Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(115)

At one point, Colin even sat him down against a tree, right next to a sharp rock. Duncan could have cut through the rope around his wrists in minutes.

He wished he could think it was a measure of brotherly devotion, but he feared a far more nefarious purpose. He suspected that Colin wanted him to try to escape so he had an excuse to kill him.

As they rode along the tree-lined road that would take them north, Duncan became even more convinced of his brother's intentions. Rather than toss Duncan over a horse and lead him, Colin had ordered Duncan's ropes loosened enough for him to be able to ride. Though the road was wide enough to travel three abreast, Colin ordered two columns with Duncan in the rear, but Colin always stayed close enough to get a shot off. His brother was doing his best to feign inattention, but Duncan sensed his constant watchfulness. He was like a serpent, coiled and waiting for that first move to strike.

Indeed, as the journey drew on and the night darkened, his brother's edginess only increased. He flinched at sounds. Shot furtive glances into the darkness, his eyes constantly shifting—almost as if he was expecting a ghost to jump out.

Perhaps he was. Duncan recalled what Jamie had said about the MacGregors and Niall Lamont. Colin's unease wasn't unfounded. More than once, Duncan had the distinct sensation that they were being stalked.

When Colin quickened the pace and ordered the man riding beside him to fall back and scout behind them, Duncan took the opportunity to fill the gap in the line and rode up beside him.

“Are you so anxious to see me to Inveraray or are you simply eager to get off the road?”

Colin didn't look pleased by the observation. He didn't like that Duncan had seen his weakness. “You by contrast, brother, seem surprisingly relaxed for a man hours away from a noose.”

Duncan shrugged. “I'm ready for the truth to come out.”

He didn't miss the sudden flash of alarm in his brother's gaze. “What truth?”

“I didn't betray our clan. Someone else stole the map and gave it to Grant.”

“Who?”

“I don't know.”

“What proof do you have?”

“None but my word.”

Colin laughed—was it with relief? “And you think that will be enough to spare your life? You've forgotten what our cousin is like. If I were you I'd be planning for something other than your word to get me out of this.”

Duncan gave him a pointed look. “If I didn't know better, brother, I would think you wanted me to escape.”

Colin didn't blink. “Now why would I want to do that?”

“You tell me. What's in this for you, Colin? What do you hope to gain by bringing me in?”

He flushed an angry red in the hazy moonlight. “I don't hope to gain anything. I'm doing my duty to our cousin that is all. I take no pleasure in this.”

“Don't you?” He wished he could believe it. “You know I didn't do what they accuse me of.”

“I know you've been tried and found guilty.”

“What reason would I have to betray our clan?”

“Jealousy. You were angry about my betrothal. Angry that father wouldn't let you marry the girl you loved.”

“Only because you got to him first. Why'd you do it, Colin? Why did you arrange that betrothal even though you knew I loved her?” Colin's mouth thinned, a mulish look on his face. “Did you hate me so much?” Duncan asked.

Colin's eyes flashed an angry blue in the darkness. “Yes,” he snapped. The burst of animosity surprised them both and Colin quickly regained control. “No. You should have known your place.”

Colin rode ahead and Duncan lost the opportunity to learn anything more. Perhaps he'd learned enough. Colin's resentment of him had been far deeper than he'd realized—far deeper than he suspected even Colin realized.

Colin drove forward in the darkness and rain, pushing the horses to the limit, but eventually they had to stop.

The men Colin had sent back to scout had returned with the news that they could find nothing, but still his brother was taking no chances. He set up a perimeter with half his men while the others saw to the horses.

Duncan had been separated from the other prisoners and sat along the water's edge, his back to a tree. He hadn't eaten anything all day and was surprised when the young guardsman offered him a piece of dried beef and ale. He thanked him and accepted it gratefully.

The boy looked around. “Is it true what they say about you?”

“Which part,” Duncan said dryly. “They say quite a bit.”

The boy tried to hide his embarrassment—unsuccessfully. “That you are the man known as the Black Highlander. That you are the greatest warrior—”

“That's enough, Gillis.” Duncan heard his brother's irritation. “Whatever this man's reputation on the continent, in the Highlands he is an outlaw convicted of treason.”

“Aye, chief,” Gillis said nervously. “Sorry, chief.”

“See to the horses,” Colin said. “It's time to go.”

Duncan's senses flared. This was it. No one was watching—the men were all slightly ahead of them, preparing to move on.

“Get up,” Colin said.

Duncan stood slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brother's hand move toward his belt, reaching for his pistol.