Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

T here was little chance that half the castle hadn't already heard them, so Hugo gestured to Abigail to stop throwing things as he headed for the window. He figured it would be best if he went down first and she followed him, so that he could catch her if she slipped, so he began scaling down the wall, keeping his feet planted as he descended.

Once he reached the ground, Abigail followed. She, too, was sure-footed, moving with surprising speed and grace down the rope until she slipped on a patch of the fa?ade that was covered in vines. For a moment, from the way she flailed, Hugo feared she would let go of the rope and land right on him, but she quickly regained her composure and started to move down as smoothly as before, travelling down the length of the rope little by little.

Hugo was there to grab her as she came close, but as he was about to put his hand on the small of her back, Abigail moved and his hand ended up on her rear instead, bringing them both to a halt.

Abigail looked down at him as Hugo looked up at her, both silent, as they couldn't make any noise. Her face was distorted with anger, a vicious frown painted on her features as she kicked at him, missing him almost entirely, save for a gentle tap of her toes against his shoulder.

Hugo had to stifle a laugh, though Abigail was not at all amused. Still, she had little choice but to let him help her down to the ground, and once they were both with their feet firmly on solid earth once more, Hugo turned to look at her questioningly.

"What now?" he asked. "How were you planning to escape?"

Abigail hesitated for only a moment before she said, "Wait here." Much to Hugo's chagrin, she started running towards the stables even as he hissed at her to come back. Cursing, Hugo looked around to make sure there was no one there before he rushed after her, watching through the small window to see what she was doing.

She had the stable boy cornered, speaking to him softly as he trembled like a leaf, his face flushing a deep red color. For a moment, Hugo considered intervening, but perhaps that would only make the situation worse, so he stayed put.

"I'm only askin' fer a wee horse, Lachlan," Hugo heard Abigail say to the young man. Her voice was a sweet soprano that sounded rather different from the one Hugo was used to hearing from her. "But ye must promise me ye willnae tell anyone ye saw me."

Hugo saw the hesitation in Lachlan, in the way he made an aborted move, as though he wanted to obey Abigail but then thought better of it.

"Where will ye go?" Lachlan asked. "What if they ask me?"

"Ye'll tell them ye havenae seen me at all," Abigail insisted. With a sigh, she grabbed the boy's hands, clasping them tightly and bringing them close to her chest. "Please… I wish I could tell ye why I must dae this, but there is nae time. If ye cannae help me, then I understand, but I wish ye would. It would be so dangerous fer me out there without a horse. It will take me a long time tae walk tae the next village an' what if I meet someone dangerous on the way?"

"T-that's what I fear," said Lachlan, his gaze flitting between Abigail's eyes and their clasped hands. The poor boy was on the verge of fainting, it seemed. "Even if ye have a horse, the roads can be very dangerous. There are brigands out there. There are people who willnae hesitate tae hurt ye, especially if they ken who ye are."

"I will keep me identity a secret," Abigail promised him. "An' I willnae be in as much danger on a horse. Ye ken I ride well. I'll escape if anyone approaches me."

Still, the boy was not convinced, not until Abigail leaned close and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. "Please," she said. "Will ye make me beg?"

What is with this girl?

Lachlan babbled something incomprehensible, his face even redder than before. The blush had spread all the way to the tips of his ears that peeked out of his brown locks. A few words from Abigail and a simple kiss on his cheek had been enough to reduce him to this mess, but Hugo supposed he couldn't blame the poor boy. It wasn't every day that someone like him had the full attention of such a girl—noble-born, pretty, and terribly sweet, Abigail must have been everything he had ever dreamt of.

"Alright," Lachlan said, finally relenting. He took a deep breath, nodding seemingly to himself. "Alright."

As he spoke, though, he didn't move, at least not until Abigail let go of his hands. For a moment, he stared forlornly at his own, before he buzzed around the stables, getting a small horse ready for her.

"Yer own horse?" Abigail asked.

"Aye," said Lachlan. "So they willnae suspect I've seen ye. I'll tell them I took her tae me faither tae use fer a while. But ye must promise me tae bring her back."

"I will, I promise ye," said Abigail as she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek once more. When she pulled back, Lachlan almost collapsed, as though his knees were too weak from the kiss to keep him upright. Once again, Hugo had to hold back a chuckle, as he didn't want to give his position away, nor did he want to make the poor boy feel embarrassed for having such an obvious and massive infatuation with Abigail. "Thank ye, Lachlan. I willnae forget what ye did fer me."

Before Lachlan could say anything else, Abigail took the reins and left without another glance. Hugo walked around to the other side of the stables to meet her, so he could remain hidden from Lachlan, and the two of them slipped out of the castle and into the wilderness behind the grounds.

Within minutes, they were down a small path, following it through a wide-stretching forest.

They had only been riding for a few minutes when they realized they had a problem. Hugo was far from a small man, tall and bulky with muscle unlike Lachlan, and though the horse could carry them well enough, it was difficult for both him and Abigail to fit on the saddle. With the way they were sitting, Abigail's back was pressed firmly against Hugo's chest, each step of the horse forcing their bodies to rub against each other.

In front of him, Abigail was stiff as a board and Hugo was not doing any better. He didn't mind the physical contact—quite the opposite, in fact, and that could very easily become a problem, he knew. The last thing he wanted was to become aroused while riding with Abigail. There was no way she wouldn't feel it, and if she had kicked him when he accidentally touched her rear, then she was bound to kill him if she felt his manhood on her back.

