Chapter 35
“Eleanor?”
“What do you want, Thomas?” She was sitting at her window looking out over the bailey.
He approached and stood beside her to look out the window as well. “I apologize.”
“For what?”
“For not fully comprehending when you told me what had happened to you.”
She glanced up at him. “Did you think I would make something like that up?” She held her wrists up. “Do you think I did this to myself to back up my story?”
The skin over his cheekbones tightened. He looked pale. “I…I don’t know what I thought. Your story seemed so implausible. Treachery, treason, imprisonment. An improbable escape.”
“Ah, yes. The thing of good books and an overactive imagination, because I had nothing else to do, whiling away my time in Scotland.”
His jaw worked and yet he did not look at her. “There’s no need to be difficult.”
She laughed. “But being difficult is so much better than being compliant.” She slid off the bench and left her room. As she entered the great hall, her angry strides slowed and she passed a weary hand across her brow. “Men.” She looked up to see Hannah leaning against the table in front of her.
“Men,” Hannah agreed. She pushed away from the table and patted Eleanor on the arm. “Don’t let them get ye down. Ye do what ye want.” She winked and walked into Lachlan’s waiting arms. The two wandered up the stairs and disappeared.
“Easy for you to say when you have your own man,” Eleanor muttered.
The castle doors opened and Brice strode in. Behind him followed a man she’d never seen. He was tall and lanky, with short dark hair and dark eyes. He wore breeches and a white shirt, a waistcoat, and a leather coat that hit the heels of his knee-high boots.
Curious, Eleanor watched as Brice led him to the group of chairs that circled the fireplace. A low fire was burning there, enough to give light but not a whole lot of heat.
Eleanor sidled closer, interested in this new man. He appeared dark and dangerous, and she could tell Brice wasn’t entirely comfortable with him.
“Eleanor, come closer.”
She jumped, unaware that Brice knew she was near. She walked up to them and studied the newcomer closely. He smiled at her, but it wasn’t a complete smile, more of a curling of the lips that never reached the dark eyes.
“Iain Campbell, this is Lady Eleanor Hirst, the Countess of Glendale, daughter of the Earl of Hopewell. Eleanor, this is Iain Campbell, Marquis of Kirr.”
So this was the Campbell. The man no one liked. She could see why. He was cold and distant, inviting no confidences.
She tilted her head to him instead of curtsying. “My lord.”
A touch of amusement lightened his eyes. “My lady.” Campbell studied her for a moment with an expression that told her no one got under his skin and he let no one into his thoughts.
“I came as soon as I could,” Campbell said to Brice, pulling his gaze away. He crossed one boot over his knee, his black leather coat falling open. He wasn’t dressed as a Highlander and spoke more like a Lowlander.
“I appreciate ye taking time to come up here.”
Those lips curled again. “It’s hardly that far. We are neighbors, after all.” He made a show of looking around the hall. “Although this is the first time I’ve entered your walls.”
Though Brice appeared chagrined, Eleanor was more and more intrigued and slid onto a chair to listen. Brice leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and pin Campbell with a direct look. “We need yer help,” he said simply.
Campbell raised a brow. “It’s not often that a Sutherland asks for help.”
“It occurs occasionally,” Brice said. “Eleanor needs safe passage back to England.”
The words stabbed Eleanor in the heart. Campbell flicked a glance at her and steepled his fingers under his chin.
“Her brother as well,” Brice said.
“You need me to do this?”
“The English leave ye alone. Ye’re the only one I can trust to get her there unharmed.”
Campbell looked between them with narrowed eyes but let nothing of his thoughts show on his face. “Tell me what’s really going on,” he said.
Eleanor looked at Brice, wondering if he would tell Campbell the truth.
Thomas wandered down, saw them sitting there, and headed toward them. Brice made the introductions, and for the first time Thomas seemed more relaxed. More than likely it had to do with Campbell’s appearance.
Campbell nodded at him, then turned his attention to Brice. “You were going to tell me a story?”
Brice flicked a glance at Eleanor and proceeded to tell Campbell everything. She wasn’t certain it was the right decision, but she trusted Brice and would trust him in this as well.
