The Legend of a Rogue - Darcy Burke Page 0,34

wholly and horribly apparent. Several villains stood around the perimeter of the room while the inn’s guests, Balthazar, and Carrie sat in the middle.

Balthazar sat at a table with Carrie, his brow furrowed and his eyes spitting fury. Carrie sat stiff and straight beside him. Elspeth decided she and Leah should sit with them. She wanted to somehow communicate to them that Tavish was going to save them.

Weaving through the tables, Elspeth led her aunt to the innkeeper and his daughter and helped her to sit. “I promise—everything will be fine,” she whispered before kissing Aunt Leah’s soft cheek. It was damp from her tears, and Elspeth wanted to lash out at the men who’d caused her distress. She settled for glowering at them before sitting down herself.

The men who’d brought them downstairs went to the fireplace, where a handsome man with loose, shoulder-length dark hair and a close-cropped beard stood. While they spoke quietly to one another, Elspeth leaned over to talk to Carrie and Balthazar.

“Mr. MacLean is outside,” she whispered. “He will save us.”

Balthazar grunted as he tossed a hate-filled stare toward the fireplace. “They said they have the stables, and the grooms have been dealt with.” He sniffed. “It’s likely MacLean has already suffered the same fate. They won’t tell me what they did with my dogs.” He blinked and sniffed again, then wiped the back of his hand over his nose.

Elspeth’s insides twisted, and her breath stuck in her lungs. She tried to breathe but couldn’t.

Aunt Leah reached over and took her hand but said nothing. While Elspeth appreciated the attempt at comfort, it didn’t stop the terrible cold spreading through her.

“We shouldn’t tell them about MacLean,” Carrie said quietly from Elspeth’s right.

Elspeth looked to the other woman and nodded. Carrie clasped her hands on the table, and it seemed to Elspeth that she was perhaps shaking.

Elspeth glanced around, taking stock of who was in the room. “What about Dougal?” she whispered.

Carrie gripped her hands tighter so that her fingers started to turn white. “They tied him to the bed in my chamber.”

They were interrupted from further conversation by the voice of the handsome man at the fireplace. “Good evening, friends.” He spoke in a crisp, slightly foreign accent, perhaps Dutch, but Elspeth couldn’t be sure.

“We aren’t your friends,” Elspeth spat.

He looked pointedly at Elspeth. His mouth curved into a beguiling smile. “Perhaps it’s too soon to expect that, but I hope that will change.” He lifted his gaze to survey everyone. “We are here to find something. Help us do that, and we will leave immediately.”

Lann Dhearg. Elspeth exchanged a look with Carrie, then was careful to turn her attention toward the man at the fireplace.

“I think one or more of you probably already know what we seek.” He slowly perused the room, his gaze boring into each person in turn. “Come forward now, and you can go about your evening.”

Elspeth’s heart beat so fast, she was sure someone would notice. She worked to keep her outward appearance relaxed, but feared she was squeezing Aunt Leah’s hand rather tightly. Giving her an encouraging smile, Elspeth loosened her grip.

The silence in the common room grew. Everyone looked around, mostly in fear. In addition to Elspeth and her aunt, the guests were one single man, a married couple, and three women.

“I’m disappointed no one will speak,” the man said, frowning. He inclined his head to a man standing not too far to his right. Then he pointed at Elspeth. “Her.”

“No!” Aunt Leah grabbed Elspeth’s arm.

“Don’t fret, Aunt Leah,” Elspeth said with a calm she didn’t feel.

The man came toward her. He was very tall, with wild, straw-colored hair and small, intense eyes. He held a flintlock pistol and had a sword strapped to his hip.

Elspeth stood and squared her shoulders, hoping the posture would give her some much-needed courage. “What do you want with me?”

The man at the fireplace gestured for her to come forward. “Kent, bring her.”

Kent reached for her, but Elspeth hurried around another table and went to the man who was apparently their leader. She gave him a defiant stare as she arrived at his side.

The leader’s eyes glittered with impatience. “My men said your room was cold. Tell me why.”

“I was overheated. I had the window open.”

“Then why were there men’s boots in your room?”

Oh, hell. She hadn’t even had time to consider that. Heat rushed to her face, and she didn’t think it was possible he wouldn’t notice.

“They’re mine,” she said with