“Yes, please.” The couple moved toward the door of the inn, but movement to their left made Laurel peer behind Brodie. She thought she’d seen Stephen MacBain, but she reminded herself that was impossible since the man was likely still at Stirling Castle. And even if he headed home, he wouldn’t be on the same route as the Campbells, and Laurel reasoned he couldn’t have arrived ahead of them unless he’d ridden through the night and for two days straight. She pushed aside the notion and entered the inn with Brodie.
She took a seat on a bench between Brodie and Graham, who she’d immediately liked when she met him. He reminded her of Donnan, and he’d put her at ease. She didn’t doubt that he wondered why his laird married Laurel, but he’d been polite every time she encountered him. She hadn’t determined where Michael disappeared to the day Brodie returned. She was certain he hadn’t been in the bailey when she went to the kirk, nor was he there while she waited. But she recalled finding him with the other Campbell men when she went to thank them. She supposed he’d sought rest while he could. All the men appeared to be on their last leg by the end of the ceremony. There was something about Michael that put her on edge, so she avoided him when she could.
“Rest for a while, Laurie.” Brodie kissed her forehead when they finished eating. “I’m going to check the horses and add to our provisions. I fear we may encounter foul weather as we climb higher. If we’re delayed, I would prefer more food with us in case there isn’t much to hunt.”
Laurel was eager to arrive at Kilchurn, but she wasn’t in a rush to get back onto Teine. She loved her steed, and she loved riding, but she could admit—at least to herself—that the journey was not the same as a jaunt across a meadow. She watched as Brody and Graham left the tavern. Two men remained, and one was Michael. She pretended to be interested in her mug of ale to avoid having to make conversation with the man who made her uneasy.
“Too high and mighty for the likes of us.” Laurel heard Michael, even though he kept his voice low. She wished she didn’t have better-than-average hearing. It meant she caught conversations not intended for her. “Can’t even bother to look in our direction.”
Laurel wanted to prove she didn’t consider herself superior to either of the men, but to look in their direction now meant admitting she heard them. She opted for another tack. Grabbing her mug, she moved toward the counter but stopped before the men. “Would you like another pint?”
Both men narrowed their eyes at her as if they could determine an ulterior motive. Michael nodded. Laurel took that as progress. She moved toward the counter where the tavern keeper stood. The inn was more crowded than she’d expected, but the crowd was respectful. She didn’t fear moving around, and Brodie hadn’t warned against it.
“May I have another pint of watered ale for me, and two pints of ale for my husband’s men?” The barkeep nodded, but he didn’t refill Laurel’s mug before Michael stepped next to her.
“The laird is ready to leave, ma lady.” Laurel looked back at the door, but Brodie wasn’t there. “He sent Danny to fetch us.” Laurel looked again, but the man Brodie introduced as his best rider wasn’t in sight. “He went back to the horses. The laird took several to the farrier to have their shoes checked. We’re to meet him there.”
Laurel paused for a long moment before she agreed. She followed Michael, and the guard whose name she couldn’t remember followed her. When they left the dim tavern, the early afternoon sun blinded Laurel. She tried to shield her eyes, but they watered, nonetheless. She relied on Michael to lead the way while she tried to adjust. She thought she’d seen the horseshoe fitter’s workshop from atop Teine, so she wondered why they moved in the opposite direction. She heard the noise coming from the ferry landing and was certain they headed in the wrong direction. They entered a crowded portion of the village, and Laurel realized it was market day. She reached out to tap Michael’s shoulder to ask if they were going the right way, but he slipped between men standing ahead of them. Laurel turned back to look for the other guard, but he was nowhere in sight.
Laurel had been to enough markets not to fear being lost. She would find a merchant and ask where she could find the farrier. She spotted a woman selling apples that she thought might help her. She was within earshot when Edgar Gunn stepped in front of her. She reared back, surprised to find him in the village. She discovered Stephen standing beside him. It hadn’t been her imagination. But just as she knew Stephen shouldn’t be in Locherhead if he was bound for home, she knew Edgar shouldn’t be either. He would have taken the same route as she if Laurel was returning to Balnagown.
“Lady Campbell,” Edgar extended his hand for hers. She looked at his upturned palm before placing hers above his. She nearly snatched it back when his fingers wrapped around the sides of her hand and lifted it to his lips. They skimmed her skin, and she wished to wipe her hand against her skirts.
“Laird Gunn.” Laurel was eager to find Brodie. “MacBain.”
“What are you doing alone, Lady Campbell?” Stephen looked over her head.
“I became separated from my guards, but I’m on my way to the farrier where my husband awaits. Good day.”
“We will walk you there.” Edgar’s tone was adamant, and his expression matched it. Laurel didn’t want to make a scene, but she intended to do just as Michael had—slip away in the crowd. She would find her own way to the farrier’s or return to the inn and await Brodie there. But her intentions slipped away when Edgar pulled her arm around his. “I wouldn’t want you to get separated from us either.”
Laurel glanced at Stephen, who studiously avoided looking at her once they began walking. Edgar steered them from where Laurel thought she saw Michael headed. In the short time she’d stood talking to the two men, more people arrived at the market. It dawned on Laurel that this might be the only market in several miles. What appeared like a sleepy hamlet when they arrived was now a bustling village with vendors calling out and pushing their way in front of passersby. Forced toward the water when a herd of cattle blocked the way, Laurel strained to pull free of Edgar’s grip. He released her so suddenly that she stumbled. Catching herself before she fell, Laurel tried to walk against the tide of people headed to the ferry. They pushed her along as she fought to make her way free. When the crush of people arrived at the dock, Laurel couldn’t fathom how so many could fit on the boat without it capsizing or sinking.
“I have no coin,” Laurel said to the ferry master. “I don’t intend to board.”
“I’m paying for her.” Laurel’s head whipped around when she heard Nelson MacDougall. Her heart raced as she looked at him and his brother. Stephen was already aboard, and a shove from behind with a snicker told her Edgar intended to make her get on the boat. She tried harder to break free, but the crowd and Edgar were too much to fight against. She found herself caught in the center of the two MacDougall brothers, Stephen MacBain, Andrew MacFarlane, and Liam Oliphant. Despite being tall for a woman, the five Highlanders hid her from view.
“You’re allies,” she hissed at Andrew.
“But we’re not allies with the Rosses.” With that, Andrew crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her. She glanced at Liam and knew she would be at their mercy until Brodie found her, or they killed her. She’d burned every bridge, so she had no way off the ferry.