Hugo desperately tried to summon any other thought to his mind; anything from what could be happening in the castle now that they were gone, to boring meetings that he had to attend time and time again as Domnhall's right hand.

That's right. Think about Domnhall. That should help.

With growing horror, he realized that it did not, in fact, help at all.

In an effort to distract himself, he decided to ask the one thing that had been bothering him ever since he had come into the late Lady Robertson's room earlier.

"So, you never told me why you had tae leave," he said. "You promised you would."

"Aye, so I did," said Abigail. "I suppose now is as good a time as any."

For a long time, though, she didn't speak. Hugo waited patiently for her, only because it seemed to be a serious matter, something that bothered her greatly.

When she spoke again, she did so by drawing a deep, steadying breath. "I overheard Finnian an' Niall discussing their plans following the weddin'. They wished tae kill me faither an' Cormac, an' make it all seem like an accident, so they could take over the clan an' the land an' the gold."

"What?"

It was all Hugo could say. It seemed impossible that something like this would happen, but Abigail had no reason to lie about it, at least not to him. Perhaps she had misheard them, he thought. Perhaps she had misunderstood.

"Are you certain?" he asked. "Did you hear them well?"

"O' course I did," said Abigail. "I'm nae naive, Hugo, nae matter what ye may think. I ken what I heard."

A chill ran down Hugo's spine as he processed the news. He began to steer the horse back, before Abigail grabbed his hands and stopped him.

"What are ye doin'?"

"We must go back," he said. "If what you say is true, then we must warn them. We must tell your faither. We must tell Domnhall and Cormac."

"We cannae," Abigail said. "Did ye think I didnae consider that? I wish it would be that simple. But I have nay proof other than what I heard an' the order tae wed me tae Finnian came straight from the king. Everyone kens I didnae want this marriage. What if the king thinks we are lyin' just because I dinnae want Finnian as me husband? Can ye imagine what he will dae tae me faither then?"

"What else is there to do?" Hugo asked. What Abigail was saying was true enough but he couldn't leave everyone unaware of their situation. This meant Finnian and Niall were dangerous, much more so than anyone could have predicted. How could Hugo simply leave when so many lives were at stake?

"I dinnae ken," Abigail said. "Perhaps we can try tae find some proof. But until then, we must leave."

"And leave everyone behind?"

"They'll be safe as long as they think I've been taken," Abigail said. "Finnian an' Niall need me. They need this marriage. They willnae make a move until they have me, so with me gone, they have nay choice but tae dae naething."

Begrudgingly, Hugo had to admit that Abigail was right. He had always thought of her as a little too fanciful, a little naive and unaware of the important things that were happening around her, but she was proving him wrong. She was thinking several steps ahead, though he still didn't think that leaving was the right approach to all this.

"Perhaps I can write Domnhall a letter and explain everything to him," Hugo said with a sigh.

"I dinnae ken if that is wise," said Abigail. "It could be intercepted."

"And yer stable boy could talk," Hugo pointed out. "Yet you still asked for his help when I could have simply punched him unconscious, no? It would have been very easy. He is but a little thing."

Abigail gasped as if offended. "Ye will dae nay such thing, ever," she said, her voice harsher than he had ever heard it before, a stark contrast to that sweet tone she had used with Lachlan. "I dinnae wish fer anyone tae be punched because o' me, especially nae someone from me clan. An' especially nae Lachlan."

"You're fond of him," Hugo said. It wasn't a question. Though she had seemed entirely uninterested when she was leaving Lachlan behind, now she was more than willing to protect him fiercely.

"O' course I am," she said. "I am fond o' many. An' besides, if someone came tae take me away, he would have come with his own horse. He wouldnae be stealin' one from the stables. Lachlan would have tae ken where the horse went so he could make up a plausible lie."

Once again, Abigail was thinking ahead. He had been quick to judge her and now his consideration of her morphed quickly into something new, something that demanded his respect, no matter how reluctant he was to give it.

"How can you be so certain that he won't speak?" he asked, simply because he hated being wrong. He still thought that a good blow to the head, just enough to stun him for a while but not do any real damage, would have been the better, cleaner option. Now Lachlan was a liability. As much as Abigail liked to think he wouldn't tell anyone the truth, Hugo didn't trust him that much. Everyone had their levers. Everyone eventually talked.

"I simply am," Abigail said with a small shrug, as though it was that simple. "He kens I wouldnae ask such a favor o' him if it wasnae important an' he trusts me. He trusts me because I trust him. That is how it is in our clan."

Were the Robertsons and their people truly so loyal to each other? Or was it simply that Abigail was close with her people, so much that they would do anything for her? Hugo didn't know, but either way, he couldn't help but be impressed by her close bonds with everyone.

Humming softly, Hugo leaned a little closer. The discussion had distracted him enough from the pressing matter of his arousal that he could get a little bolder, laughing softly just to see the way Abigail's hair swayed against her neck as it was disturbed by his breath.

"Do you always get what you want, then?" he asked.

He expected her to throw back a scathing remark. He expected to hear anger in her voice, anything that would show that he had successfully ruffled her feathers, but instead she, too, laughed softly.

"Aye," she said. "I dae."

Unfortunately, Hugo couldn't help but respect that as well.