Chapter 7

Hugo saw Sorcha standing near the byre end of the largest of four crofts that made up the clachan. To his outrage, she wore a tattered cap, dusty brown leggings, a mid-thigh-length saffron shirt, a dirty padded-cloth jerkin, and common hide boots with the hair still on them. When he saw that she had not ended her perfidy there but had hacked off her lovely amber-golden hair to no more than chin length, a strong desire possessed him to swoop down on her in the same fashion that the villains had swooped down on the wedding party, and beat some sense into her.

At the same time, seeing her safe, he experienced profound relief.

Whether in reaction to the former feeling or the latter, he held up a hand in command to his men to draw rein, then rode on to confront her alone.

Noting the grim look on Sir Hugo's face as he approached her on the big black horse he rode, and realizing that he had recognized her despite her disguise, Sorcha felt sudden, unexpected alarm. At the same time, knowing she was close on the heels of the villains who had taken Adela, she was glad to see him and annoyed that he had brought so few men with him. Surely, he ought to have brought twice as many to be sure of defeating the villains and rescuing Adela.

She greeted him, glowering and arms akimbo. "Where are the rest of your men?" she demanded. "For that matter, where are my father and Hector?"

In response, he reined in and dismounted.

She had forgotten how tall he was, how broad his shoulders were, and how powerful he looked. He dropped the reins to the ground, evidently expecting the huge beast to stand quietly. Irritatingly, it did. And since she was as certain as she could be that it was not his horse but one he had hired in Oban or borrowed from Hector or the Admiral of the Isles, the sight stirred her temper again.

Then he put his hands on his hips, blatantly imitating her posture and making her feel smaller, which only increased her fury.

"Well?" she demanded. "Art mute, sir?"

His voice surprisingly quiet, since his expression warned her that an explosion must be imminent, he said, "I think you will prefer to have this conversation privately… my lady."

The last words being clearly an afterthought, his tone just short of taunting, she felt her temper straining to rip free. "I see no cause for privacy," she said.

"I think you will shortly change your mind about that."

She raised her chin. "Will I? Why should I?"

"Because you will not like being soundly thrashed in front of my men and the inhabitants of this clachan. By now, all of them are watching us."

A thrill of fear swept through her, because she believed he would do it, but that belief just fueled her temper. Still glowering, hoping he would believe that his threat did not intimidate her, she said with forced lightness, "Is that how you deal with adversity? You beat it into submission?"

"I do when the ‘adversity' in question deserves beating," he replied.

"Well, you have no right to correct me or to beat me, so if you lay a hand on me, it will be naught but assault. That is still a crime in Scotland, I believe."

"Aye, it is, but only if your father agrees to call it a crime. Do you doubt that he gave me leave to punish you for what you have done?"

Unfortunately, she had no doubt that Macleod had told him to make her smart. But she held her head high, daring him to do it.

He met her angry gaze, and suddenly, to her even greater vexation, she thought she detected a twinkle in his eyes. Then, when they continued to twinkle, she felt her fury ease. She had forgotten what an unusual color his eyes were, that extraordinary cerulean blue that no mere male should possess. His lashes, too, were longer and darker than any man's had a right to be.

The twinkle faded, but his gaze continued to hold hers so intensely that when he spoke, the harsh sound of his voice startled her. "If you prefer, we can walk in yon woods to have our talk," he said. "I'd suggest, though, that you restrain your inclination to defy me, because I rarely react tolerantly to defiance."

Thinking it best to ignore that suggestion, since she had no intention of obeying it, she said, "My sister will return soon."

"When she does, my men will tell her that we'll be back shortly."

"I'd prefer to wait for her."

"Nay then, we're going to talk."

"She'll be frightened if she does not—"

Her words ended in a screech when he scooped her up, tossed her over his right shoulder, and began striding toward the woods with her. Raising her head, she saw his men watching, their expressions carefully blank. The villagers were not so tactful. She saw grins and realized ruefully that had not everyone already guessed she was female, her screeching had made them a gift of that fact.

Being so abruptly plopped facedown over Sir Hugo's shoulder had knocked most of the wind out of her, so it was a minute before she recovered wits and voice enough to order him to put her down.

When he ignored her, she pounded his back with both fists.

His answer was a hard smack on her backside that made her yelp again.

"Put me down, you beast," she cried. "By heaven, if you don't I'll—"

She broke off, grinding her teeth, unable to think of anything terrible enough that she could do to him. No one, man or woman, had ever treated her so—not since childhood, at all events—and she had no intention of allowing him to continue to think he could. On the other hand, she had no idea how to stop him.

