‘I will deal with him, lady. ’Tis none of your concern now.’
What could she do to keep him from torturing the boy and killing him? That would be his fate now that he’d found this place and could tell others. She had nothing to bargain with for his parole or treatment. Then she met Brodie’s gaze and remembered the way he’d looked at her and how he’d kissed her.
‘I pray you to treat him with mercy,’ she said softly. ‘If you agree not to mistreat him—’ she looked away for a moment and then met his eyes once more ‘—I will give you whatever you wish.’
She knew the moment her offer was understood for those brown eyes turned darker and his body shifted. It lasted only seconds before anger filled that heated gaze. She found herself pulled up against his hard body before she knew what happened. His mouth descended on hers and took it in a wicked, hot, possessive kiss. Then he let her go and stepped away. Her body shivered in anticipation and not fear.
‘That you question my honour now and in this is disappointing, Arabella,’ he said, his voice as harsh as his gaze now. ‘I do not kill children.’ He leaned in towards her and she thought he was going to kiss her again. His voice dropped low then. ‘And no matter how much I might want you, and I do want you, Arabella, I will not take what is not mine to have.’
Her body would not draw a breath after hearing the fierce and erotic words spoken. He was gone, yards and yards away from her before the spell was broken. Her legs gave out and she knelt on the ground, forcing air into her lungs.
She had, once more, misjudged him badly and not trusted him. She had allowed more falsehoods to guide her opinion and not relied on her own judgement of him. Nothing in the way he’d treated her matched the stories she’d heard. Nothing in the way he dealt with his people gave any indication that he was less than honourable. Nothing.
Again, the world in which she lived became a quagmire, swirling with untruths and rumours, and undermining her sense of everything and everyone. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot brought her back to her senses.
‘My lady? Are ye unwell?’
She turned and found one of Brodie’s men there. She did not know his name, but he held his hand out to her and she took it, gaining her feet.
‘I am well,’ she said, brushing leaves from the length of her gown. Glancing at him, she saw only concern in his eyes.
Had he witnessed her encounter with Brodie? That kiss? A hint of embarrassment entered his green eyes and he glanced away. He had.
‘My thanks...’ She looked at him and knew him in that moment. ‘Dougal.’ The bard. Now, though, what purpose did he serve? ‘Are you following me?’ She knew the answer before he spoke.
‘Aye, lady. I am to see that nothing happens to you while you are here.’ Said like that, it sounded much better than prison guard or gaoler.
‘So you saw my cousin, then?’ He shook his head. ‘And you summoned help?’ Another nod.
In the tumult of those minutes, she had not heard any voices or cries of alarm. And then she remembered Brodie’s system of communicating with his men in the keep. He must have something similar here so that they could wordlessly signal danger or attack. A begrudging respect for his methods grew within her.
‘He is no danger to anyone here,’ she said. He nodded, but doubted the man agreed. ‘Where will they take him?’
Dougal shrugged. Whether ignorant or wilful, he would not tell her. But now, she accepted that Alan would not be harmed.
‘Am I free to go?’ she asked. Had the man’s instructions changed since this incursion into their camp?
‘You should stay nearer the tents, my lady.’ Just so.
Arabella walked back towards the centre of the encampment, keeping a watch for any sign of Brodie or Rob and seeing none. She decided to keep busy until she could seek Brodie out, to explain and to apologise. For she owed him that much.
* * *
Brodie stood in the shadows as Rob began questioning the boy. Struck by how familiar the boy looked, he first thought he had to be a Mackintosh. Then Arabella named him her cousin and Brodie realised his mistake. Now, though, every time the boy stared over at him, something tugged at his memories.
To the boy’s credit, he’d said nothing of value when Rob asked. Instead, he glared and shook his head in refusal. But Brodie could read the fear in the boy’s expression—he knew worse was coming and feared it.
Still, the fact that he had tracked them down and got close to Arabella spoke of his abilities. His dangerous abilities at that. The only thing that had worked in their favour was that he was a Cameron and would report back, or take Arabella back, to The Cameron at Achnacarry Castle rather than to Caelan.
‘How many follow you, boy?’ Rob asked in his most menacing voice. Grabbing the boy’s shirt, he pulled him up close and repeated his threat. ‘Do not make me hurt you.’
Rob would not do any such thing without Brodie’s consent, but using fear to loosen the boy’s tongue was the first step. If he believed the same stories that Arabella believed, it should take no time at all to break him. He watched the boy—Alan, she’d called him—tremble, but the lad never answered.
For a moment then, he saw the lad’s face outlined by the light of a fire. Not here. In the woods. The flames flickered higher and Brodie almost called to him. Then he was gone. Brodie blinked at the apparition before realising Rob called to him.
‘Brodie? Are you well?’ At Rob’s call, he shook off the vision or hallucination and looked at the lad as he sat here, his hands tied behind his back.
‘Nothing?’
