‘Chasing her down,’ Brodie answered. He got to his feet without letting go of her. She pulled away then, glancing between him and Rob and waiting for something to happen. ‘We are high in the mountains, lady. There are more of these—’ he pointed at the cliff they’d barely avoided ‘—that will take your life faster than I could.’
She gasped, her mouth opening and her head shaking. Rob said something under his breath...again. Brodie closed his eyes for a moment, praying for forbearance and wisdom and not receiving it.
‘Come. Give me your hand,’ he said, holding out his to her. It would have been easier on his peace of mind to let Rob escort her right now, but he did not want to relinquish her to him.
She hesitated. Then her hand slipped out of the cloak’s folds to him. Rob cleared his throat and walked away then, taking the two other men who’d followed them with him. Brodie took her hand and tugged her closer, laying her hand on his arm. The trembling lessened as they walked wordlessly back along the path.
He had things to say to her and this would be the best time to say them. No details or specific information about his plan, but she did deserve to know some of the truths he’d discovered...because there was every chance that he would fail and she would return to Caelan.
‘I brought you here to stop the wedding and the treaty, Arabella. I am keeping you here until I can make certain that Caelan is stopped.’ He waited for the barrage of questions or the accusations he knew she would make.
Silence.
* * *
He accused Caelan once again and Arabella did not argue this time. This fear that sprang free and controlled her was her enemy as much as the man standing before her. And if she did escape, and she planned to try, anything she could tell Caelan would make it possible for him to destroy his outlawed cousin and bring this, this, well, whatever Brodie planned to an end. It would be wise to learn as much as she could and not antagonise him.
‘If you will not reveal your plans, will you tell me what you think Caelan is planning?’ she asked. Better to focus on something he would speak of. ‘The treaty will bring peace between the Camerons and Mackintoshes and an end to bloodshed. Is that not something to be desired?’
‘A true and honourable truce is to be desired and pursued, as my uncle did with your father. But Caelan twists that now.’ He turned his gaze to her and she lost the ability to breathe. ‘The duty to which you and I were raised is not what you should expect from Caelan if he succeeds, Arabella.’
He spoke of duty. Of a shared duty. Months ago, that might have worked to gain her support. It had surely helped to break down her resistance or reluctance to accept him as husband. There was comfort of a sort in knowing that they would put their duty to their families above their personal desires or wants.
But that was before he killed her brother. And was outlawed from his own clan. Before he kidnapped her.
‘What should I expect? Caelan accepted the high chair and swore to protect your...’ She began to sayhisclan but it was not his. Not since his exile. ‘Caelan took his oath of loyalty and promised to see this treaty to the end.’
He let out an exasperated sigh then and she half-expected to hear him curse under his breath as his friend did. Instead, he shrugged and shook his head.
‘Caelan has made many promises. Fooled many people. He fooled me for too long, Arabella. I thought you of all people would have seen through him by now.’
‘Me of all people? I know not what you mean by that, Brodie?’
‘You wear your beauty like a mask, hiding the woman you are beneath it. I would think you could recognise when others did the same.’
She wanted to deny it, to say he was wrong, but he had seen through her. And if Caelan was hiding something from her, she had never thought to pay heed to any clues. But what should she say to him now? Should she admit it?
‘You owe me no explanation, lady,’ he said, nodding to the path ahead of them. ‘I just want you to know that there is more to my cousin than he shows until he no longer needs you. When you become expendable, you will learn his truth.’
She shivered against the words and against the fear that he now spoke the truth. Could Caelan be hiding something from her? Arabella needed to think about this, but Brodie’s presence, staring at her as though willing her to believe him, made it impossible.
‘May I return to Margaret’s now?’ she asked.
She needed to get away from him. Too many words threatened to spill and too many accusations burned her tongue. Worse, too many questions bubbled within her. Letting them out would not find the truth for her or get Brodie to reveal anything more. Since her questions angered him and his reaction was to ignore her and them, it did her no good to pursue them now.
‘This way,’ he said, pointing to the left.
He did not offer his arm, but instead, motioned for her to precede him. This part of the path was familiar to her. Soon they reached the tent where Margaret stood waiting. Without a word she walked inside, seeking a place of refuge from the creeping tendrils of doubt that taunted her now.
‘Margaret,’ she heard him say. ‘Do not let down your guard with her.’
She should have been insulted by his words. Instead, she felt as though he saw that there was more to her. That he’d acknowledged it and saw her differently than anyone save her brother had done before.
And the warning was well warranted, for she had begun making plans for an escape. The darning and sewing she’d offered to help Margaret with gave her the opportunity to work on garments from others in this encampment. She started collecting clothing that would disguise her appearance. Once she had enough, she would find her horse and get away.
Even if she did not know the location, she knew she must go down, down from this place high in the mountains, down and towards a loch. Once on the main roads, she would find her way or find someone who knew how to reach her father’s lands.
It might take only another day or two, for she’d hidden away a pair of breeches under the pallet where she slept. The cloak she wore now would work nicely to cover her face. She yet needed a shirt or tunic and she would try. Margaret always left her at dusk to get their meal and it would be just dark enough to obscure her from anyone guarding the area.