Deciding she could not gain the upper hand or regain her breath as long as he loped along with her bouncing painfully on his shoulder, she held her tongue, hoping he would put her down when they were out of sight of the others.

When he did, setting her on her feet in the middle of the path, she drew a deep breath and said hastily, "Before you read me a lecture or do whatever you mean to do, you should know that those villains are just a day ahead of us. They camped near here night before last. Moreover, there are more than a score of them now. You'll need more men to defeat them."

"So now you are going to command me, are you?" His voice had acquired an edge that she had not heard before, one that raised the hair on her neck and made her want to put distance between them.

Before she could, his hands clamped tight to her shoulders, hands powerful enough to do with her as he would.

"I didn't mean to give orders," she said curtly to his chest. "I just meant…"

Again, words failed her. Feeling at a distinct disadvantage with her nose almost touching that broad chest, she looked up and discovered that, that close, to look him in the eye, she had to look up a good distance.

"What did you mean?" he asked, those blue eyes locking with hers again, their expression intense. Her emotions shifted suddenly from anger and undeniable trepidation to something else, something she had never felt before.

Giving himself a mental shake, Hugo silently cursed himself. To be standing thus with a lass—nay, with a lady born, despite the disreputable outfit—was as mad as her own behavior in dashing off to pursue her sister's abductors. If she deserved skelping for that, then by heaven, so did he for what he was feeling now.

She looked so small in her boy's clothing. Worse, the clothing did nothing to disguise her shapely legs and slender but well-rounded figure.

Nevertheless, he could not let her think she had bested him. Her misbehavior had been dangerous, his own merely thoughtless. He had a duty to see her safe, and that duty demanded that he show her the error of her ways at once.

When she tried again to step away from him, he allowed it but kept his expression stern. "I should put you over my knee," he told her. "But you need to ride a considerable distance yet, and for that, you must be able to sit."

"Aye, and we must go straightaway if we are to catch them."

"You are going back to your father," he said.

"If he wanted me, why did he not come after me himself?"

"Because he promised to join his grace's flotilla, and he must keep his word. Moreover, I told him I would come. I warrant he'll be pleased to see you, though, if only to punish you as you should be punished for what you have done."

"Well, you cannot send me anywhere," she snapped. "Not only do you bear no authority to order my coming and going, but I have no intention of leaving Adela's safety in the hands of a man whose duty may demand that he abandon the search before he can rescue her. Moreover," she added, stepping back hastily when he reached for her again, "you need me and Sidony both if you are to preserve any appearance of decorum whilst we travel together."

"Decorum!" He burst into laughter. "You dare preach decorum to me? I should think the word would turn to ashes in your mouth. You should be soundly punished, my lass, not only for disobeying your father—Oh, aye, he told me he forbade you to follow your sister. Did you think he would not?"

"I paid that no heed," she declared rashly. "When no one else would go after her, I had to go. And if you are here because my father discovered I had gone, then I'm glad I did it. At least, now someone besides me is trying to find her."

"By heaven," he said, seizing her shoulders again and giving her a shake, "I don't care if you do have to ride all the way to Oban with a sore backside. I'm going to teach you respect for those with authority over you."

"But, you have no knowledge of Adela's condition!" she cried. "Even if those men have not harmed her—which I doubt—she will be terrified and hysterical after such an ordeal. You will need me and Sidony both to look after her!"

He hesitated, appalled at the image she had forced into his mind.

"Indeed, sir," she went on quickly, "if you and your men rescue her without us, and take her all the way home, you will just exacerbate the position that her abductors have put her in. She will certainly have to travel with you for more than a day. Sakes, your own honor, if you have any, would bind you to marry her."

"Don't impugn my honor," he said curtly. "I'd not be here had you not made me realize that I bear nearly as much responsibility for this mess as you do."

"I don't!"

"Aye, sure, you do. You know you had no right to involve yourself in your sister's affairs, let alone mine. And if her abductors did not learn of her wedding by intercepting one of your messages to me, I shall be very much surprised."

"Oh." Her eyes widened, so either she had not considered that possibility or had hoped it would not occur to him.

"Moreover," he went on relentlessly, "you bear sole responsibility for the fact that no one pursued them. Had you not told all of Glenelg that you expected me to stop the wedding, and that Adela hoped I would, every man who was there would have begged, borrowed, or stolen a horse to ride to her rescue."

She was silent before she said with a sigh, "You are right, sir. That was my fault. Do you really think my message is how they learned of the wedding?"

"Aye, and what's more, I think it suggested the plan they used."

