‘Arabella, my people are not a danger to Alan. Nor you.’
She took in a deep breath and let it out before answering him.
‘Alan was there that night.’
Her words struck him like the blow of a cudgel.
That night.
The boy. Malcolm. Blood. Dead.
Images and sounds filled his mind from that night that had changed everything in his life. The fire roared before him as he and Malcolm talked about...her. Smoke swirled around them and somehow in his head too. His eyes would not focus. He turned away from the flames and gazed at the trees around them, trying to clear his vision and he saw...
A boy. A boy hid there in the trees, watching them. Too young to join in their drinking, yet too old to be with the bairns. A boy.
Alan. Alan had been there.
‘He saw it all.’ He looked at her. ‘He saw it happen.’
Arabella nodded at him, tears in her eyes. Tears for her brother. ‘If Caelan is discredited, there would be no witness to stand against you. Except him.’
‘Your father would never accept me,’ he said. ‘No matter if Caelan is the accuser or not, Malcolm’s blood is on my hands. I killed him.’ He’d held out his hands as though the blood was still visible. ‘Why did he not admit it then?’
‘Your accusers were Mackintoshes. Why would a Cameron boy come forward and blame you when their words were stronger and had already been taken for the truth?’
‘I have accepted the blame and the guilt for what happened, Arabella.’ Her eyes dimmed at those words. Even without mentioning her brother’s name, he caused her pain.
‘But your clan would not have trouble accepting you back if Caelan is not there to proclaim your guilt. These people you’ve gathered here are protecting you even as you protect them. If the only thing standing in the way of you being accepted back is that boy, after all your struggles to give them back their families and homes, do you not think someone would take care of it?’
Brodie could think of several of the men who would not hesitate to kill the boy. After all, he was a Cameron. A Cameron who stood in the way of his re-acceptance.
‘What did he tell you?’ he asked quietly. He still could not see anything but the beginning or the end of that night. Her face went grey in an instant, all the colour draining out. ‘Christ! I did not mean for you to...’ But he had wanted to know. The night swirled in scenes of fire and smoke and blood in his memory and he would have asked the boy if he’d known.
‘He told me nothing. When I realised your dreams were actually memories, I told him never to speak to anyone about what he witnessed. That it could mean his life if anyone knew he’d been there and seen it.’ He’d fallen asleep the other night on her lap. She’d never said a word about what she’d heard. ‘And he will not say a word. And he will not reveal our location to anyone, even my father, Brodie. I swear he will not.’
Brodie knew differently. They’d plied the boy with spirits—others would not be so kind. The boy would break. The boy would speak and he would reveal anything or everything he knew.
‘I wish you could have trusted me on this, Arabella. Now, everyone here is in danger.’
And that was the crux of the matter. She proclaimed love but had no trust in him. He’d done nothing to her that should cause her not trust him, he’d been honest with her. They both understood responsibility and duty and honour. Yet she did not trust him.
Somehow this tore him more deeply than being exiled. That she would give up her body to him, proclaim love for him and not believe he was worthy of her trust.
‘Brodie,’ Rob called from outside.
He left without another word. If he spoke to her again, he knew he would let his anger and pain guide him and he could destroy her. Yet, in spite of her betrayal, he did not want to do that.
The news was not good. Traces of Alan’s path were found, so they knew he had headed north, to the loch and most likely to the Camerons’ northern holding at Achnacarry. But, they had also found other signs that strangers had been coming close to the camp.
It would take them two days to pack and move everyone here. One day if they only moved essential supplies. Within three hours of learning about Alan’s escape, he gave the orders to begin.
And within those same three hours, his camp became a divided one.
* * *
He returned to the cave to discover her gone. Which did not surprise him at all. Brodie knew she would not face him now. As he walked through the camp, overseeing the preparations that would see the women, children and some of the men head north to his uncle’s lands, his reception was a mixed one.
Some of the older men, especially those who had fought the Camerons or had close kin taken prisoners by them, nodded at him as though pleased. It had not made sense until he remembered that old Tormod’s sister had been taken...and returned home some months later bearing the very obvious sign of the price she’d paid for being a female captive. They had expected that Brodie would inflict the same on Arabella, since she was his prisoner and a Cameron. So their night together was simply taking what was due him.
