Chapter Twenty #2
But a terrible thread of doubt assailed her. It was true she’d witnessed him speaking to the innkeeper’s wife, before he’d strode with purpose as though he knew exactly where he was heading. But she hadn’t seen him actually give anyone her letter, had she? She had simply taken his word for it.
But he wouldn’t lie to her. Why would he? He was committed to reuniting her with her kin, just as she was committed to ensuring that when she did, he would join her.
“Lady Roisin is not my lady love.” Hugh sounded incensed by the notion, and Roisin involuntarily clutched Ecne as a despairing pain lanced through her breast. Did he really mean that? Or was he merely trying to protect her reputation against Darragh’s insinuations?
“Then ye’re a bigger Campbell bastard than I took ye for.”
“I swore to protect her, that’s all. There’s nothing between us.”
Ecne gave a small whimper at how tightly she hugged him, and it was an effort to loosen her arms around him when all she wanted to do was bury her burning face in his familiar fur.
But she couldn’t afford such an indulgence.
It didn’t matter how she wished the ground would open and swallow her whole so she could escape this unraveling nightmare.
She needed to get back to the small cave and compose herself before she saw Hugh again.
Before she could even take a breath, both Hugh and Darragh emerged from behind the rocks, having clearly heard Ecne’s whimper, and the expression of horror on Hugh’s face as the realization hit him that she had overheard his conversation caused her heart to squeeze with mortification.
Aye, mortification. That was all this was, and she would recover from it. For she could never recover from a shattered heart.
“Roisin.” He sounded as though he’d torn her name through the bowels of hell itself. “Are ye all right?”
She summoned up every shred of pride she retained, straightened her shoulders and gave him a withering glare. At least, she hoped it was withering. “Why shouldn’t I be? What a foolish question, Hugh Campbell.”
Darragh, damn the man, laughed, even though he didn’t sound especially amused. “There goes my leverage over ye, Hugh.”
“Lady Roisin.” Hugh took a step closer and then froze as though something in her eyes warned him. Did he think by using her title he could somehow soften her up? Make her forget what she had overheard?
Lady Roisin is not my lady love.
“I must speak to ye alone.”
“Must ye?” Is that truly my voice? She sounded so cold. As though none of this was tearing her apart inside. And thank God for that. It was bad enough she had misjudged him so, without the added humiliation of him seeing how deeply his deception had wounded her.
“Aye, he must, if he wants to win yer favor once more.” Darragh cast Hugh an unpleasant glance before returning his attention to her.
“But I’ll tell ye something else. Fergus wanted to take ye with him so he could return ye to yer kin without any further delay.
But Hugh here wouldn’t hear of it. Yer self-appointed protector believes only he has the right to decide yer fate. ”
Something akin to guilt flashed across Hugh’s face before he rounded on the other man. “That’s not true, and ye know it.”
“’Tis true enough.”
“Fergus,” Hugh sounded as though he were having trouble just saying the name. “Had his own agenda that didn’t include taking Lady Roisin to her kin.”
“Told ye that, did he?”
“A parting shot in the town. After ye left.”
Had Fergus really offered to take her to her kin?
She wasn’t sure she believed Darragh, except if it was a lie, why had Hugh looked so guilty?
But regardless, the prospect of going anywhere with Fergus made her flesh crawl.
Whatever Hugh had done, or not done, the truth was she would rather stay by his side than Fergus’s, but that wasn’t the point. Hugh hadn’t given her the choice.
“After I left?” For some reason, Darragh appeared confused by that statement, but Hugh didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned to her and for a despairing heartbeat, as she gazed into his mesmerizing blue eyes, she wished she had never overheard the damning exchange between the two men.
But if she hadn’t, she would still be living in a fantastical web she had woven herself from nothing more substantial than foolish daydreams and tales of the fae.
For while she had believed their fates were entwined, it seemed Hugh believed only in himself.
Despite the times she’d tried to coax a promise from him, not once had he spoken of leaving with her. And after they had made love, she’d been so sure, in her heart, that he’d do anything to gain the earl’s pardon so they could be together.
But none of it had been real outside of her own imagination.
“This is not what it seems.”
