Leif pressed his fingers to his lips and motioned for her to follow him. Using the barn as a shield, they skirted around to the front of the inn.
It was what they feared—soldiers. At least a score of them. One man stood with his back to her. There was something eerily familiar…
He turned, giving her his profile.
Jeannie stopped dead in her tracks. The blood slipped from her face.
Dear God.It was Colin Campbell.
And then she saw Duncan.
Anticipating her reaction, Leif pulled her into his arms and put a hand over her mouth to prevent her cry.
Duncan barely noticed the burning as the musket ball grazed his shoulder, but blood poured down his arm. He was fortunate the soldiers’ guns didn’t have better accuracy. From their distance in the trees—perhaps fifty yards away—they would have been much better off using their bows. He pulled out his dirk, knowing the pistol at his waist would be useless as he’d yet to prime it for the day.
The noise from the shot had alerted the men inside to his approach and the door opened. A few men funneled out before he saw the one who was familiar to him.
Their eyes locked.
“Colin,” he said. His brother had changed over the years. Not as dramatically as Jamie, perhaps, but still significantly. He was a few inches shorter than Jamie and Duncan, but more thickly built. But he looked unwell. On edge. As if he hadn’t slept in weeks.
Colin nodded his head in greeting. “Duncan. It’s been a long time.”
Duncan thought he detected a glint of regret in his eyes, but it was quickly smothered by cold resolve. In that one glance he knew: If he was looking for an ally, he would not find it with his brother.
His gaze darted behind Colin’s shoulder through the door, but there was no sign of her. “I heard a woman scream,” he said. “Where is she?”
Colin’s eyes narrowed, he thought with a gleam of calculation. “You mean you don’t know?” He held his gaze and laughed.
A chill swept across the back of his neck. Had something happened to her? “Let them go,” Duncan said. “I’ll go willingly, if you let them go.”
Colin’s eyes turned black. “Willingly or not you’ll go. You are hardly in a position to bargain.”
Duncan fought to stay calm. A score of soldiers wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to escape. “They have done nothing wrong. You’ve no cause to take them.”
“Harboring an outlaw is crime enough,” Colin said. He stared at the dirk Duncan had in his hand. “Drop your weapons and I can promise that no one will get hurt.”
Duncan didn’t hesitate. He dropped his dirk, removed his pistol and tossed it down as well, then unbuckled his sword and handed it over to his brother.
Colin took one look at it and his face nearly exploded with rage. “Father’s sword! You stole it after he fell. You’ve had it this whole time.”
Duncan didn’t defend himself. The sword had never rightfully belonged to him. But he’d wanted it. Taking it had been a spurious decision in the shock of his father falling in battle.
He allowed himself to be bound, flexing his wrists to ensure a little slack in the rope.
“Make sure it’s tight,” Colin said, guessing his intentions. “And check him for hidden weapons.” When they were done retrieving the two other knives, including hissgain dubh, Colin shouted to his men inside, “Bring them out.”
Duncan waited anxiously, needing to see that she was all right, but he was to be disappointed. He saw Conall, beaten badly but alive, and three of the Gordon guardsmen who’d accompanied them—he knew it didn’t bode well for the fourth. Leif, he hoped, was safely away.
He kept his face impassive, hiding the cold fear cutting through him. Jeannie wasn’t there.
If Leif hadn’t been holding her, Jeannie would have rushed forward. Duncan thought she was inside with Colin’s soldiers and that’s why he was giving himself up. She had to stop him. At best he would be imprisoned in some ghastly pit prison, and at worst…
She couldn’t think about at worst.
“His brother?” Leif whispered in her ear.
She nodded, and he relaxed his hand around her mouth.
