An Auctioned Bride (Highland Heartbeats #4)(43)

She shut down her mind, not even wanting to contemplate the two of them coming up with this horrid plan to get rid of her.

The convent. Had that even been true or just a ploy to take her away from the estate without triggering her or anyone else's alarm? She shook her head and then looked away from the now despicable and stomach-churning sight of her uncle and ever so slowly, eased her way back into the underbrush.

Dalla constantly looked behind her, watched where she placed her feet before she slithered back further. She snatched the fish she had caught and continued to ease away from the shoreline. It took quite some time to make her way back up the slope and finally gain the shelter of a nearby boulder. Only then did she realize she had left marks on the ground. Her heart still pounded. She had no way to erase those marks she had made. Any slight noise might be heard above the bubbling of the water and garner their attention. Would they find her trail?

She tried to brush away the marks closer to the boulder behind which she momentarily hid, and hunched low to the ground, then quickly made her way back to the cleft in the rocks. She did the best she could to cover her trail, but she couldn't count on that. She doubted that the men would stray far from their camp with dusk approaching, but she wasn't going to assume anything anymore.

By the time she made her way back to the opening in the wall, her thoughts were racing, her hands trembling with anxiety and fear.

She saw that Hugh was awake, trying to lift himself up on his elbows. Every day he had grown a little bit stronger, but it still took a great deal of effort for him to even sit up, leaning his weight against the rocks behind him.

She stood just inside the opening, staring at him, not sure what to think, what to say, or what to do.

He glanced up at her and then frowned. His muscles tensed as his gaze riveted to hers.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

“It is my uncle,” she finally mumbled, her voice harsh with pain and a heavy sense of betrayal. “It is my uncle who did this.”

He frowned. “How do you know—”

“We have to leave, Hugh. They're out there… they're out there!”





25





Hugh stared in startled dismay at Dalla, who stood shadowed in the opening in the cleft in the wall, but even from the shadows, he could tell that her face was extremely pale.

Dark circles of worry under her eyes became more evident. Her wide eyes, easily visible, the pulse throbbing at the base of her throat alarmed him.

“Take a breath, Dalla.”

She heaved in a deep, shuddering breath and let it out, ending with a half-sob. She clapped a hand over her mouth, blinking back tears. Her reaction forced him to sit straighter, ignoring the pain throbbing in his thigh. He had begun to recover, but it would be a while before he was back to his old self. The fear on her face, the terror, only reinforced his frustration that he wasn't fully capable of protecting her as much as he would like.

“Take another breath, let it out slowly.”

She did.

“Now tell me. What has happened?”

She took another deep, shuddering breath, then pointed behind him, into the rocks of the mountain.

“I went down to the stream to fish. Of course, I stayed in the underbrush where nobody could see me. I don't know how much time passed, but then I smelled wood smoke. Very carefully, I found a good vantage point and saw four men, although there could be more. I didn't stay long enough to find out—”

“Four men. What were they doing?”

“It looked like they were making camp. Several in rougher clothing, like you, Scottish clothing and leathers,” she said, gesturing toward his clothes. “Then I saw our mare—”

Anger surged through Hugh. “Our mare? Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I'm positive. She was tethered with their horses near the trees. They were making camp in a small space between the trees and the riverbank.”

He bit back an urge to confront the thieves. He had paid his good, hard-earned coins on that horse, but without knowing more about the situation, he didn't see a chance of getting her back.

He looked up at Dalla. “Go on.”

“As before, the men who were chasing us, the ones who hurt you… I saw the man in town clothes, or city clothes, or whatever you call them here.” She paused and swallowed. “And I recognized him.”

Again, her features transformed. She wrapped her arms around her waist, as if holding her insides in. She hunched forward slightly and made an odd, gasping sound.

He waited.

“Hugh, I recognized my uncle… Uncle Amund—”

She couldn't speak anymore, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. She lowered her face and covered it with her hands. She stood there, trembling, silently crying. The sight surprised him. She had been through so much already and he barely saw her shed one tear. Then again, being betrayed by one's own family, knowing for a certainty that they were trying to kill you… he took a deep breath, trying to plan.

“Gather our belongings.”

“But Hugh, you're still very weak. How can we—”

“You said they're camping on the river. To the northwest?”

She nodded.

“My gelding is on the east side of this rock face, isn't that right?”

Again, she nodded.