Palmer hesitated. If he agreed with Rutherford, that would put Iain in even more jeopardy. To agree with Iain would put Palmer in even more jeopardy.
“No threat,” Iain said. “I’m just stating the obvious.”
Rutherford lowered his hands and contemplated Iain for a long while. “There have been plenty of English aristocrats who have been found guilty of heinous crimes such as yours. You’re not even a full-blooded Englishman but a mixed breed of English and Scots. You’re a mongrel, Campbell, and I don’t think your death will be the talk of the town that you suspect it will be. Believe me, hardly anyone will notice.”
Inwardly, Iain winced at the blow meant for his pride. He’d roundly lost that battle and, apparently, his life.
Rutherford stood and straightened his cuffs. “I will accompany you, Palmer, to be certain that Campbell makes it back to his cell. It wouldn’t do to lose him, now, would it?”
Palmer and Iain exchanged a look of disbelief. “If you think I would allow him to escape—” Palmer started.
“Of course not,” Rutherford interrupted. He motioned for Iain to proceed out the door first. Palmer followed and Rutherford came from behind. They walked silently down the steps and out into the sunshine. It seemed odd to Iain that the sun should be shining. He was going to die on the morrow. Rutherford was making sure it would happen before Cumberland returned. The man was heartless and cruel.
Iain’s feet were heavy as he walked toward the building housing the prison cells. More than likely, this would be the last time he saw the sun shine or the bright blue of a Scottish summer day.
And what of Cait?
Good Lord, what of Cait?
He’d promised her a lifetime, had convinced her to take a chance on him. He’d told her that life was worth living only if she gave it a chance. She’d given him her heart and trusted that he would be by her side for a long, long time. Now it seemed they’d had only those moments and nothing more.
He wanted to see her one more time. He’d asked her to call in Sutherland and MacLean, but even if they arrived before tomorrow morning—which he doubted—there was nothing they could do to save him.
Help him escape?
And then what?
He’d have to go to Canada, like all the others Sutherland whisked out of the country. Either that or be hunted the rest of his life. Hell, he couldn’t even go to England.
Good God, but he wanted to see Cait one more time to tell her that he loved her and not to give up on life.
And then, suddenly, she was there, walking toward him. He had to shake his head because he was certain that his mind had conjured up her image, but no, there she was, picking up her skirts and running toward him. Sutherland was behind her, and then came MacLean, Rory Graham, and Tavis MacGregor.
“Iain!” she shouted.
He stopped, disbelief and grief and joy making it impossible to move another step. Palmer stepped up beside him, and Rutherford muttered, “What the hell is this?”
Cait threw her arms around Iain, making him stumble back a few steps.
“Here, now!” Rutherford exclaimed, but no one seemed to pay him any mind.
Iain looked over Cait’s shoulder to Sutherland and MacLean. They both nodded at him.
“Ye’re hurt,” she said as she ran her hands over his face.
“I’m fine,” he said. She touched his various cuts while he studied her bruises; they had darkened to purple, blue, and red. “How are you?” he asked.
“Worried sick about ye. I brought Sutherland and MacLean. Graham and MacGregor sent men to help, but we didn’t bring them into the fort.”
Iain raised a brow. “I’m impressed that Graham and MacGregor wanted to help.”
She grinned. “They put aside their differences for a few days. Oh, Iain, I’ve been so worried. I thought for sure I’d find ye…” She shook her head. “Never mind. We’ll get ye out of here soon. Surely they’ll see the mistake they made.”
Iain glanced at Rutherford, who was watching the exchange with barely veiled fury. Iain drew Cait away, not out of earshot, because that would have been impossible. He cupped her face between his hands and winced at his broken finger.
“Ye’re hurt worse than I thought. Where?” she asked.
“Just a broken finger, that’s all. Cait, there’s something I need to tell you.”