After another thoughtful silence, she said, "If you accept responsibility for what happened, does that mean you will marry Adela when she is safe again?"

"My intention is to rescue her if she requires rescuing and return her to Chalamine, if necessary, or to your father at Edinburgh—where he should be by Monday next—if that course proves more practical, as I expect it will."

"But Ardelve's failure to search for her proves he has no intention now of marrying her. And after she has spent such a long time with so many men, one cannot blame him. If you will not marry her either, what is to become of her?"

"I have not said I will not," he said more gently. "I know that by having assumed any responsibility for the lady Adela, honor will demand that I offer her the protection of my name unless she refuses it. But she does retain that right, and I will not force myself upon her or allow your father, or you, to force her to accept me. That decision must be hers alone."

Clearly relieved, she said, "Adela is not a fool."

Hugo agreed. No sensible woman would be foolish enough to spurn such an offer, and the lady Adela was a sensible woman.

After another silence, which Sorcha showed no inclination to break, he said, "Since we are agreed that I am honor bound to offer her my protection, you must also agree now that it would be better and safer for you to return home."

She stiffened. "I will agree to no such thing, and I do not know how you think you can make me go. I slipped away from two boatloads of my father's men, after all. Do you imagine I cannot outwit the few you would spare to go with us? And how foolish is it to deplete your force to provide us an escort? Not to mention that whether honor binds you to Adela or not, you have said it must be for her to decide if she will accept you. Until she does, to be alone with you and your men will just add to the destruction of her reputation, will it not?"

He realized that further argument would be a waste of breath. Not only had she made several persuasive arguments, but he knew that if Waldron was collecting men as he went, he would need to acquire more himself before they met.

Another point occurred to him. Since following the abductors had proven easy enough for the two young ladies to manage it, he suspected their leader of using Adela to bait a trap. If that was the case, he did not want to ride into it, especially if Sorcha and Sidony insisted on going along, as Sorcha clearly would.

His mind leaped to another possibility. If the villain was Waldron and he was laying a trap, might he not seize any opportunity to snatch two more Macleod sisters to supplement his bait? Hugo knew the likelihood was strong.

He knew, too, that his cousin wanted to catch Michael and himself more than he wanted to hold the Macleods. He might seek revenge against Isobel for pushing him off the wall-walk, of course, but she was beyond his reach.

Perhaps he also sought revenge against Henry, but that was less likely. Henry's power was too great. As Prince of Orkney, he could draw on the Norse King to support him, as well as on the King of Scots. But perhaps Waldron was confident enough to believe that with enough bait he could entice even Henry.

It required but a moment's further thought for Hugo to decide that he could not send Sorcha and Sidony home with an escort of only two or three men. He would therefore have to keep them, but he needed a way to divest himself of them as quickly as possible. He also needed reinforcements and sound advice. He could think of only one place where he could fulfill all three necessities.

If Waldron was heading for Edgelaw, he would not risk a confrontation on unknown terrain if he could avoid it. Although the temptation to attack Hugo's small force with his greater one might be strong, Waldron—or whatever villain had taken Adela—would wisely assume that Hugo had an alternative plan of defense. If the leader of the abductors had studied his opponents, he would also assume that Lachlan Lubanach's spies were at work and that Hector Reaganach was raising an army to rescue Adela. The one thing Waldron himself was unlikely to imagine was that Hugo and Michael already suspected that he had abducted Adela.

Therefore—or so Hugo hoped—Waldron would continue to lead them toward the battleground of his choosing, a battleground much nearer to Edgelaw than to the Highlands. They were only fifteen miles or so from Lochearnhead and could make Edinburgh in two days' time. From there it was less than ten miles south to Roslin Castle, where Hugo would find not only his aunt, the formidable Isabella, Countess of Strathearn and Caithness, but his father, as well. Sir Edward Robison would be at Roslin now, making preparations for the important gathering that they and the Sinclairs had arranged to coincide with the spring removal of the King of Scots' court from Stirling to Edinburgh.

Both Isabella and Sir Edward would provide him with advice, Roslin would provide at least some of the reinforcements he needed, and Isabella would know exactly how to deal with the irrepressible Lady Sorcha.

Accordingly, he said, "In truth, lass, what damage your sister's reputation has suffered cannot be undone or worsened by traveling with me and my men. But we have other things to consider, for although we were able to travel at speed, thanks to Hector Reaganach's horses, we'll be slower now unless we can find fresh mounts for you three. I'm thinking we're more likely to find horses ahead than behind, though. And I agree that dividing my men would be to our disadvantage."

"Aye, sure," she said, nodding.

