The Secret Clan: The Complete Series

by Amanda Scott

“You will tell them yourself,” he said firmly. “You have your horse now, so although its saddle is likely ruined, I’ll put you on its back, and you will ride straight back to Dundreggan. Once there, you will confess to Sir Alex exactly what befell you. You may have jeopardized much that I’ve fought for by your actions today, and I do not mean to let you do it again. Do you understand me, lass?”

  It occurred to her that in his anger he spoke more like a gentleman, but she did not question the difference. The growl was in his voice again, and she did not want to linger if he was going to go on scolding her.

  Grimly, he said, “I asked you a question.”

  “I understand what you want me to do,” she said, gathering her dignity.

  “Then you will obey.”

  “I do not know how to get to Dundreggan from here,” she said, taking care not to make any promise. “I do not know this area very well yet.”

  “Another excellent reason not to ride alone,” he said, his sternness unabated.

  Bab gritted her teeth, but her silence did not disturb him. He merely caught her around the waist and lifted her to the gelding’s saddle.

  “Sit still,” he commanded when she reached for the reins. “Leather stretches when it gets wet, and I want to tighten this girth.”

  “My saddle is not the only thing that got wet,” she pointed out. “I’m soaked to the skin, and I must look a fright.”

  “Aye, lass, we’re both a sorry sight, but at least we’re safe for now,” he said, unbuckling the belly strap, then pulling hard on it. “That will do, I think,” he said as he rebuckled it. “Remember, you are to ride straight to Dundreggan, and as soon as you arrive, tell Sir Alex everything that happened. It is important, because some of Francis Dalcross’s men are bound to show up at Dundreggan, demanding to know your whereabouts, and they will doubtless insist upon questioning you.”

  “They’ll not dare to harass me at Dundreggan!”

  “Aye, but they will. Recall that they saw you in my company today, and not for the first time, I’ll remind you.”

  She had not considered that detail. Perhaps she would have to tell Alex, after all. She had not intended to do any such thing, no matter what the Fox decreed, and certainly if he did not press her further to promise him. But if the sheriff or his men came looking for her… Worse, if they said they wanted to question her about the Fox, she might have to tell not only Alex but also his father and mother about today.

  Her companion had fallen silent, and she wished again that she could read his expressions. She hoped he was not still angry, but his eyes—stony gray again—had narrowed to slits, or else in her guilt, she imagined they had. She looked away.

  “You have not given me your promise,” he said.

  “I agree that I must tell him before the sheriff’s men arrive,” she said with a sigh. Then, hoping to divert him so he would not insist on anything more exact than that, she said, “How will we go? Surely the river swept us farther away from Dundreggan, and we shall have to go back past all those horrid men.”

  “I know a way,” he said, turning his attention to the stallion.

  Bab watched him check his saddle girth as he had checked hers, then mount with the easy grace she so much admired. Without another word, he led the way along the rocky shore to the opening of a grassy glen. They were on the same side of the river as the cliff from which they had jumped, and he led her away from the water, up the glen toward the crest of the ridge.

  Alone with her thoughts as she followed him, she tried to imagine her impending meeting with Alex. Reading his mind was impossible even when they were face-to-face, and trying to imagine how he might react to anything she did or said gave her a headache. She had never known anyone like him.

  She tried to remember if she had ever thrown anything at Patrick and decided that she might have when she was small. But she knew exactly how he would react if she did so today, and she had definitely never thrown anything at Kintail. The very thought sent a shiver up her spine. Surely, the only reason she had dared throw the mug at Alex was that she had known he would not retaliate as most Highland men would to such an act. The thought was disturbing. Was she a coward?

  They followed the ridgeline for a short time, and she thought they must be nearing the moor where they had hunted, because they were high enough now so she could see Glen Affric spread out below as she had then. When the red-and-gray towers of Dundreggan came into view, her companion drew to a halt.

  “See that track,” he said, pointing.

  “Aye.”

  “Follow it back down to the river, and ye’ll easily find your way. Since we’re already within sight of the ramparts, ye’ll be safe from our pursuers. For that matter, if they approach from that end of the glen, everyone will have warning in minutes. If ye hear the horns, increase your pace, but ride gey carefully.”

  “Thank you,” she said, noting that his accent had returned but saying nothing about that as she extended her hand politely.

  He grasped it, and she could feel the warmth of his enfolding hers even through her gloves. She had not thought about her clothing for some time, but it occurred to her now that the ride had been more comfortable than she had expected.

  “You won’t believe this,” she said, “but my clothes are nearly dry.”

  “I believe it because mine are, too,” he said. “ ’Twas the breeze, I’ll wager.”

  “But—”

  “Dinna waste time, lass. They’ll be looking for ye soon.”

  She nodded, not wanting to think about that.

  If Sir Alex had troubled himself to miss her, he might exert himself further and send someone in search of her, but she doubted that he would feel so energetic as to seek her himself. More likely, Lady Chisholm or Lady MacRae would raise the alarm when she did not appear for the midday meal. That would not be long, though, for the sun was already high in the sky.

