Chapter Eleven #2
As they moved on to the fruit stall, Hugh moved closer to her, so that her arm brushed against his body. The air evaporated and she was strangely lightheaded as her heartbeat echoed in her ears, but for all that she berated herself by reacting so to his touch, she wouldn’t change it for anything.
“As long as he’s with ye, I’m certain he is happy.”
“I cannot imagine ever being without him.” A shiver raced through her at the prospect, and with it a sliver of fear. “But he is eleven, and although he still runs around like a young pup, his years are catching up with him.”
He flashed her a glance that was filled with concern and they came to a halt a short distance from the fruit stall. “Ye grew up together.”
She sighed. “I was nine when he was born, along with his littermates Sjor and Dubh. Their dam was Amma’s favorite, and she gifted the pups to my sisters and me.
We had recently received word that our parents had died of the fever on the mainland and although, of course, nothing could ease our grief, having sweet Ecne by my side helped me get through the dark hours. ”
“I’m sorry.” His voice was hushed, and she gave him a faint smile.
“I’m sorry too. I can scarcely remember them, and that breaks my heart.”
“My lady mother also died of the fever eleven years ago.”
“That is a sad coincidence, indeed.”
“I’m fortunate that I had almost fourteen years with her. My wee sister was scarcely two years old when she died and cannot recall a thing about her.”
Her heart tugged for the unknown young lass who had barely known her mother. “Ye have two sisters, do ye not?”
“Aye, Mary is my youngest sister, and Agnes will be sixteen next month.”
She heard the anguish in his voice. It was clear he missed his sisters and again she couldn’t fathom what terrible crime he could have committed that had condemned him to an existence as an outlaw.
It was likely best to move the conversation on, but she couldn’t help herself. “I’m sure they must miss ye.”
He swallowed and looked away from her, focusing on the nearby stall and before she could think better of it, she threaded her fingers through his. Warmth suffused her when he fisted his hand, entrapping her fingers, as though in a small way her gesture had given him comfort.
“Aye.” There was an undeniable catch in his voice, and any lingering reservations she’d harbored that maybe the earl had just reason for treating him so harshly dispersed like early morning mist on a summer’s morn. “I should dearly like to know how they fare.”
She recalled he’d once told her he was a second son. “What of yer older brother? Have ye no way to contact him, to find out how yer kin are?”
His mirthless laugh sent a shiver along her spine.
“It’s been well over a year since I last saw him and I’ve no way of contacting him.
My brother—” He hesitated, as though he were unsure whether to continue, and then he shook his head and expelled a deep sigh.
“I shouldn’t speak of him to ye, Roisin. I don’t know what he’s doing.”
If only there was something she could do to take away the pain that throbbed so clearly through every word Hugh said. And then something occurred to her that she could do, even if it meant visiting people she had never seen before.
“When I am reunited with my kin, I could give a message to yer sisters, if ye would like.”
He stared at her as though he couldn’t quite believe his ears. “Ye’d do that?”
She shoved the tendrils of anxiety that her rash offer had awoken to the back of her mind.
It was, after all, such a small thing if it gave Hugh some peace of mind.
In any case, she was more than hopeful that, when the time came, he would be able to give his sisters whatever messages he wished himself.
“I am. I’m certain it will greatly relieve them to know ye are alive and well.” Even if he had taken refuge with the Campbells’ bitterest enemy.
“That’s kind of ye.” There was a gruff note in his voice. “And make no mistake, I’m grateful for it. But ’tis best they know nothing about this life I’m leading. I shouldn’t wish them to think ill of me when there’s no way I can—” He clamped his jaw together, but she understood.
It didn’t matter how circumspect the message was. His sisters were bound to ask questions, and what could she tell them? They would be sure to guess she was withholding something, and she wasn’t certain she could make up a story if they put her on the spot.
But how dreadful it was that they—and Hugh’s father—might think he was dead.
Her hope that he would turn his back on this life and confront the earl for his unjust banishment surged through her and she couldn’t keep silent any longer.
“Maybe when I leave, ye can join me. There must be a way ye can reclaim yer former life, Hugh. Surely the way ye rescued Grear and me from the brigands will stand ye in good stead with the earl.”
His smile was sad, and it told her all she needed to know. He had no intention of leaving the rebels when he took her to Creagdoun.