Chapter 30
“Where is he?” Rory asked with deadly calm.
“I ran,” she whispered, not wanting the men in her cellar to hear her. “Out the back door. I took him out to the woods.”
“Why the hell would ye do that?” he nearly yelled.
“Shhh.” She looked toward the corner. Rory didn’t know about the refugees, and she couldn’t tell him now.
He lowered his voice anyway. “Why did ye lead him into the woods?”
“I wasn’t thinking. I just ran.” Her heart was racing as she thought about what had just happened. A different sort of fear settled into her. She was going to die. She hadn’t cheated death today; she’d merely postponed it.
“So he’s in the woods? Where in the woods?”
She waved her hand vaguely in the direction where she’d left his body. “Over that way. About a ten-minute walk. They’re going to come for me, Rory. The English will arrest me.”
Rory had a sick expression and she knew he was thinking the same thing. The English would put the entire might of their country behind them for the death of a soldier who was a man of nobility as well. No one could help her now.
“Maybe not,” Rory said.
She looked at him through blurry eyes. Her head pounded and her bruises ached. Her lip was swelling more, and she was suddenly so exhausted that she didn’t even know if she could keep standing.
“The others think he was sent to the north, right? I doubt he told anyone that he’d doubled back. I’m sure his plan was to…” Rory flushed and looked away, and Cait shuddered, well aware of what his plan had been. “Most likely no one knows he was here. I’ll go looking for him. Do ye have a shovel?”
A tremor ran through her body as she remembered Donaldson rambling about wishing he’d brought a shovel. “In the barn.”
Rory nodded and headed toward the back door before pausing. “The horse is still out front. Bring him into the barn and I’ll figure out what to do with him later.”
She nodded, relieved to have something to do. She guided Donaldson’s horse into her paddock, finding it strange that she was taking care of his beast after she’d just killed him. Soon she found herself back in the cottage, looking around, feeling lost, and hurting all over.
Her mind was curiously blank, and the panic she should be feeling wasn’t there. She vaguely wondered what Rory was doing, but her mind couldn’t hold that thought for long before it floated away.
She didn’t want to hope, but she couldn’t help herself. What if Rory was right? Could she get away with killing an English soldier? Could she live with herself, knowing what she had done?
It was evening when Black Cat alerted her that someone was approaching.
It had to be Rory. He hadn’t returned and she was becoming nervous.
She peered out of the front window, and her heart did a little flip to see Iain riding up.
She’d been anticipating and dreading this moment and stood in the middle of her sitting room, waiting for him.
She’d come up with and discarded so many stories of what she could tell him.
In the end she knew she couldn’t lie to him; she also knew that telling him would seal her fate.
He strode in. “Cait!” he called. He stopped short and stared at her, the light in his eyes fading to fury. “My God.”
Tears ran down her face, burning her cuts, her body shaking as she tried to hold in her sobs. She hadn’t realized just how much she needed him until she saw him.
“Who did this to you?”
Her lip trembled and she bit it, forgetting that it was cut. Pain shot through her face and she winced.
He approached her slowly, his gaze landing on every bruise, every cut. Gently, he lifted her hands and turned the palms up to look at the shredded skin. Tenderly, he kissed each palm. The look in his eyes was anything but gentle.
“Who did this?” he asked again.
“Donaldson.”
He stood there for a moment as if digesting that information. “I will kill him.”
“I already did.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
Her tears came faster. A sob escaped and she held out her arms. He quickly gathered her in and she collapsed against him, sobbing silently, well aware that there were four men in her cellar who could hear.
He rubbed her back, holding her firmly but not tightly enough to hurt. It felt so good to lean in to his strength and cry. She wasn’t sure what she was crying the most about—killing a man or the loss of the life she could have had with Iain.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.
He pulled away enough to look down on her and wiped at her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “What are you apologizing for?”
“I killed a man,” she whispered. “An English soldier. They’re going to take me away.”
“No, they won’t. I won’t allow it.”
“Ye can’t stop it.” Iain might think he was above reproach with the English, but this was beyond his sphere of influence. The feeling of doom that had been building inside her blossomed. “I’m so sorry. I truly wanted us to have a life together.”
“Hush,” he said. “Stop talking like that. We’ll have our life together.”
She grabbed his hand and squeezed even though it pained her raw palm. “I killed an English soldier.”
“He attacked you. You were defending yourself.”
“Ye think that matters to them? Ye have no idea what the English are really like.”
He searched her face but didn’t argue. “Tell me what happened.”
She told him as best she could, in disjointed sentences, between hiccups and tears. The more she talked, the more the mask fell across his features. His eyes darkened, and even though his touch was tender, his body was wound tight.
A soft knock on the door had both of them jumping. Cait put a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. Their gazes locked. She was shaking so hard that she was sure her knees were knocking.
“I won’t let them take you,” he said fiercely.
There was another knock, followed by three quick raps.
“It’s Sutherland,” she said, her relief so enormous that she had to clutch Iain’s arm to keep from falling over. “That’s his knock. I don’t want him to see me like this. I don’t want him to know about…what happened.”
“Go upstairs,” Iain said. “I’ll help him get the people out.”
She fled up the stairs, pulling herself up as fast as she could, and collapsed on her bed, feeling sick.
Downstairs there were quiet voices and shuffling, then silence.
Cait closed her eyes and wished she could go to sleep and wake up to start the day all over again.
She would take Iain up on his offer of marriage right away, instead of wasting precious time arguing, and she would help him clear the north field.
She wouldn’t feel ashamed that she was in a relationship with Iain. She would be proud.
