing on her mind ever since Darragh had informed her she was accompanying Hugh and Symon on their mission.
“When we reach the town, do ye think I might send a message to Isolde to let her know I’m still alive?”
“A message?” He sounded as though the concept was utterly foreign to him.
Somewhat aggrieved by his response, she said, “Why are ye so surprised? I only want to let her know there’s no need to worry about me.
” She was certain her sisters and Amma would worry until she was safely reunited with them, but at least she could let them know she wasn’t dead.
“Isolde shouldn’t have that burden. I’d never forgive myself if—” She sucked in a sharp breath.
She’d never forgive herself if the shock of thinking she had died in an ambush caused her sister to lose her longed-for bairn.
Understanding flickered over his face, although it was gone in an instant. “’Tis too dangerous.” His voice was low and although he sounded sympathetic, it didn’t make her feel any better about the fact he’d completely dismissed her concerns.
“Ye needn’t worry I’ll mention yer name.” She couldn’t quite hide her irritation, and he frowned, as though he thought she was being unreasonable. And that irked her even more. “Or that I’m in a rebel MacGregor camp. I just need them to know I wasn’t taken by brigands.”
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, and kind, 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 would likely 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, and she 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.”