He went on, "I had not expected to find you so close to the abductors, but they still outdistance us by at least a day and will doubtless continue to do so. I think our best course is to continue following them without trying to engage them yet. We are but two days from Edinburgh, so the sensible course is to press on."

He sounded too glib, he knew, but she lacked his experience and, he hoped, the ability to understand an enemy's tactics or strategy. In any event, he was not going to share his thoughts with her about Waldron and the treasure he sought.

Sorcha felt only relief. Something in Hugo's expression told her that her arguments alone had not persuaded him, but at least he had listened to her when many men would not have. Certainly, her father would not.

Feeling more in charity with him than she had since meeting him, she said, "I'll fetch Sidony so we can be on our way."

As she moved to pass him, however, he stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder, stirring a prickling of unease that his next words did nothing to dispel.

"One moment, my lady, we have not finished our talk."

She looked at him. "I cannot think what more we have to say."

"Only this, lass. Do not press me too far. I am not your father, nor do I always follow the rules of civil behavior. Too often, in a crisis, such rules get in the way, and if we are to travel together, you will be wise to understand that. If you defy me, I will have no more compassion or consideration for you or your sensibilities than I would for any disobedient lad under my command."

"What would you do?"

"What do you think I would do?" His startling blue gaze met hers again, rekindling that odd, unfamiliar sensation inside. For a brief, crazy moment, she felt a compelling urge to defy him, to discover exactly what he would do. Then, in a blink, she decided she would be wiser to leave well enough alone, at least as long as she was still dressed as the lad to which he had just compared her.

She knew what her father did to disobedient lads. He ordered them flogged.

So instead of provoking him further, she said, "If I knew what you would do, I would not have asked. Still, I know I would not like it, so I will strive to remember all you have said to me."

"See that you do," he said with a look that seemed to pierce through her. Glancing over his shoulder, he added, "Your sister is coming."

She peered past him to see Sidony some distance down the path, hurrying toward them. She looked frightened.

"Pray, sir, do not terrify her. She fears you, and none of this was her doing. She accompanied me only because she could not bear to let me come alone."

"Something you doubtless counted on," he retorted. "If you feel no shame for anything else you have done, you should feel some for endangering her."

"She has not been in danger," Sorcha said. "Nor would I do that."

"Would you have me believe you witless?" he demanded, frowning heavily enough to stir the hairs on the back of her neck again. "Despite your recklessness, I have given you credit for integrity. But either you are deluded or you have not given a moment's thought to all that you have done."

"Helping Adela is all that counts," she said stiffly. "Nothing else matters."

"I recommend that you consider the nature of the men you follow."

"I know naught of them but that they captured her."

"Exactly, so you know they believe they had reason to abduct at least one Macleod sister," he said. "You also know that they are even more daring and reckless than you are."

"Don't call me reckless," she snapped. "I have taken great care."

"Aye, sure, and how did you know when you stopped here that they were not camped in these very woods?"

"But they weren't here anymore!" she said as Sidony silently joined them.

"You didn't know that, and they could have been," he replied, paying Sidony no heed. "Had they been here, what was to prevent them from adding two more Macleod sisters to their string, like fishermen taking fish from the sea?"

She glowered at him. "You won't frighten me with fairy tales, sir, but you are frightening Sidony, and I want you to stop."

Sidony said in a tremulous tone, "But, Sorcha, what if they had been here?"

"Don't let him scare you, love," Sorcha said, forcing calm into her voice despite wanting to shriek like an alewife at Hugo for his thoughtlessness. "If they had still been camped here, the good folk of the clachan would have warned us when we arrived. Only recall how quickly the old man told us they had been here."

"That's true, sir," Sidony said, looking at Hugo. "He told us straightaway that strangers had camped here, and he told us how many there were. I assure you, had they still been here, we would have left at once."

Sorcha could see that he had to fight to retain his calm, but his tone revealed little of his annoyance when he said quietly to Sidony, "My lady, we are all going to leave shortly, so I would count it a favor if you would go and ask your lad to show my men where they can water their horses."

"Is Sorcha not coming, too?"

"Aye, we will all go, but I have something more to say to her before we do, so if you would be so kind…" He smiled at her, gently lifting his eyebrows.

Without hesitation, she smiled back and said, "Aye, sir, I'll tell Rory."

"Whilst you're about it," he added, "see if the women in the clachan have more appropriate clothing they would be willing to lend you and your sister. These garments are none too clean."

"Yes, sir," she said, smiling more widely yet. "That would be that dreadful manure. We tried to clean it off, but the smell just clings, so I'll be glad to do that."

"Tell me about the dreadful manure," he said as they watched her hurry off.

