Chapter Twenty-Nine

Blood roared so loudly in Kirk’s ears that he hardly heard Roland Gervais’s soft words.

“Roland,” he murmured. “What are ye doing here?”

“I had some…business that took me to Northern England,” Roland said, his dark gaze keen. “I managed to intercept Logan Mackenzie on his way southward back to the Compound.”

The hairs on the back of Kirk’s neck rose and his heart hitched erratically. What had Mackenzie told Roland? That Kirk had admitted caring for Lillian? Or that he had hinted about larger forces working against the Order?

“Oh?” he breathed, praying that his voice did not give him away.

“Aye,” Roland said casually, fingering his reins with black-gloved hands. “He saved me quite a bit of time—and an extra trip.”

Kirk remained motionless, but out of the corners of his eyes he tried to count how many men surrounded him.

There were still a dozen or so men waiting in front of the abbey a long stone’s throw away. Mayhap another five surrounded him and Lillian. He had a dagger in each hand and four more up his sleeves. There were several more in his saddlebags, but he wouldn’t have time to get to them.

“Mackenzie told you that I sent him to relieve you?”

At the soft question, Kirk snapped his attention back to Roland. “Aye.”

Roland smiled faintly, his teeth glowing surprisingly white in the dim light. “I hope you did not take offense to me sending him,” he said with a conciliatory little tilt to his head. “You see, it is standard practice. One can never be too careful when it comes to ensuring that our missions are completed swiftly and seamlessly. I was…distressed when he told me you’d sent him away, but he assured me that you were merely eager to prove yourself more than capable of finishing the task.”

Kirk silently let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Logan had passed on Kirk’s lie to Roland. He’d covered for him. “Aye.”

“And so you are, apparently.” Roland’s black gaze shifted to Lillian. She leaned back into Kirk’s chest and he involuntarily hunched his shoulders around her in a defensive gesture.

“Don’t you two look rather…cozy,” Roland drawled, his sharp eyes missing naught.

Protect Lillian , Kirk’s mind screamed. Otherwise, Roland might come up with some new way to hurt her in order to force Kirk’s compliance, as he’d done with Logan.

“The lass tried to escape,” Kirk said, keeping his voice flat. “I had to retrieve her.”

Roland made a little noise as he tapped his tongue against his teeth. “It sounds as though you’ve had a most adventurous first mission. And a spirited target. I’m sure the clients will find her quite…amusing.”

Roland’s dark eyes slid casually over his shoulder at the men still waiting in front of the abbey.

Sickness suddenly surged from Kirk’s stomach to his throat.

“They…they are here?”

He thought he had more time—at least three more days for their journey to the Compound to figure out a way to save Lillian, his mission, and himself. But apparently his time was up. He’d failed.

“Aye,” Roland replied. “When I came across Mackenzie just south of the border, I realized that if the clients joined me in intercepting you, they could have their quarry sooner than expected. Naturally, they jumped at the opportunity.”

A cold sweat broke out along Kirk’s spine. He could feel Lillian trembling against him. If he did aught rash now, it would mean both of their lives. He had to be smart. He had to think rationally. But his thoughts scattered like sand to the wind.

“We were lucky you chose this safe house,” Roland went on. “When we found a fire inside the abbey but no bounty hunter or target, we all feared the worst, but thankfully you are both here now.”

If he and Lillian hadn’t returned to the abbey, they might be free of all this right now. Then again, the subtle edge in Roland’s voice reminded him of the man’s promise to hunt Kirk down should he fail in any way. Mayhap by falling into Roland’s clutches, Kirk had managed to keep both himself and Lillian alive—for now.

“Enough of such gloomy talk,” Roland said, shifting in his saddle. “You proved yourself, MacLeod. I am satisfied. Give the clients my regards, and I’ll expect to see you back at the Compound to await your next mission.”

Cold shock now cut through Kirk’s fear. “Ye arenae staying?”

“My business with the clients is concluded,” Roland said airily, “and I prefer not to linger so far away from my headquarters. They will pay your portion of the bounty directly. I imagine if you are so inclined, they may even let you stay and watch as they break the woman.”

Kirk’s gut churned sickeningly and he feared he would lose his stranglehold on his composure. “Nay, I think no’.”

“Very well. When you are done with the clients, return to the Compound. Three days should be sufficient, even if you change your mind and linger a bit to watch the clients work. Consider it a reward for completing your first mission.”

Roland reined his horse around, raising one hand and flicking his fingers off to the south. The men surrounding Kirk and Lillian dissolved back into the forest. Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk noticed that more than half of the dozen men in front of the abbey fell back as well at Roland’s curt gesture.

“Oh, and MacLeod,” Roland said, turning to look back over his shoulder. “I admire your pluck and eagerness to prove yourself on this mission. But if you ever break protocol again, or go against my orders in any way, I’ll be forced to punish you. You remember the jars, don’t you?”

