Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

F ive days had passed since Abigail and Hugo had left Robertson Castle and two of those days had been spent watching Chattan Castle for anything that could help them slip inside unnoticed. Two days in which Abigail slept on the ground, the two of them making do with the food they had purchased from the last town they had found on their way, with no fresh clothes and nothing but a stream nearby where they could bathe in cold waters.

Abigail had spent as little time in that stream as she could, cleaning up quickly before immediately jumping back out and joining Hugo’s side. It wasn’t the cold so much that bothered her, but rather the thought that someone could see her there, that someone else might be using the stream to bathe or that some brigands could be lurking nearby. Then there was the matter of all the creatures of the forest that could roam by. Abigail had no problem encountering a deer but the last thing she wanted was to see a snake nearby when she was all alone.

It was far from comfortable, and both Abigail and Hugo were quickly getting frustrated with their lack of progress—Abigail more so, as Hugo was still not entirely convinced that infiltrating the castle was a good idea.

“How are we even meant to slip inside unnoticed?” Hugo asked as the two of them sat behind a row of bushes, just barely tall enough to conceal them. They had crept close to the castle grounds in the cover of the evening on foot, leaving their horse behind, moving slowly through the wilderness to avoid being spotted by any guards, and were now watching carefully at anyone who approached—two people so far, both of them servants. “No one goes in unless they have reason to be there. Even the merchants stay at the doors.”

It was true, Abigail knew. The merchant carts they had seen that morning had only taken their goods as far as the gates and from there, it had been the servants of the castle who carried the goods inside, so they couldn’t pretend to be merchants. They couldn’t pretend to be servants either, as all of them would be known to the others working in the castle, and they both could hardly pass as servants with their mannerism and especially Hugo’s accent.

“Look,” Hugo said, pulling Abigail out of her thoughts. “Who is that?”

Abigail followed his gaze to a cart that rolled leisurely down the path. Once it stopped, a good ways away from the castle, a woman jumped off and continued her approach on foot as the cart turned around and headed back towards the same way it had come. The woman was wearing a cloak that obscured her from any curious eyes and her stride was purposeful, her feet moving quickly over the ground as she approached the gates. No matter how much Abigail squinted her eyes, she could make out nothing else about her.

The guards opened the gates for her without questions and she slipped inside quietly, disappearing from view.

“A courtesan,” said Hugo. “It must be.”

“A courtesan?” asked Abigail, eyes wide with surprise. It hadn’t occurred to her that a courtesan may visit the castle, but she supposed it wasn’t that odd. Many in the castle could be partial to her company and it was far from unheard of for nobles to request such services. “Dae ye think she is here fer Niall?”

“Has Niall returned, then?” Hugo asked. They hadn’t seen him arrive at the castle, but perhaps it was only because he had managed to beat them to it or he had arrived at a time when they weren’t watching. “She could be here for someone else, no?”

“Aye, I suppose,” said Abigail. “Either way, she’s inside now. We should follow her an’ see if we can find out what she kens.”

“And how, precisely, do you think we’ll do that?” Hugo asked. “Are we simply to start a conversation with her?”

“Perhaps,” said Abigail with a small shrug. “Or perhaps we can simply watch her. We will see.”

She could sense that there was more Hugo wanted to say, as he took in a breath and parted his lips as if to speak, but in the end, he settled for silence. He wasn’t approving of her plans, Abigail knew. He thought them too dangerous, too reckless, but what other choice did they have? Abigail had acted with caution for a long time and that had only led her to be betrothed to a man who wanted to kill her loved ones. She had no use for caution anymore.

“What now?” Hugo asked after some time had passed and nothing had happened.

For a few moments, Abigail remained silent, considering their next move. There was only one path she could see, only one way forward. “We wait,” she said. “An’ when she comes out, we follow her.”

Hugo sighed, but he didn’t protest, perhaps realizing that it was, indeed, the only thing that could help them. For the next couple of hours, they stayed there, so they would not miss the moment the woman came out of the castle.