When he was finished, Campbell stared into the fire and didn’t speak for a long time. Brice sat back, appearing at ease. Thomas’s gaze flickered back and forth, and Eleanor felt as if the very air were standing still.
“You’re making the wrong move,” Campbell finally said. “Going to London isn’t the answer. You need to go to Fort Augustus.”
The thought turned Eleanor’s blood to ice. She wanted to stand up and run from the room. She would never, ever go back to Fort Augustus. Never.
“Confront the devil in his own lair?” Brice asked.
Campbell nodded thoughtfully. “Put him on the defensive right away. Take him off guard.”
“It’s brilliant,” Brice said.
“No, it’s not,” Eleanor said. “I’m not going back to Fort Augustus.”
Campbell regarded her as if he’d forgotten she was there. As if he’d forgotten this was about her and her murdered husband.
“I agree,” Thomas said, finally stirring. “She needs to go back to London to be with our family. I’ll not be dragging her across Scotland to confront that devil. She’s been through enough.”
Campbell shrugged. “Obviously it’s your choice.”
“Running to London isn’t going to solve anything,” Brice said. “Blackwood will know ye have gone. He’ll get his story together before ye even get there.”
“She’s not going to Fort Augustus,” Thomas said. “We are returning to London.”
Eleanor looked at her brother. Was this about Thomas returning her to London or his concern that she not face Blackwood? Brice was looking at her as if asking what she wanted to do. “What can he do to me in London?” she asked, finding it ironic that she was asking a Highlander this question.
“He’ll protect himself any way he can. You said he forged the papers naming Charles a traitor; he can do the same with anything else, more than likely.”
Eleanor leaned her head against the chair and stared at the ceiling. “So what if he does? Will that affect me?”
“You’ll accuse him, people won’t believe you. That’s all,” Campbell said.
She looked at Campbell and found she trusted him. He had nothing to gain or lose in any of this. He was simply giving her his opinion as he saw it.
“Why do you care?” she asked.
Those lips curled again. “I don’t care, my lady. If you want me to take you to London, I will. There will be a price, though.”
Thomas shifted forward and Brice’s gaze sharpened.
Campbell looked at Brice, then Thomas. “Nothing comes for free, and I don’t offer my services for nothing.”
“This is preposterous.” Thomas shoved himself off his chair and paced away.
“What do ye want?” Brice asked.
Campbell appeared to think, but his shrewd eyes told Eleanor that he already knew what he wanted.
“My parents will pay you,” Eleanor said.
“Nay,” Brice said. “I asked for his services, I will pay.”
Eleanor pressed her lips together. She understood that she had pricked his pride, but hers was already precarious. She’d taken so much from him that she didn’t want to take any more.
Thomas paced back to her chair. “Eleanor, we are returning to London.”
She looked at Thomas, then at Brice, whose gaze was steady on her, and at Campbell, who was taking in the scene with an air of amusement that didn’t touch his eyes.
“What is your price?” she asked Campbell, uncomfortable with his silence.
“A favor.”
All three stared at him, more than interested. What favor could Campbell want from Brice?
Brice raised a brow. “What favor?”
“A favor to be given to me at a later time.” Campbell was completely still, like a coiled snake ready to strike. He watched Brice shrewdly.
Brice seemed to contemplate Campbell’s odd request, his eyes narrowed.
“No,” Eleanor said. “I’ll not have you make a promise and not know what you’re promising.”
Brice held up his hand to quiet her. The two stared at each other as if in some sort of contest to see who would blink first. It was rather ridiculous, to Eleanor’s mind.
She didn’t want Brice to agree to something that could cause him problems in the future.
They had no idea what Campbell would ask for.
“Aye,” Brice finally said. “That’s fine.”
Eleanor drew in a breath. Campbell smiled as much of a smile as he’d shown, and Thomas seemed to sag in relief.
“That’s settled, then,” Thomas said. “We’ll leave for Campbell’s lands as soon as possible and then to London.”
“I want to defeat Blackwood,” Eleanor said, apparently stunning them, for all three men looked at her in surprise. “I want him ruined, and I want Charles’s name cleared. I want his parents to know that their son died honorably, and I want their shame erased.”