“I need to know what to expect when we get there,” she said.
His body swayed with his mount’s movements. “Expect to see a lot of redcoats, more than ye’ve seen before. They’ll no’ be pleased to see us riding in, that’s for certain. I wouldn’t pin yer hopes on anything happening quickly, if at all.”
Her stomach dropped, and her fingers tightened around the reins. “Ye don’t think we can get him out.” It wasn’t a question, and the words burned her throat. What if she had to ride away from Fort Augustus without Iain? The thought had not occurred to her. She’d thought about his condition, but she’d not thought about leaving him behind. He was Iain Campbell. He got things done.
“I’m no’ saying it’s impossible, but the English, they tend to no’ listen to the Scots.”
“Palmer listens to Iain.”
MacLean harrumphed. “And look where that got Campbell. Ah, lass.” He sighed. “I’m no’ wanting to pour cold water over ye, but ye have to face the facts. The English arrested Campbell because he admitted to killing their soldier. That does no’ bode well for Campbell.”
She straightened in her saddle, more determined than ever. “They will release him when they find out he didn’t kill Donaldson.”
“And what are ye going to do? Miraculously provide them with the killer?”
Yes. That was exactly what she was going to do, but she kept quiet and let MacLean pull ahead of her.
Rory was bringing up the rear and Tavis was riding alongside Rory, not allowing Cait any privacy to speak to her cousin.
Their little party was quiet, each lost in thought, nerves stretched taut. No one would willingly walk into the enemy’s lair except the five of them. Funny that the lair they were entering was once a place where Iain could easily walk in and out.
She kept to the middle of the pack. When they were close to Fort Augustus, Sutherland dropped back from his position in the front, letting MacLean lead. He motioned for Cait to follow him to the back. Tavis, taking one look at the two of them, increased his pace and took Cait’s place in the middle. Rory looked at them uneasily.
“Cait says that ye went to bury Donaldson’s body,” Sutherland said to Rory.
“Aye.” Rory’s gaze flickered to Cait and then away.
“How did the English find him if ye were supposed to bury him?” Cait asked.
“I didn’t find him. There was nothing there, Cait.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I was going to bury the body and turn his horse loose, but he wasn’t where ye said he would be.”
“I saw him,” she said softly so no one else could hear. “He was dead.” But was he? Had she thought to check? She’d raced out of there, so scared, andthoughthe was dead. He hadn’t been moving, but she hadn’t checked the pulse at his neck to see if he really was dead. Could he have walked away?
“What happened to him, then?” she whispered.
“Are ye certain that Iain didn’t kill him?” Sutherland asked quietly.
“Nay. He didn’t kill him. I did.” But had she? Had she left him alive? If so, then someone else had killed him, though she was certain it wasn’t Iain. He hadn’t even known about the attack, and once he’d learned of it, he hadn’t left her.
“Donaldson wasn’t where ye said he was,” Rory said. “I’ll swear to it if I have to. Ye didn’t kill him, Cait.”
She looked at the two men but was seeing Donaldson’s prone body, the chest not moving.
What if Rory was right? What if shehadn’tkilled him?
Then who had?
—
It had been a brutal day and a half.
Palmer had been as nice to Iain as was possible on the way to Fort Augustus, but once they arrived and it was discovered that Iain had admitted to killing an officer, all the pleasantries had ended.
Iain had been given a cell of his own, which he supposed was better than being with the general population of Scottish prisoners. The name Campbell was received with mixed emotions in these parts, and he knew he wouldn’t have lasted the night.
