A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,71
mum, Iver,” Fiona said graciously. “Good day, gentlemen.”
Padruig grasped the bridle again, though Fiona held the reins, and led the mare past the soldiers. The Englishman and the two other Black Watch seemed pleased with their chance encounter. Iver saluted Fiona wistfully.
“Take care, Fiona. Perhaps I’ll see ye at your brother’s at Hogmanay?”
“Perhaps.” Fiona nodded down at him, as though it made no difference to her.
She managed to remain composed as Padruig led her on, Gair following, but her mouth was dry, her limbs trembling. She adjusted her scarf over her nose, its warmth welcoming.
Would the soldiers see Stuart? Hear him? Shoot him outright? And where had Stuart gone? He knew these woods and valleys better than most. Would he vanish over the mountains, never to be seen again?
Her heart pounded, and her fingers twitched. She wanted to urge Piseag to run, run, run, so she could find Stuart but knew that would be the height of foolishness.
They rounded the bend. The soldiers did not follow, though Fiona did not risk glancing back to see whether they watched.
Padruig and Gair kept up a steady but not rapid pace, Gair raising his voice in a badly out of tune song. Another mile went by, and another. They saw no more soldiers, and Fiona began to relax.
Fiona also did not see Stuart. They traveled for an hour, the road leaving the hills and striking over a glen toward mountains beyond and the castle where Broc Macdonald had retreated, nursing his injury.
Clouds began to blot the sky. Fiona would have to turn aside soon, as she’d promised, though how she’d fulfill her mission without the bag Stuart had taken she did not know. She could only do her best.
They stopped in the shelter of a tree to water the horse in the nearby stream, Padruig breaking ice with his boot. In a low voice, Fiona explained to the two men what she meant to do. As predicted, Gair argued, but Padruig gruffly agreed and stared Gair to silence. Then they went on.
Fiona saw no sign of Stuart as the clouds gathered, and she realized as the miles went by, that he was truly gone.
Stuart, who’d been shadowing Fiona and party, pulled his coat close against the growing wind. He knew they were heading for Broc’s castle in the next glen, so he could simply hurry there and wait for them. But leaving Fiona to the mercy of Gair and Padruig, not to mention any Hanoverian soldiers lurking about, did not appeal to him.
Stuart was surprised, then, when Fiona turned off the small road that would take her to her brother’s castle, and wended her way up a path toward a tiny crack between two tall mountains.
Chapter Five
Stuart followed at a discreet distance as Fiona’s horse went higher into the foothills, around a stand of snow-covered boulders, and out of sight.
There was nothing back there. Stuart knew every nook and cranny of this part of the Highlands, especially so close to his own lands. No one lived in that bleak area of the mountains, and no road led through the rocks. It was a dead end.
The phrase made him shudder. Stuart scanned the open ground between himself and the boulders, then sped his steps to cross the snowy valley, not slowing until he’d reached the rocks behind which Fiona had ridden.
The bag he carried weighed on his back. He’d had a look inside and found Fiona’s things, but also men’s clothing, secondhand and worn, the kind laborers would wear. Several sets of them. He’d studied them in puzzlement—why on earth was she riding around the Highlands with such gear?
Stuart reached the outcropping in time to see Fiona, the horse, Una, Padruig, and Gair, vanish in a cleft in the rocks. Stuart skirted the snowy boulders and approached.
When he started into the black shadow between the rocks, he suddenly found himself staring down the tip of Padruig’s knife. Stuart halted, the point against his nose.
Padruig recognized Stuart, blinked, and relaxed. “Ye’d better come in.”
A blanket had been tacked between tall rocks, forming a door of sorts against the cold. Behind it, Stuart found Highlanders, half a dozen of them.
The men had grubby, bearded faces and weariness in their eyes. Stuart recognized a few of them, the rest he did not. Retainers and men, foot soldiers of Prince Teàrlach’s army. Those who’d fought and then fled for their lives when the word came down that no quarter was to be given.