By the time the courtesan appeared again, the two of them were starting to feel tired, but the moment Hugo spotted her, he perked up, sitting up a little straighter. “There she is,” he whispered. “Shall we follow her?”

Abigail nodded silently and the two of them let the courtesan pass by them and head down the path before they followed, keeping a safe distance from her. This time, there was no cart to take her back, it seemed, and she simply walked, her gait just as fast and purposeful as when she was heading to the castle.

It was now quite late and the only light to illuminate the path was that of the moon and the stars. At least the darkness was covering their tracks, allowing Abigail and Hugo to follow her without the woman ever spotting them, though that was perhaps due to Hugo’s insistence that they remained within the bounds of the trees, even though Abigail feared that they would lose track of her. Every now and then, the woman would disappear out of her view and after a while, Abigail would be convinced they had lost her, only for her to reappear in front of them once more, just as Hugo seemed to have predicted.

He was a good scout, Abigail thought, moving silently and efficiently, to the point where she struggled to keep up with him. At the same time, he didn’t leave her behind, always waiting for her to regain her footing when she slipped, always there to catch her when she tripped over a tree root.

For her part, Abigail did her best to remain quiet so as to not alert the woman to their presence, even though she doubted they were close enough for her to hear them. Abigail couldn’t hear the woman’s footsteps, so she figured she couldn’t hear theirs either, but she knew it was better to be careful just in case. For all she knew, the courtesan was used to watching her surroundings. It would make sense, she thought, especially if she was left to return home alone in the early hours of the morning.

Eventually, they reached the edges of the nearest town, the same one where Abigail and Hugo had stopped two days prior to rest and restock their food supplies. On their way there, they had met no one else.

Abigail and Hugo only came to a halt when the woman entered a tavern. Upon seeing her, they glanced at each other, both of them with the same, questioning look on their faces that asked what now?

“We should go inside,” said Abigail, deciding on the spot that they had no other choice. “An’ ye should go talk tae her.”

“Me?” Hugo asked in an indignant whisper. “Why me?”

“Well, I cannae go!” Abigail pointed out. “Ye’re a man. Ye’re the one who would seek out her company, dinnae ye think?”

“But you are a woman and she is also a woman,” Hugo said as if that made any sense. “You’re both women!”

“Precisely,” said Abigail. “Which is why ye should go.”

Hugo had nothing to say to that, or at least nothing that could save him from his fate. He sucked in a breath through gritted teeth and then straightened his clothes and smoothed his hair back, reminding Abigail of a bird preening itself to court a mate.

It was an amusing sight, though she failed to find much humor in it when she felt a strange pang of pain in her chest, something ugly and uncomfortable that she didn’t want to consider for too long, fearing what she would find out about herself if she did.

“Go in first,” he told her. “Find a table, somewhere where you can watch us and the door. If anything is wrong, let me know.”

“How should I dae that?” Abigail asked. “I can hardly yell at ye from the other side o’ the room.”

“Gesture,” Hugo said. “Trust me, I will be watching you. I’ll know if you want to tell me something.”

It wasn’t entirely reassuring, but Abigail supposed they hardly had the time to formulate an entire plan of communication. Instead, she headed into the tavern, first confirming that the courtesan was still there, leaning casually against the counter as she spoke to the man behind it, before she took a seat at a corner table from where she could watch the door and the courtesan.

It was a few minutes later when Hugo entered the tavern. His gaze swept over the room at first and he acted disinterested in the crowd there. It was only on his second sweep that he seemed to notice the woman, though Abigail knew it was nothing more but a performance. From the moment he had walked in, he knew precisely where she stood.

Upon spotting him, the courtesan shifted her stance and removed her cloak, draping it over a nearby chair. The dress she wore underneath had Abigail’s cheeks heating, the blood rushing to her face as she took in her ample curves which seemed to spill right out of her neckline, her breasts barely contained by her clothes.

Abigail couldn’t help but glance back at Hugo, too curious to know how he was looking at the other woman to resist. He was a handsome man, that much was obvious to everyone in the room, and Abigail had no doubts the courtesan would be more than happy to have him as a client for the night.