Sorcha shrugged. "We helped a man and his wife carry away the old thatch from their roof and mix it with the pile near their byre."

"I see," he said. "And you did this because of your generous hearts?"

"We did it because we had asked them for food. Not that we could have objected, of course, not without revealing that we were females."

When he chuckled, she muttered a few choice words.

"What was that you said?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, promising herself that she would explain to Sidony that artless prattle and blind obedience were not what would serve them best with this man. "I am sure your men could find water for their horses without Rory's aid, and the women here probably have no more clothes than those on their backs. In any event, Bess bundled our other clothes, so we could wear those if we had to."

"If you mean the dresses you wore to his grace's installation, they won't do. I don't want you looking like noblewomen."

"She'll do as you bade her," Sorcha said. "She always does. But you sent her off so you could speak to me," she added. "What more can you have to say?"

He grew stern again as he said, "I warned you about challenging me. I have restrained myself, but do not think in future that your sister's presence will protect you if you speak to me as you did just before she joined us. I did not suggest that the villains might want more than one Macleod sister just to scare you."

"I don't believe that."

"Have a care," he warned. "I will not lie to you. I may not always tell you all I know, but I won't lie. I cannot deny that I'd hoped my words would frighten you, and I readily admit I'd not have spoken as I did had I remembered the lady Sidony was likely close enough by then to hear me, but—"

"But she did hear you," she interjected.

"Aye, she did, but the brutal truth is that if the man we follow is who I think he is, he seeks revenge against several people. He believes he can do as he wants with impunity and will not care how many Macleod sisters he hurts in the process."

"Who is he?"

Ignoring her, he said, "If you had stumbled on this clachan before he and his men had left it, no old man's warning would have protected you. Moreover, he probably knows exactly who is following him and how close you are. Had he chosen to stay here longer, he would have been waiting for you, and you would have had no way to defend yourself."

She shivered but said staunchly, "How can you know that? Indeed, how can you know anything about him?"

"He is my cousin," Hugo said. "He was born out of wedlock in France, but I have known him since he was fourteen, when he came here. I was eleven."

"Faith, are you in league with him?" she demanded.

Hugo was beginning to read her better, and he knew he had succeeded in frightening her a little, even shocking her, but despite the fact that such emotions might make her more tractable and thus suit his purpose better than the truth, he could not let her think he might be an ally of Waldron's.

"Nay, lass," he said. "In truth, I cannot even say for certain that he is leading that band of ruffians."

"Then, how dare you—?"

Her hand flashed up, but he caught it easily and held it tight.

"Nay, you wee skelpie," he said. "You'll not strike me again."

"You said you'd never lie to me," she said through her teeth.

"Nor have I." When her jaw remained tense, he realized he was hurting her and eased his grip without releasing her hand.

"You said you know him, that he is your cousin."

"I said if he is the man I believe him to be, he is my cousin."

"But you don't know!"

"I have no proof," he said. "I'm as sure as I can be, though."

"Why?"

"I had a dream," he said reluctantly, knowing he could not adequately explain his certainty that the dream's message was true.

He expected another burst of temper, but she only frowned and said, "What sort of dream?"

He found it surprisingly easy to describe it for her, much easier than describing it to Michael. She listened with an intensity he had rarely noted in anyone, male or female, and when he described the moment Waldron had stepped aside to reveal Adela, she nodded with a satisfied air.

"A truly striking dream, sir. I warrant Adela was trying to reach out to you, and somehow you connected with her thoughts in the dream world."

"My cousin Michael said it was more likely the result of too much brogac after supper, or mayhap, at best, merely ordinary logic," he said.

"But why would it be logical to suspect that another of your cousins had taken Adela?" she asked.

"In truth, it would not be, since we both thought he was dead."

"Dead! But when did he die?"

"Last summer," Hugo said, anticipating both her next question and her likely reaction to the answer.

"How did he die?"

"Your sister Isobel pushed him off the ramparts of Roslin Castle into the river North Esk," he said, watching her.

"Isobel! But why?"

"She had good reason," Hugo said. "I'll tell you about it another time, but I think we had better go now. I warrant the lady Sidony will have found suitable clothing for you both by now. I don't want anyone thinking I've encouraged you to ride about the countryside in those disreputable garments."

"Very well," she said. "But you need not think we have finished this conversation, sir, because I mean to have the whole tale out of you. In truth, I think you have much more explaining to do than I have."

Knowing he could not tell her the whole tale and wondering how he could tell her enough to satisfy her without telling her too much, Hugo cursed himself for a fool and hoped she was not a prattler.