The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(85)

How the hell had they found them?

Knowing that the English would come looking for the missing soldiers, he’d dragged the skiff down the beach, making sure to leave plenty of tracks gouged in the sand. He wanted the English to think they’d fled. They didn’t know the old skiff wouldn’t last five minutes in the heavy currents of the channel.

He rowed them to the larger of the two small islets known as Sheep Island, off the northern tip of Spoon. From there he could see most of the western side of the island and the English ships guarding the bay, though not the beach itself.

He’d left Ellie in the cave under another natural arch while he watched, paced, and tried to keep a rein on his anxiousness as he waited for the English to give up the hunt. But every minute passed with excruciating slowness.

Time was his enemy. The McQuillans were expecting him tonight, and the short time frame for them to reach Arran for the attack—the very next night—left him little room for error. As the day wore on, and not knowing what he would find when he returned to the bay, the roughly fifteen-mile journey to Ireland suddenly loomed large.

He knew there was nothing he would have done differently—the prudent move had been to stay put—but he couldn’t help second-guessing himself.

The tension was tying him in knots. When Ellie came up behind him and put her hand on his arm, he jerked.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” She peered through the murky, drizzly skies to the cove where they’d nearly been discovered. “Have they gone?”

He nodded. “A short while ago.”

Not long after he and Ellie had fled in the skiff, a galley had landed in the cove. It left quickly and returned a short while later with a second ship. This time the English stayed much longer. Finally, a few minutes ago, one ship had sailed south, and the other headed north to Kintyre. Erik hoped that meant the English believed they’d fled the island.

“Will they be back again?” she asked.

“Probably. But not today. It will be dark in a couple of hours.”

“What happened to the other ships?”

“I don’t know. They moved beyond the mouth of the bay and I lost sight of them.”

If the fleet was returning to the Ayrshire coast—where the English were stationed—they would sail south of the island, opposite where he and Ellie were now.

“When can we go back?”

He could see the agony of his own fears reflected in her eyes. “Soon.” Knowing how difficult this must be for her, he drew her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. It had been a tumultuous day for both of them—in more ways than one. Yet through it all, Ellie had demonstrated strength and resiliency that made him proud. Not to mention the arrow she’d saved him from.

He wondered if she realized that she’d chosen him over the English from whom she’d sought rescue not two weeks ago.

She curled against him, burrowing her head against his chest. He stroked her hair, feeling calm for the first time in hours. “You must be hungry.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t even thought about food.”

He understood. Like him, she was worried about his men and the villagers.

“Do you think …”

She didn’t finish the thought, but he knew what she’d been about to ask. He tipped her chin and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. A hard pang squeezed his chest. “They’ll be fine,” he assured her with more confidence than he felt. He hoped the English would leave the villagers alone, but his men were outlaws and the dragon banner had been raised. Anger surged inside him, but he held it at bay, knowing he could do nothing about it—yet.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lifting her face to his. He could see the tears shimmering in her wide hazel eyes. “I know you would have gone to help them if it wasn’t for me.”

“Nay,” he said roughly. “I wouldn’t have.” He didn’t want her to blame herself. Actually, slipping away with Ellie might have just saved his entire mission. He could well be in the same circumstances as his men. “I couldn’t risk it. There is something important I must do.”

“For Robert?” He looked at her strangely, and she blushed scarlet. “It’s how the family refers to him.”

He didn’t say anything. Though he knew he could trust her, he was under orders to keep his mission a secret.

But she’d already put most of it together. “The Irish soldiers …” Her voice dropped off. “You are to bring them to him. When?”

“Tonight.”

Her eyes widened. His sentiments exactly.

“What if you are late?”

“That’s not an option.”

He felt her eyes on him. “I see.”

He knew she realized what it meant: an attack was imminent. “I don’t need to tell you what is at stake.”

She shook her head and fell into a contemplative silence.

He waited as long as he dared. With only an hour of daylight left, he helped Ellie into the skiff and rowed back to the bay, staying close to the shoreline and carefully checking before rounding any blind curves.

It was deathly quiet as he pulled the skiff around the headland into the mouth of the bay. The fires that had been lit on the beach still smoldered, and the deathly scent of smoke tinged the tangy sea air. The bay itself was empty, with not a single fishing boat in sight. He swore, realizing what must have fueled the fires. His situation had just gotten even worse. The English were taking no chances. If he was still on the island, they were going to make sure it stayed that way by burning any method of transport off the island.