The mere thought had her stomach twisting into knots.

Hugo’s face revealed nothing as he approached the woman, though Abigail didn’t know whether he was truly unaffected or if he was doing it for her sake—or even, perhaps, if he was putting on a performance in the hopes that the courtesan would be even more interested in him if he pretended to have little interest in her. The courtesan was a pretty woman, but more than that, she was alluring. There was something lustful in her gaze and in the way she held herself, something that had every man in the room looking at her.

Why wouldn’t Hugo be one of them, too? He, too, after all, was a man.

Hugo drew in a few deep breaths before he followed Abigail into the tavern. He could do this, he told himself. He had no issues charming women, after all, and he hardly had to charm a courtesan when her very job was to please him.

And yet, he had never had to charm a woman in front of Abigail before. Perhaps it was foolish, being so affected by her presence that he could hardly bring himself to speak to another woman, even when it was all for the sake of their plan, but no matter how much he tried to tell himself that, his mind refused to acknowledge the truth.

There is nothing between me and Abigail. It was only a night and we swore it would never happen again.

He didn’t need to worry about how he looked, flirting with the courtesan. He didn’t need to worry about Abigail’s feelings because there were no feelings between them.

No feelings. None at all.

Hugo had to swallow the lump in his throat as his gaze fell on Abigail and he forced himself to quickly look away. It didn’t take him long to capture the courtesan’s attention, which didn’t surprise him. Out of everyone in the room, she was bound to think he was the best client she could have for the rest of the night.

He knew he had managed to catch her in his hooks when she swiftly removed her cloak, revealing her scantily dressed body, her gaze never straying from him as he approached her. Under any other circumstances, perhaps he would have considered paying her for the night, having some fun while gathering information at the same time, but once again, his mind didn’t seem to understand that he should be interested in this woman. Something had shifted inside him, something monumental that had erased every trace of interest in this attractive woman.

“Good evening,” Hugo said as he slid in the chair next to her when she moved to the nearest table. “Aren’t you just like a jewel in this place? What’s your name?”

The woman smiled, leaning closer to accentuate the swell of her breasts. “Ye can call me Caitriona,” she said. “A foreigner in a plaid? It isnae somethin’ ye see often.”

“I’m afraid it was the only choice I had,” Hugo said with a small shrug.

“Dae ye find it comfortable?” Caitriona asked as she laid her hand right where his plaid ended and then slid it up his thigh. The gesture startled Hugo, whose leg jumped on its own volition and hit the underside of the table with a loud bang. He cursed under his breath, pain radiating out from his knee all the way up and down his leg, but Caitriona only laughed and gave his thigh a squeeze before removing her hand.

“Are ye easily scared?” she asked, her grin turning predatory. “Dinnae fash. I’ll take good care o’ ye.”

Hugo plastered the most charming smile he could muster on his face, trying to keep himself together even as he watched Abigail from the corner of his eye. She was watching him like a hawk and that alone was enough to make him act like a fool, like someone who was scared of the mere touch of a woman.

If he wanted to get information out of Caitriona, he had to get over himself and regain his usual charm.

Reaching out with his hand, he gently tucked a stray hair of her brown hair behind her ear and then let his fingers trail down her neck and shoulder slowly, his eyes tracing the same path. Caitriona gasped at the gentle touch, her lips parting, and Hugo knew he would hardly have to make any real effort.

“Or perhaps I’ll take care of you,” he said in a whisper, barely audible over the ruckus of conversation in the room. “Would you like that, Caitriona? Someone to take care of you?”

Though she didn’t respond, Hugo saw the hunger in her eyes as she looked at him, the blue of them nothing but a small ring around her pupils, wide with arousal in the dim light of the room.

Now that he had her attention, he had to find a way to get the information he needed and then a way to leave without her suspecting anything. Perhaps he could pretend there was an emergency or even create one himself, though it was all easier said than done.

There was one thing he knew for certain: he could not get Abigail out of his mind.