  Clicking her tongue, she urged the gelding forward as if to follow the track but glanced back as soon as the horse moved, doing so in such a way that it would not be obvious. As she had hoped, the Fox was already turning the stallion to the west. She glanced back again a moment later, but man and horse had vanished.

  Drawing rein, she listened, hearing only the wind in the trees and the distant hushing of the river below. Satisfied that she could hear no hoofbeats, and that he would not hear her either, she turned the gelding and urged it back toward the hilltop. Having noted the barest trace of a second track, one that followed the line of the wooded ridge to the west, she believed that he had followed it. Her curiosity about him greater than ever now, she decided to see where he went.

  Following the barely visible track through the trees, she soon caught a glimpse of movement ahead. Relieved to know she had been right about his direction, she hoped now that she could follow him to his lair without being caught. She did not want to think about what he would do if he did catch her.

  After a time, the track bent downhill, away from the river, wending its way through shadowy, silent woodland into a declivity. As the trees grew thicker, it became harder and harder to discern the track, until it was almost invisible.

  No longer certain of her direction, since the thick, green canopy of branches overhead hid the sun, she followed the track as much by instinct as anything else, but she still felt safe. These were his woods, after all. If he could ride through them safely, she could, too. In any event, he would come if she screamed, and although he would be angry again, he would let no real harm befall her. In time, too, she could surely find the river again, although she had not heard it for some time.

  When the sun’s rays penetrated the canopy ahead, she realized she was approaching some sort of clearing. To her surprise, it proved to be a narrow side glen with a burn bubbling down through it. She saw no sign of her quarry, however, and all she could hear was gurgling water.

  Her sense of direction had failed her, and the sun high overhead was no help. For no reason that she could have explained, she tur
ned uphill along the tumbling brook, but she had not ridden far before she saw the first hoofprint in damp sand near the water. Drawing rein, she realized that if the Fox had continued to ride beside the burn, she would see him ahead of her. Since she could not, either he had taken to the woods again, or he had found a ford and crossed the burn. Boulders dotted the opposite shore, some easily large enough to conceal a horse.

  She wondered if he had seen her and lay in wait. The thought gave her pause, but curiosity outweighed concern, so she rode on and soon found more hoofprints. These, as expected, turned toward the water, shallow enough at that point to ford.

  Riding across, she found a discernible track and followed it, keeping watch as well as she could in that terrain for any sign of him. There were no more hoofprints. The loose scree concealed them, and because she had to concentrate to follow the track, she nearly missed the entrance to the cave.

  At first, she was not sure it was a cave, for it looked like a black shadow behind one of the largest boulders. But ahead she could see that the trail ended where the narrow waterfall that fed the burn tumbled from a high rocky cliff. A nimble person in clothing other than skirts might climb it, but a horse could not. Yet neither the stallion nor its rider was anywhere to be seen.

  Dismounting, she tethered the gelding to a scrubby bush. Then, drawing a few deep breaths to steady her pounding pulse, she made her way as quietly as possible across the loose stones, behind the boulder, into the opening.

  The boulder had masked its size, but although she saw now that it was easily large enough for a horse to pass through, she heard no sound from within its shadowy depths. The opening penetrated a solid rock wall, and she soon discovered that the passage turned, then turned again. When she reached the second turning, the dimming light from behind had faded away. Still, she heard no sound from within.

  Scarcely daring to breathe, putting one foot ahead of the other with care and concentration, she eased forward, keeping a hand on the rock wall to guide her way. Surely, she thought, a horse would make noises that would echo through a cave.

  Was that a light?

  Peering into the blackness, she was certain she saw a distant flame.

  The way to the tiny light seemed vast. She doubted that she could go even half so far without giving away her presence by stumbling on uneven ground, kicking a loose stone, or worse, plunging into some unseen hole or crevasse. To be sure, the passageway beneath her feet seemed as flat as Dundreggan’s hall floor, but she knew that the ground in a cave was unlikely to be consistently level.

  Even as the thought crossed her mind, the wall she had been touching to guide her way ended so abruptly that she nearly lost her balance when her hand met empty space. Awkward moments passed before she could breathe normally again.

  She took two steps forward, then stopped, realizing that to go farther without light would be so dangerous as to be sheer folly. Even that tiny, distant flame had disappeared, and might well have been only a figment of her hopeful imagination.

  The place was empty, and even if it were not, only an idiot would continue without knowing what lay ahead. With a sigh, she turned to leave, only to walk bang into the solid, muscular body that barred her way.

  Startled nearly out of her wits, she shrieked and nearly collapsed, but two strong hands caught her hard by the shoulders and gave her a shake.

  “When you follow a dangerous animal into its lair,” he growled, continuing to hold her in that iron grip, “you should be prepared to pay the consequences.”

  Despite the threatening words and tone, she felt only relief. “You frightened the liver and lights out of me,” she said. Her throat was dry, but her body was already recovering from the shock.

  “You deserve to be frightened.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but his lips claimed hers before a word left her tongue.

  His mouth was hot and moist against hers but soft and sensual. She realized with shock that he was wearing neither his mask nor his cloak.

