Although Patrick’s best tracker had lost Niall’s tracks near Ben Lomond, he’d been headed toward this part of the western coastline.
“But what if we missed him?” Annie said, voicing the fear that she’d been trying to keep at bay.
“Then we’ll follow him to Ireland,” Patrick said fiercely. “If that’s what you want.”
Relief and emotion gripped her throat. She had to blink back tears as she looked up at her big brother. “You would do that for me?”
“If he will make you smile again, there isn’t any place I wouldn’t take you.”
Annie didn’t know what to say. The lump in her throat would take a long time to dissipate.
“What about England?” Jamie said with mock seriousness. “Would you take her to England?”
“Except for England,” Patrick qualified quickly. “There are some hells I would not subject you to no matter what the cost.”
Annie laughed, grateful for the moment of lightness in what had been a stressful few days on the road.
She eyed Jamie Campbell. There was more to the Enforcer than she’d realized. Good Lord, were there actually two Campbells that she liked now? For a MacGregor, that was worse than heresy.
“We can stay the night at the castle,” Jamie said, referring to the royal castle of Dunoon, of which the Campbells were the historical keepers. “My brother Duncan and his wife, Jeannie, are at Castle Campbell, but the servants will be able to ready the rooms and prepare something for us to eat.”
Annie wasn’t the only one who shuddered at the idea of staying at the Campbell stronghold. “Don’t bother on our accounts,” Patrick said quickly. “Annie and I will be fine in the village. I haven’t recovered from the last time I enjoyed your hospitality.”
Jamie Campbell actually grinned. It shocked the breath out of Annie. Maybe she could see what Caitrina saw in him after all. Good gracious, he was a handsome man. Averyhandsome man. It was normally hard to see behind all thatimposing.
“It was a jest,” Jamie said. “I didn’t leave you in there for long. And you deserved it. You made Lizzie sad.”
Patrick sighed, clearly agreeing. “I’d like to see you in that pit prison for five hours. As a joke, of course. I’d wager you’ve made your wife sad a time or two.”
Jamie chuckled, and Annie had her second shock in as many minutes. The Enforcer laughed? His enemies—mostly MacGregors—would never believe it.
“Maybe once or twice.” Jamie admitted, but then he looked to Annie. “Remind me to stay away from Lamont’s castle when he gets it built—especially if it has a pit prison.”
It seemed she wasn’t the only one who was confident in Niall’s abilities.
Jamie and his men gathered their horses and rode up the hill that overlooked the port to the castle; Niall, Annie, and their MacGregor clansmen headed to the inn that Jamie had recommended, which was unimaginatively named the Quayside Inn and Alehouse.
While Patrick spoke to the innkeeper about a room and saw to the stabling of the horses, Annie took a seat at a small table in the main room where other travelers were already enjoying the inn’s food and ale to wait for him. The room was dark and smoky but warm and relatively clean in appearance, so she did not complain. From the platters going by, the meat pies seemed to be a popular choice. They certainly smelled delicious.
Her stomach rumbled, and she was already mentally preparing her order for when Patrick returned.
Her back was facing the entry, so she didn’t see the three men come in. She heard their boisterous laughter, however, as they sat down at a table a few feet in front of her and called for ale.
When she looked up to glance in their direction, she realized one of the men was staring at her. She caught his gaze, and she started with shock. Her heart dropped. Every bone in her body went cold, and her breath seemed to have turned to ice in her lungs.
She would never forget that hideous face. The menacing dark eyes beneath the heavy, even darker brow. The lank black hair that fell across his short forehead as he held her down and forced himself on top of her. The thick neck and shoulders that had seemed like an immovable rock as she’d pressed against him, trying to push him off, clad in the same black leather cotun. The heavy beard that hid most of his face. The brutish features—flat, thick, and pugnacious—like those of a man who did nothing but brawl.
For a moment the fear returned like a drenching, icy shower, rendering her temporarily frozen. She was back in that horrible derelict bothy where they’d taken her to rape her.
But then his mouth drew back in that hideous sneer that she remembered, and her blood started to surge through her veins again.
It started to boil.
He turned to say something to one of his companions, but it was loud enough for her to hear. “I think we found a way to get our reward, lads. We don’t need to find the outlaw. He will come to us.”
Annie knew exactly what he meant, and it only fueled the firestorm of rage racing through her. She would never let them use her to get Niall.
When they came to get her, she went with them willingly, did not put up a fight, and let them lead her outside. But just as she was about to slip the dagger from the opening she’d made in the folds of her gown, disaster struck.