Was she imagining that note of desperation in his voice? She probably was. Did he think she might disclose that he wasn’t an ordinary Campbell at all but Hugh Campbell of Balfour Castle, something she knew Darragh would never forgive?
As if she would. She had promised to say nothing of that, and unlike some people, she kept her promises. “Alas, it seems very clear to me.”
“I’ll tell ye what’s clear.” Darragh’s eye bored into her before he turned to Hugh.
“I’m taking Lady Roisin MacDonald to Fergus’s camp, and that’s the end of it.
Ye can accompany me and continue protecting yer precious noblewoman, or ye can join the others heading to Eire, but either way this discussion is now over. ”
With that, he marched back to the caves leaving her alone with Hugh.
“Roisin.” Urgency throbbed through his voice, but she refused to acknowledge his concern.
Why was he concerned, anyway? She was as securely trapped today as she had been on the day he’d first brought her to Darragh’s camp.
Even if she and Grear escaped, where would they go?
She had no idea where they were. They could ride for days without encountering another soul, and what were the chances that if they did meet anyone, they would be inclined to help?
She was, after all, no longer in the Small Isles, where everyone knew of the MacDonald daughters of Sgur Castle and who would no sooner harm them than they would chop off their own arm.
Instead, they were trapped in the wild Highlands where, it seemed, enemies lurked in every shadow, and no one could be trusted.
“Roisin,” Hugh said again, and she reluctantly caught his gaze. Why, even now when she could no longer believe anything he said, did butterflies collide within her breast and starlight spike through her blood every time she looked at him?
“What?” She wanted to sound indifferent, but instead she just sounded so weary she wished she hadn’t said anything at all.
He took a step closer to her, and Ecne wriggled with excitement in her arms.
“I couldn’t risk sending yer letter.” His voice was low, as though he imparted a great secret, but she didn’t know why he bothered. No one was around to hear him. “If it fell into the wrong hands, it could have put ye in danger.”
“It did fall into the wrong hands.”
He sucked in a jagged breath, and she couldn’t fathom why the sound made her heart ache so. Perhaps this was what the death rattle of love felt like.
“That’s down to my carelessness.” Frustration threaded through his confession but if he expected her to be impressed by his candor, he was sadly mistaken. “But ye’re right. I should’ve destroyed it.”
Her lethargy vanished, and she glared at him. “Is that supposed to make me feel better about the fact ye lied to me?”
“I didn’t want to run the risk of anyone connecting ye to William Campbell. And I was right to be cautious. Fergus MacGregor knew exactly who William was.”
It was just as well she was still holding Ecne, as she had the alarming conviction that otherwise she may have slapped Hugh’s face.
“Ye still don’t understand, do ye? It’s not that ye didn’t send the letter to Isolde. Ye could have told me ye thought it too dangerous. But no. Ye let me believe it was possible and that ye had found a messenger to take it to her. Why would ye do that?”
She wasn’t sure he could look more taken aback even if she had physically attacked him. “I tried to tell ye it was dangerous. But ye were so set on it. I couldn’t take away the hope shining in yer eyes.”
Stung, she stared at him as she recalled their conversation on the way to the town that day. And realized that he had, indeed, told her sending a message to her sister was dangerous.
But she’d insisted. And he had capitulated. Or so she thought.
He’d never intended to send her letter. And the reason he’d agreed to, simply so she had hope to cling to, was somehow even worse than him deciding not to for his own purposes. As though she was a fragile creature who needed coddling.
“I see.” Ecne continued to struggle in her arms, but she wasn’t going to release him because she knew he would greet Hugh.
How happy she had always been that her beloved dog was so fond of Hugh Campbell.
She had taken it as another sign that she and Hugh were meant to be together, for Ecne had impeccable taste when it came to who he bestowed his affection upon.
It appeared both she and her dog had lost their senses when it came to Hugh.
She settled Ecne more securely in her arms and attempted to find whatever remained of her pride.
“How exactly were ye planning on escorting me to Creagdoun? Ye never did tell me. If I couldn’t send a letter to Isolde, I imagine it was too dangerous for ye to communicate with yer mysterious contact, too. Was that all another fabrication?”