  Curious to see if he would stop her, she raised a hand to touch his cheek, realizing only as she did that she still wore her riding gloves.

  His tongue pressed against her lips, demanding entrance, and she submitted at once, remembering the feelings he had stirred before when he had explored it so. Her body responded to his as it always did, and if she was aware of danger, it was only the danger of her own desire. She could not doubt for a moment that whatever he demanded of her she would do, but instead of frightening her, the thought sent a new flood of yearning through her. Stretching her arms around his neck while his hands moved over her body, exploring its curves, she recklessly pulled off her gloves and dropped them to the floor, determined to do some exploring of her own.

  He moaned softly, deep in his throat, and a hand moved to cup a breast, his fingers brushing its tip. The sensations he stirred made it difficult for her to think of anything else, but she wanted to touch him, too, to feel his bare skin beneath her fingertips. Accordingly, she raised a hand again to his cheek, sighing with satisfaction when she felt the prickling of a half-day’s growth of beard.

  His lips moved to her right cheek and then to her ear, and his tongue darted inside it, tickling. She grasped his chin and pulled it around so she could find his mouth with hers again, kissing him hungrily, pressing her body against his, knowing she was wantonly encouraging him to explore more of her.

  “I rode back to Ardintoul to see you again,” he murmured against her lips.

  “You did?”

  “Aye, but you’d already left to return to Dundreggan.”

  Her mouth was still against his. “Should I apologize?”

  Chuckling, he said, “This rig you’re wearing is a damnable thing.”

  “It was a very fashionable riding dress before the river soaked it.”

  “It’s dry now,” he said, “and too bad, too. I’d happily have offered to hang it to dry for you.”

  “What, and stand around freezing in this cave whilst we wait for it?”

  He chuckled. “We’d find ways of keeping warm. Indeed, I wonder if you know your danger, lass. Your virtue is presently at great risk.”

  “Is it?” she asked, affecting innocence.

  To her chagrin, he gripped her shoulders again. His deep voice sounded hoarse as he said, “You need a lesson, sweetheart, and you’d be well served if I taught it to you, but although I have the reputation of a villain, no one has accused me yet of raping innocent maidens, nor shall they. What I should do instead is put you across my knee and smack that pretty backside of yours till you shriek. What do you mean by following me after you promised to go straight home to Dundreggan?”

  “I never promised,” she said, but the words sounded hollow even to her. It was one thing to equivocate after Patrick issued an arbitrary order. She had always felt clever on occasions when she managed to avoid giving him a promise she knew she would not want to keep. But somehow, with the Fox, equivocation seemed childish. It was unworthy of her and unfair to him.

  He did not reply, which made her feel worse.

  She could think of nothing to say, and she wished they could just go back to kissing, but that interlude was clearly over.

  “Answer my question,” he prompted. His tone was stern.

  “The truth is that I rode out today a-purpose to find you,” she said quietly, abandoning pretense. “Giorsal, my woman, said she had heard that you were in the area. But whilst I was looking for you, I saw the sheriff’s men brutalizing that poor boy, and then you rescued me, but you were so angry…”

  She hesitated, unable to find words to describe all she had felt.

  “I never took you for a coward, lass.”

  “I’m not!” The words stung more than she had thought words could.

  “If you know of danger to someone in the glen, their need is all that should concern you. My anger should not have deterred you.”

  “But the need is mine,” she snapped, angry herself now.

  “All the g
reater reason,” he said.

  She drew a breath and let it out, hoping to soothe nerves that were suddenly raw. “I do not know how it is that you can make me so angry with so little effort,” she said. “Alex can do that, too. It’s the only thing you two have in common.”

  “Alex?”

  “Don’t be a daffy! Alex Chisholm, of course.”

  “D’ye no call him Sir Alex?”

  She wondered if he could possibly be jealous, but she would not allow him to divert her. “Do you want to know what I came to tell you,” she demanded, “or do you want to stand in the dark quibbling over stupid details?”

  “I expect ye’d like me to find a light.”

  “I certainly would not refuse one,” she said innocently. “With you standing between me and the entrance to this place, I can see absolutely nothing.”

  “We’ll do without the light,” he said. “Even if I could trust ye no to speak if ye were to see my features, lass—”

  “I would never give you away!” It occurred to her even as she exclaimed the words that his accent had grown more noticeable again.

  “I believe ye wouldna betray me intentionally,” he said gently. His knuckles brushed her cheek, sending enough heat through her veins to melt all her defenses.

  “I’d never tell anyone.” Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat.

  “Lass, I darena trust ye. If ye can speak the truth when ye tell Francis Dalcross’s men ye’ve never seen my face, they may believe ye. Even then, they may not, because they will want more than anything to believe that ye can lead them to me. But if Chisholm believes ye, he may be able to protect ye.”

  “Would he not protect me even if he did not believe me?” The thought that he might not was disconcerting. She had never considered the possibility.

  His tone altered to one she could not decipher as he said, “Chisholm has nae more use than Dalcross has for the Fox. Surely, ye’ve learned that much by now.”

  She did know that. She had not thought that his lordship’s opinion could affect her, but somehow, she did not feel it would improve her position to say that.