Kirk nodded slowly, swallowing hard against the memory of the dismembered fool who’d dared to cross Roland Gervais.

“Good. I’ll see you at the Compound in three days’ time then.”

With that, Roland nudged his horse into motion, his dozen guards falling in around him as they cut a path southward.

“You there,” one of the men who remained in front of the abbey called.

For one long, aching moment, Kirk contemplated wheeling his horse around and spurring it hard, losing the men in the thick, night-dark forest.

But he could not run from this. Roland would find him, there could be no doubting that .

He nudged the roan forward.

“What are you doing?” Lillian hissed as they drew closer to the abbey and the waiting men.

Kirk’s pulse pounded in time with the horse’s steps. How could he answer? He was following orders, as he always had. His mind flew back to Carrickfergus, to joining the Order for the Bruce, to all the hurt he’d caused Lillian in obeying the Order’s commands.

He’d thought himself brave, honorable, but some part of him had always hidden behind the role of a soldier. Aye, he followed orders—orders that had destroyed lives. And Lillian’s life was next unless he acted.

Out of the storm in his mind, one idea sliced through like a beam of sunlight. Roland and his dozen guards drew farther and farther away with every aching heartbeat. Only five men now waited for him in front of the abbey.

A blade-thin tendril of hope threaded through him as a plan began to take shape in his mind.

“Is this her? Is this the Master Mason’s wife?”

The thick voice of one of the men cut through his thoughts. He was only a few paces away from the abbey now. But he needed more time if this far-fetched plan was going to work.

“Aye.” He heard his own voice as if through a dream.

A low rumble of glee went through the men. “Oh, she’s a pretty one. We’ll have fun with her. ”

Distantly, he felt Lillian recoil against him. If only he had time to explain his plan to her. But they’d already come to a halt before the five brutes who’d paid for her.

“It will be all right,” he whispered, so softly that he wasn’t sure if she heard him or not. It was all he had time to say now.

One of the men dismounted and reached dirty hands toward Lillian to pull her from the saddle before Kirk.

Kirk flashed one of the daggers he held at the man’s hand, causing him to freeze. “My coin first,” he said, making his voice pure ice.

The man grunted, then withdrew slightly. He motioned to one of the others, who dismounted and came forward with a clinking sack in his hands.

Kirk took his time shifting the two daggers he clutched into one hand and weighing the sack in his palm, hoping the men wouldn’t notice the cold sweat beading on his brow.

“It’s all there,” the first man said testily. He reached again toward Lillian.

It took every ounce of Kirk’s strength not to cut the man’s hand off at the wrist when his grimy fingers landed on Lillian’s waist and pulled her from the horse. His mind raced for another way to delay. Roland and his men were still too close. Yet he could come up with no plausible excuse to defer the men.

“Kirk!” Lillian cried as she was dragged from the horse.

He opened his mouth to reassure her, to order the bastard holding her to let her go, but the words died in his throat. His teeth locked with a hard click as he clamped his jaw closed.

One by one, the remaining men dismounted and closed in slowly on Lillian.

“You don’t mind us staying at your camp, do you?” the one holding Lillian said over his shoulder to Kirk, a smile twisting his coarse features.

“Nay,” he ground out. The roan sidestepped nervously, clearly sensing the tension radiating from him.

Kirk began silently counting to one hundred to force himself from leaping into action. He needed more time. One hundred heartbeats wasn’t nearly enough, but every second meant a slightly better chance of getting out of this alive.

Lillian, who’d been struggling against the man holding her, suddenly bucked wildly, kicking and swinging her arms.

“Tie the bitch!” the apparent leader said, barely managing to maintain his hold on Lillian. “Get her inside the abbey!”

22…23…24…

Two of the men fell on Lillian as one approached with a rope and began binding her hands behind her body.

“Kirk!” she screamed again, her voice breaking on a sob. “Help me! ”

As the others lifted her under the elbows and began dragging her into the abbey, the man who’d first spoken turned to Kirk with a glower.

“No offense meant, but bugger off. You and Roland have been paid handsomely for the Fitzhugh woman. I don’t need you spoiling my enjoyment with that scowl of yours.”

Kirk nodded slowly, though his eyes darted to Lillian as she was pulled into the abbey. Through the open door, he could see the orange glow of the embers from his fire. They cast twisting, monstrous shadows out the doorway as the men dragged Lillian to the back.

49…50…51…

As the leader turned to follow the others into the abbey, Kirk shifted in the saddle and took up the reins, pretending to prepare to leave.

Time stretched painfully as he counted.

65…66…

His ears rang as Lillian screamed wordlessly, her voice filled with raw terror. Then all inside the abbey fell eerily silent.

Damn it all.

He was out of time.