“Thank ye,”she said simply. “For comin’. For… understandin’.”
For the space of a heartbeat,they were not laird and rescued prisoner, but simply two people who had glimpsed each other’s wounds. It was a fragile thread of connection, but it was enough. For now.
“Rest well, Gabriella,”he said, his voice rough.
As he closedthe door behind him, Hector found himself lingering, listening until her breathing slowed into the rhythm of sleep. Only then did he return to his chamber, the name “Lewis” burning in his mind like a brand.
Dawn brokethrough the narrow windows of the war room, casting long shadows across the ancient oak table where Hector had gathered his most trusted men. Maps and parchment lay spread before them, weighted down with daggers and goblets.
Noah stoodat Hector’s right, while Duncan, his master-at-arms, and Malcolm, his chief scout, stood on the other side.
“What do we ken for certain?”Hector asked, tracing his finger along the map that showed the territories surrounding his lands.
“Four organizers,”Noah began. “Two were captured, and two escaped—this Lewis the lass spoke of.” He marked the locationswith small stones. “All we’ve learned is that they’ve organized three hunts over the past year.”
“Three,”Hector repeated, disgust coloring his voice. “How many women before these four?”
Malcolm cleared his throat.“According to the prisoners, six at the first hunt, eight at the second.”
“Eighteen women.”Hector’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the table. “Eighteen lasses hunted like animals on me own lands.”
“Ye cannae blame yerself, Me Laird,”Duncan said. “Ye acted as soon as ye heard of it.”
Hector wasn’t consoled.“Nae soon enough for those first fourteen.” He straightened, pushing his dark thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand. “Where would this Lewis run to? He must have a bolt-hole.”
Malcolm studied the map.“A name was mentioned. A tavern where they’d meet before the hunts.The Spotted Hare, near Inverness.”
“I ken it,”Noah said. “Rough establishment, changed hands about a year ago.”
Hector’s head snapped up.“A year ago? At the same time these hunts began?”
Noah nodded.“Perhaps the bastard owns the tavern.”
“Malcolm, take four men to Inverness,”Hector instructed. “Watch the tavern, but dinnae approach. If this Lewis is the ringleader, I want him brought here to answer for his crimes.”
“Aye, Me Laird.”Malcolm rolled up one of the maps. “We’ll leave at midday.”
“Duncan,double the patrols along the borders,” Hector added. “If he attempts to return for any reason, I want him caught.” Then, his eyes narrowed. “Did ye hear talk of any future hunts planned?”
“Aye,”Duncan replied. “The men we caught spoke of preparations for a fourth, larger hunt at the next full moon. More lasses, more payin’ hunters.”
“Then we have two weeks,”Hector said, a cold smile forming on his lips. “If we havenae found Lewis by then, we’ll be waitin’ at that hunt. He’d nae miss the chance for more coin.”
“A trap,”Noah agreed, nodding in approval.
That evening at supper,Hector found himself facing the curious gazes of his mother and sister across the high table.
“Well?”his mother, Andrea Muir, finally asked, setting down her goblet. “Are ye going to tell us about this mysterious woman ye’ve brought into our home?”
Hector pushed down his annoyance.He should have known that Mistress Agnes would waste no time informing his mother.
“Her name is Gabriella.She was held captive by the men runnin’ the hunts I’ve been investigatin’.”
His mother’s face paled.“The poor lass. Is she badly hurt?”
“She’s been mistreated, starved,”Hector replied, his voice tight. “But she’s strong. Stronger than most men I ken, to have survived what she did.”
“And ye’ve puther in the east wing?” Andrea asked, her gaze narrowing. “Rather close to yer chambers, is it nae?”