However, she couldn’t relive any of that, and she couldn’t change what had happened and what was going to happen. Her only hope was that Rory would find the body and hide it, but then she would live her entire life afraid that someone would discover her secret.
Strong arms came around her and she leaned in to Iain’s shoulder, too weary and numb to cry.
“They’re gone,” he said. “I told Sutherland you weren’t feeling well and to leave you be for a bit.”
She nodded.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I can’t,” she said.
“You should eat something or you’ll be sick.”
“I’ll be sick either way.”
He helped her lie down and quickly rounded the bed to lie behind her and take her in his arms. Her eyes drifted closed and exhaustion took over.
But her sleep wasn’t peaceful. She dreamed of being chased through the forest. She dreamed of Donaldson’s confused eyes right after she clubbed him on the head.
Whenever the dreams got too bad, Iain woke her and held her and rubbed her back until she fell asleep again.
They were startled by a pounding on the front door, and Cait came awake with a jolt, sitting up straight and hissing at the pain and stiffness. She felt like she’d been dragged by a horse.
“Open up, Iain Campbell!”
Iain cursed and swung his legs off the bed. “It’s Palmer.”
“Oh, God,” she whimpered.
“You don’t know why he’s here. He could just be looking for me.”
“Ye know that’s not true.” They’d found Donaldson’s body and somehow figured out that she’d caused his death.
“Stay here,” Iain commanded.
She crept to the top of the stairs so she could listen. They were talking quietly, but she could clearly hear them. “Donaldson has been killed,” Palmer was saying in a grave voice.
“Good,” Iain said. “He threatened Cait, and I’m not sorry that he met his end.”
There was a short silence during which Cait held her breath. Was this what her life was to be like? Hiding whenever Palmer came around, terrified that he would discover her secret?
“This is the third soldier killed, two of them near your land and now Donaldson on your land,” Palmer said.
“What are you saying?” Iain asked.
“I find it suspicious.”
“You think I killed them?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why confront me with this? What do you want?”
“Captain?”
A new voice entered the conversation, younger and unsure. There was silence. Cait thought she heard whispering but wasn’t certain.
“Where is Mrs. Campbell?” Palmer asked sharply.
“Unavailable,” Iain snapped back.
“We need to speak to her.”
“No.”
Cait walked down the steps. “I’m here,” she said.
“Cait—” Iain warned, but she kept her gaze on Palmer. He looked severe, but his look turned to shock when he saw her face.
“Good Lord,” he said, but then seemed to shake himself from his shock. “Donaldson was found dead, Mrs. Campbell. And I’ve just been informed that his horse is in your paddock.”
She blanched, having completely forgotten about his horse.
“Do you care to explain to me why my dead lieutenant’s horse is in your paddock?”
“Don’t say a thing, Cait,” Iain said.
She held her hand out to him and he took it. She squeezed but kept her gaze on Palmer. “I can’t explain that, Captain.”
After a moment, Palmer nodded. “I’m afraid I have to take you with me for questioning regarding Lieutenant Donaldson’s death.”
“No!” Iain exploded, but Cait kept a firm grip on his hand, holding him in place. “I won’t let him take you,” he told her.
She looked at Iain steadily. “There is no choice.”
Iain turned to Palmer. “Look at her. She’s been beaten. Who do you think did that?”
Palmer’s gaze went to her face and then slid away. “I have to do my duty and investigate my officer’s death.”
“I killed him,” Iain said. “I came upon him attacking Cait and I killed him.”
“No!” Cait stepped between them and faced Palmer. “It was me. I did it. He chased me into the forest and attacked me. I hit him with a tree branch.”
Palmer looked between Cait and Iain, uncertain.
“Do you really believe her, Palmer? Do you think she has the strength to kill a man with a tree branch? She’s just trying to protect me.”
She spun around to face Iain. “Why are ye doing this?” she hissed.
He looked at her steadily. “Because I love you.”
“Very well,” Palmer said. “Iain Campbell, you are to come with me for questioning in the matter of Lieutenant Donaldson’s death.”
“Stop this!” Cait yelled. “Ye can’t do this.” She didn’t know whom she was addressing, Palmer for taking Iain away or Iain for lying on her behalf.
Neither man paid her any mind. Palmer led Iain out and Cait hurried after them. The young soldier with Palmer was leading Donaldson’s horse around the side of the house. Iain approached his own horse and was about to mount when Cait gripped his arm.
“I love ye,” she said. “I love ye, Iain Campbell, but right now I am so angry at ye. How can ye do this?”
He grinned. “You love me?”
She huffed out a frustrated breath. How could he be so nonchalant at a time like this? “Aye. I love ye, and our life together is no’ going to end like this. I’ll find help.”
His grin faded. “Find Sutherland. Have him fetch MacLean. Tell them I’m calling in the favors they owe me.”
“Come, Campbell. We have a long day of riding ahead of us.”
Cait kissed Iain, refusing to cry. She stepped back and looked at Palmer. “Where are ye taking him?”
Palmer hesitated as if he didn’t want to tell her, but then said, “Fort Augustus.”
She looked at him in shock. “Fort Augustus? That’s a long ride from here.
” And it was where Cumberland was headquartered.
She shivered in real fear, more fear than when she thought she was going to be arrested.
She turned back to Iain. “Tell him the truth. Tell him it was me. He’ll believe ye.
Ye can’t go to Fort Augustus.” She’d heard numerous horror stories of that place.
A prison from which no one escaped unless they were dead.
“Never,” Iain said. “I’d never willingly send you there. Find Sutherland and MacLean. They will help you.”
Palmer rode up. “Enough whispering,” he said harshly. “It’s time to go.”
With one last long look, Iain turned his mount and the three of them rode away.