An Auctioned Bride (Highland Heartbeats #4)(50)

He knew where to find Derek, in a village about a day's ride up the coast. A moderately sized seaport on the northern outcropping between Moray Firth and Spey Bay. The village was unfamiliar to Hugh. Now all he had to do is convince his brother to help them. If possible, he wanted his brother to take them by ship around the northern tip of the country through Pentland Firth, then down along the western coastline into the Minch. From there, they could possibly venture into Loch Broom, making landfall at the southeastern point of the loch and then make their way overland from there through the mountains, and southeastward toward Ben Nevis and the Duncan lands.

Even if they did manage to get that far, the overland travel would be dangerous, as they would need to venture through the lands of enemy clans such as the Orkneys and the McGregor’s. It seemed impossible, but they had no other options. With so many looking for Dalla in this region as it was, he seriously doubted that they would get far before someone picked up on their trail. The bounty was huge. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that Dalla's uncle wanted her head and would be satisfied with nothing less.

For now, he wanted to appreciate the feeling of her lying next to him. He heard her breath, low and regular, convincing him she was fast asleep. For days, she had not complained about her situation or her fate. He couldn't imagine the thoughts and dreams swimming in her head.

One thing he did know, and that he had not lied about. Whether Derek helped them or not, he would find a way to get Dalla back to Duncan lands. After that, Laird Duncan, Jake, and the others could figure out what to do and how to keep Dalla safe. It wouldn't be the first time they had sheltered a woman in dire straits. If anyone understood his predicament, it would be Maccay. Though their situations have been entirely different, Alis had also been a marked woman, one who could have easily have been killed if not for the Duncans providing protection, to the point of breaking a truce with enemy clans.

And if that didn't work, Hugh would take Dalla somewhere far away from Duncan lands, away from the place where he had spent most of his years in the shadows of Ben Nevis. If he had to go to France, he would do so.

The conviction of his determination and his growing feelings for Dalla gave him strength. The strength of knowing he was doing the right thing.

She not only belonged to him, but she was his responsibility now.

He took that responsibility seriously.





30





The following morning dawned cold and chilly, with a thick fog rolling in off the sea, cutting visibility down to just over a stone's throw. While that was good for Hugh and Dalla because they could leave the area under cover of the fog, it also triggered new dangers. He didn't know the coastline, didn't know the hiding places, the potential for where an attack might come. And though he was sure that Dalla had not been spotted in this town, she had been with him in the few before. She had kept herself covered in the blanket as much as possible, but…

He knew that gossip would travel faster than they could, so they would have to push themselves and his horse to reach Kincarny before day's end. Then, if his luck held, his brother would be there and not out to sea somewhere.

Nevertheless, as Hugh saddled Agnarr, jumped on, and helped Dalla onto the horse’s back, he was already planning for a worst-case scenario. If he didn't find his brother in Kincarny, he would have to go inland again. Toward less populated areas where rumors wouldn't travel as fast. He could survive even the harshest that the wilderness had to offer, but with winter coming on, he just wasn't sure whether Dalla could.

For a while, maybe a few leagues, he kept his horse to the coastline, hugging sand dunes, keeping the sound of the ocean in earshot. As the fog began to burn off, he headed further into the rugged foothills.

It was rough going at times, to the point where Agnarr had to carefully pick out the route in the pebbles and rocky base of the cliffs rising above. He also knew that his horse was tired, bearing the weight of both of them. He'd stumbled more than once yesterday.

Another sobering thought. The thought of something happening to his beloved gelding prompted Hugh to slow his pace even though he wanted to push forward.

As the day wore on, the weather changed. Heavy cloud cover moved in from the sea, from the northeast, bringing with it a bitingly icy chill. He constantly found himself looking over his shoulder, watching for signs of anyone following them.

Soon, Dalla did the same. Her grip on his torso tightened. He felt her fear and occasional quiver. He could say nothing to ease it. By the time the dull glow of sun burning through the clouds reached its zenith, they were both on edge. They had barely spoken five words to each other since they left their hiding place near the beach.

Then, in the distance, he saw tendrils of smoke rising into the cloudy sky, now growing ever darker, another fog bank rolling in.

“Is that it? Is that Kincarny?” she asked.

He nodded.

The sight of the town provided a sense of relief, but at the same time, uncertainty. His heart began to pound at the thought of reuniting with his brother, and he grew tenser as they made their way closer to the town, which from here looked deserted. A light rain began to fall, cold, icy, and uncomfortable. The breeze kicked up, and soon, the rain came down harder. Not a downpour, not yet, but Hugh wouldn't have been all surprised if it started to snow.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the village, Dalla had done her best to cover herself and her hair with the blanket, once again wrapping her arms around his torso, clasping the edges of the blanket in front of him as well.