had never thought to pay heed to any clues. But what should she say to him now? Should she admit it?
‘You owe me no explanation, lady,’ he said, nodding to the path ahead of them. ‘I just want you to know that there is more to my cousin than he shows until he no longer needs you. When you become expendable, you will learn his truth.’
She shivered against the words and against the fear that he now spoke the truth. Could Caelan be hiding something from her? Arabella needed to think about this, but Brodie’s presence, staring at her as though willing her to believe him, made it impossible.
‘May I return to Margaret’s now?’ she asked.
She needed to get away from him. Too many words threatened to spill and too many accusations burned her tongue. Worse, too many questions bubbled within her. Letting them out would not find the truth for her or get Brodie to reveal anything more. Since her questions angered him and his reaction was to ignore her and them, it did her no good to pursue them now.
‘This way,’ he said, pointing to the left.
He did not offer his arm, but instead, motioned for her to precede him. This part of the path was familiar to her. Soon they reached the tent where Margaret stood waiting. Without a word she walked inside, seeking a place of refuge from the creeping tendrils of doubt that taunted her now.
‘Margaret,’ she heard him say. ‘Do not let down your guard with her.’
She should have been insulted by his words. Instead, she felt as though he saw that there was more to her. That he’d acknowledged it and saw her differently than anyone save her brother had done before.
And the warning was well warranted, for she had begun making plans for an escape. The darning and sewing she’d offered to help Margaret with gave her the opportunity to work on garments from others in this encampment. She started collecting clothing that would disguise her appearance. Once she had enough, she would find her horse and get away.
Even if she did not know the location, she knew she must go down, down from this place high in the mountains, down and towards a loch. Once on the main roads, she would find her way or find someone who knew how to reach her father’s lands.
It might take only another day or two, for she’d hidden away a pair of breeches under the pallet where she slept. The cloak she wore now would work nicely to cover her face. She yet needed a shirt or tunic and she would try. Margaret always left her at dusk to get their meal and it would be just dark enough to obscure her from anyone guarding the area.
One more day, two at the most, and Arabella would, at last, being taking some action and not sitting around waiting for rescue or release. And when she returned to Caelan, she would find out if Brodie spoke the truth.
From the tiny twinges of suspicion that plagued her now, she worried that he might have.
* * *
Obtaining the needed garments proved easier than she thought it would be. Though she could not guess how many lived here, clearly there were not enough women with sewing skills to mend and fix torn clothing. Or mayhap it was Margaret’s way of keeping her occupied during her imprisonment. For whichever reason, she’d welcomed it, for she liked nothing less than laziness. And it provided her with time to give thought to her plan.
Now, she watched the growing shadows outside the tent each time the flap moved in the wind and knew she would need to act quickly once Margaret left. Arabella had taken note of the twists and turns in the pathways as she was permitted to walk last evening with one of Rob’s men. Finally, Margaret put away the garments and pieces of fabric and sewing needles and shears and went off to get their evening meal.
Her stomach clenched with nervousness and she thought she might vomit from the tension in her. She stood and tugged and shimmied until she got her gown off over her head. Grimacing from the smell of too many days in the same gown, she
‘You owe me no explanation, lady,’ he said, nodding to the path ahead of them. ‘I just want you to know that there is more to my cousin than he shows until he no longer needs you. When you become expendable, you will learn his truth.’
She shivered against the words and against the fear that he now spoke the truth. Could Caelan be hiding something from her? Arabella needed to think about this, but Brodie’s presence, staring at her as though willing her to believe him, made it impossible.
‘May I return to Margaret’s now?’ she asked.
She needed to get away from him. Too many words threatened to spill and too many accusations burned her tongue. Worse, too many questions bubbled within her. Letting them out would not find the truth for her or get Brodie to reveal anything more. Since her questions angered him and his reaction was to ignore her and them, it did her no good to pursue them now.
‘This way,’ he said, pointing to the left.
He did not offer his arm, but instead, motioned for her to precede him. This part of the path was familiar to her. Soon they reached the tent where Margaret stood waiting. Without a word she walked inside, seeking a place of refuge from the creeping tendrils of doubt that taunted her now.
‘Margaret,’ she heard him say. ‘Do not let down your guard with her.’
She should have been insulted by his words. Instead, she felt as though he saw that there was more to her. That he’d acknowledged it and saw her differently than anyone save her brother had done before.
And the warning was well warranted, for she had begun making plans for an escape. The darning and sewing she’d offered to help Margaret with gave her the opportunity to work on garments from others in this encampment. She started collecting clothing that would disguise her appearance. Once she had enough, she would find her horse and get away.
Even if she did not know the location, she knew she must go down, down from this place high in the mountains, down and towards a loch. Once on the main roads, she would find her way or find someone who knew how to reach her father’s lands.
It might take only another day or two, for she’d hidden away a pair of breeches under the pallet where she slept. The cloak she wore now would work nicely to cover her face. She yet needed a shirt or tunic and she would try. Margaret always left her at dusk to get their meal and it would be just dark enough to obscure her from anyone guarding the area.
One more day, two at the most, and Arabella would, at last, being taking some action and not sitting around waiting for rescue or release. And when she returned to Caelan, she would find out if Brodie spoke the truth.
From the tiny twinges of suspicion that plagued her now, she worried that he might have.
* * *
Obtaining the needed garments proved easier than she thought it would be. Though she could not guess how many lived here, clearly there were not enough women with sewing skills to mend and fix torn clothing. Or mayhap it was Margaret’s way of keeping her occupied during her imprisonment. For whichever reason, she’d welcomed it, for she liked nothing less than laziness. And it provided her with time to give thought to her plan.
Now, she watched the growing shadows outside the tent each time the flap moved in the wind and knew she would need to act quickly once Margaret left. Arabella had taken note of the twists and turns in the pathways as she was permitted to walk last evening with one of Rob’s men. Finally, Margaret put away the garments and pieces of fabric and sewing needles and shears and went off to get their evening meal.
Her stomach clenched with nervousness and she thought she might vomit from the tension in her. She stood and tugged and shimmied until she got her gown off over her head. Grimacing from the smell of too many days in the same gown, she
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