But, rather surprisingly, she hadn’t. Instead, she’d made a sound rather like the purr of a contented kitten. Gradually, she made that sound again as she capitulated and lost her rigid posture tofinallylet herself slump against him.
Rory bit back a grin. Perhaps she wasn’t so immune to him.
…
Neal cursed and pulled his plaid farther over his head. The sleet pellets were sharp as knives, and the blowing snow made it hard to see more than a few feet ahead.
“Mayhap we should turn back,” Jamie said.
It was lucky for his second-in-command that they were all bundled in layers, or else he would have tackled the man and trounced him thoroughly. Since he had no wish to expose flesh to the weather, he merely glowered at him.
“Nae.”
“The storm is worsening,” another said. “’Tis getting harder to see the road.”
“Aye,” a third chimed in. “’Twould be easy to lose our way—”
“We keep on going!” Neal bellowed. “MacGregor has my woman!”
That silenced his men, although a moment later he realized it was because they were all looking at him speculatively. None seemed particularly daunted by his outburst, but then, most were used to his temper. Still, he didn’t want a rebellion on his hands, since he’d need his men to handle MacGregor when they caught up. All the MacGregors were fighters, but Rory harbored a personal vendetta against him because of the MacFarlane slut.
“They canna be far ahead,” he said to pacify them. “When we reach them, ye make quick work of MacGregor and we hie away with my bride. We’ll be back at Spean by nightfall. The whisky will be on me.” That proclamation drew no response, either, other than silent looks. He reined in. “What? Ye might as well speak up.”
“We canna be sure they are ahead,” one man said as they all stopped.
“They dinna turn back,” Neal retorted. “They’d have met us.”
“We ken they had at least an hour head start,” another said.
“Which means they canna be far ahead.” Neal sighed hard. The fact should be obvious. “The Sassenach is nae a good rider. She will slow them down.”
“We have nae seen tracks.”
Neal glared at him. “With the wind blowing and the snow swirling, we canna see our own horses’ tracks, ye eejit.”
“Aye,” the first man replied, “which means they could verra well have gone off the road and gotten lost.”
“Lost? Are ye forgetting that MacGregor managed to track us all the way to the MacLean? The road follows the loch. He willna be daft enough to leave it.”
“The loch…” The man paused.
Neal frowned. “Aye, we’ve kept it in sight. What of it?”
The man hesitated. “Well, I saw a packet boat pass by earlier. Is it possible MacGregor decided to take passage on it and nae attempt the road at all?”
Neal cursed roundly in Gaelic and then again in English. It certainly made sense, since they had not caught up with the pair and by now, they should have. He’d been a fool not to think of that, although by the time they’d have gotten to the landing, the ship would already have sailed.
He clenched his jaw and contemplated. Under good conditions, the packet would already have arrived at the Invergarry, but given the strong winds and choppy sea, they’d have had to take down sail, which meant they would still be on the water.
“We need to catch them when they land and before they get to the castle.” He lifted the reins and nudged his horse forward. In a moment, his men fell in behind. “Drowning MacGregor is as easy as any way to kill him. Then we take the wench, board the packet, and sail back without the MacDonnells ever being the wiser that they were to have guests.” He looked at his men. “A fine plan, eh? And a dry ride home.”
A few chuckles ensued as they moved on, but Neal’s good humor faded when they got to the landing. Sailors were dropping anchor in the loch, well away from the dock, and no one else was to be seen.
“They must have just come in. We may still overtake them on the way to the castle.”
“Aye.” Neal spurred his horse to a canter, not caring how rutted the trail might be. This was their last chance to make quick work of the situation. But it was too late.
He drew his lathered mount to a stop behind a copse of trees as two horses with four riders went over the drawbridge, and then he watched as the gate closed behind them.
