Page 122 of Highland Spy

It was the beginning of the third day, if it could even be called “day,” as the sun had not yet risen. There hadn’t exactly been ample opportunities to slip him the drug, as most of their meals were taken quickly and in painful silence. Still, had there been a moment she could have dumped the contents into his drink, her conscience wouldn’t have allowed her to.

Not until the man was buried.

Whoever he was.

Ariana’s eyes were gritty with lack of sleep and a fog of exhaustion clouded her thoughts with a milky haze.

At least this time they hadn’t had the rain. The sun hung high above them now and lit the world around her in glowing emerald green. If her head did not ache so, she knew she would have found the effect beautiful.

As it was, the brilliance shattered in her mind like shards of light from a glinting gem.

Connor did not much care for those moments of sunshine either, and he’d urge the horses to move with more haste over the rugged terrain.

She expected their return to Urquhart had more to do with the man who had recognized Connor than the man they were burying.

While Connor hadn’t explained the reason they were coming back to Urquhart, he had on more than one occasion looked at her. Sometimes a quick glance, other times a long, contemplative stare.

She’d noted them all.

Though the silence between them was a cool salve she embraced, she needed information on what to expect when they arrived. Especially if she would need to hold off on her escape until they were no longer in possession of the body.

She regarded the plaid-covered shape on the cart once more, the outline beneath so distinctly human, the lack of movement so disconcertingly devoid of life.

The cart lurched over an unseen object and the body jerked with the rough-hewn wood structure before settling stiffly once more.

She looked at Connor and found his jaw clenched. He knew who was beneath the plaid.

He knew and he cared.

“Who was he?” Ariana asked.

She hadn’t been next to Connor when the man’s head had almost plunged from his body, but she’d been close enough to see the carnage. And to witness the hurt crack Connor’s stoic exterior.

“Ye’re talking to me now?” He didn’t look at her when he spoke.

“I don’t have to.” Ariana fixed her own gaze forward and stared out at where the grass was starting to warm into a more vibrant green on the path before them.

The silence settled over them again, but this time it did not feel like a cool balm. This time it was hot and tight and oppressive.

Her pulse simmered with a rebellious fire where all the pain—all the aching, soul-sucking pain she never wanted to acknowledge—curled into ash. If only it would blow away and leave her with nothing.

“I knew him,” Connor said, interrupting the torment of her own thoughts. “From Urquhart. His name was Renny, our blacksmith. I thought he was dead.” He frowned. “I mean, I thought he’d died that day when Urquhart fell. I thought they all had. Yet how could Renny have found me where I was? How could he be so far from Urquhart, unless he knew I was alive and sought me out?”

“Now you want to go back to see if anyone else lives?”

“If there are people still alive…” He focused on something unseen in the distance. “Then I abandoned them to pursue my own selfish endeavors.”

She wanted to console him, to offer her support to carry the weight of his burden. But to give her sympathy would be to open her heart, an act she could ill afford to do.

She reminded herself of the hurt he’d inflicted upon her when he’d rejected her. It was pressure against a fresh wound, and brought up the shield around her heart.

“What do you expect to find when we return?” she asked.

“I’m no’ sure.”

“If they are alive, what do you intend to do?”

“I’m no’ sure.”