"Are you sure this isn't going to be a disaster?" he murmured, low in her ear. And she could sense his gaze was fastened not on the stable so near, but rather on the silhouette of Misthaven House on the edge of the hill. "What if someone sees me?"
"If you do as I tell you, no one will. The servants are far too preoccupied with their own work. And Hugh will be locked up in his study or off somewhere tending his precious business interests. There's not the slightest bit of danger."
What was it the priest had said about not daring fate? At that instant, a voice echoed from inside the stables, and hurried footsteps stalked toward the door. "Fallon? Fallon, is that you?"
Hugh! Her stomach dropped, sweat breaking out on her upper lip. What the devil was he doing in the stable at this hour?
She started to shove at Ciaran, warn him to dismount, hide. He'd already sprung from the horse's back with a warrior's instincts. Fallon glimpsed a blur of pale flesh and sinew against the darkness as he dove for the shelter of a hayrick, but it was too late to escape. Hugh stood in the rectangle of the stable door, garbed from head to toe in black as if he were going to a funeral.
Unfortunately, all things considered, it might be Fallon's own. She scrambled to find some explanation as her brother stalked toward her, his usually calm face more thunderous than any of the clouds scudding in from the west. But she was fresh out of good reasons for dragging a half-naked man home as if he were a stray puppy she'd found.
"I know this seems odd—" she stammered, "but—"
"Blast it, Fallon, it is you, isn't it?" He stepped closer. "I can't see in this benighted dark. Why the devil doesn't Sheehan light a torch or two?"
Fallon sucked in a breath of bone-shattering relief, blessing the head groom for his negligence. Hugh was still blinded, coming from light to darkness. By some miracle, he hadn't seen Ciaran.
Now the trick was to make certain her brother remained ignorant of Ciaran's presence. Desperate to put some distance between Ciaran and herself, Fallon prodded Cuchulain toward Hugh with feigned nonchalance, trying to hide the fact that her heart was in her throat.
"Lovely evening, Hugh," she said, closing the distance. "What are you doing in the stables at this hour? Surely you can't be going out to count your sheep in the dark."
She wanted to taunt him just a little. If he were irritated at her, he'd be less likely to glance around and see something they'd both regret.
Hugh tugged the collar of his riding coat. "There is trouble out at MacDuggan's Quay. With the storm coming, a shipment is in danger."
"Heaven forfend."
Hugh's mouth tightened in a thin white line. "I prefer my sailors on their decks, rather than at the bottom of the ocean. So do their families."
Fallon had the grace to be a trifle ashamed, but she wasn't about to let Hugh know it. His tone was insufferable, as if she were a naughty child in need of punishment. It only got worse as he continued.
"When I reached the stables and learned that you'd gone out, I was going to ride in search."
Ridiculous notion! The last thing she needed was Hugh trailing after her. It wasn't as if he'd have the slightest chance of finding her! The familiar impatience flared, tinged with shame for her brother. Damn Hugh anyway!
She gritted her teeth, excruciatingly aware of Ciaran hiding behind the hayrick, knowing that the man was listening to the conversation. It made her squirm inside, left her feeling oddly naked. She sought shelter in belligerence.
"You were going in search of me? How strange. I'm amazed you even noticed I was gone. After all, it's not Christmas or my birthday."
Hugh flinched, a heaviness seeming to bow his shoulders. "I know I haven't always done right by you, Fallon but I was worried. Especially when I heard you were out riding alone at night. The garrison has posted more patrols ever since that Captain Redmayne arrived."
Fallon stifled a shudder at the man's name, and gave a light laugh. "I'll remember to avoid him whenever I'm plotting treason."
"It's not a jest, Fallon. This whole coast has been seething since the rebellion was put down. Desperate men are on the run from the law, angry men who might hurt you if you saw something they wanted to hide. And that new garrison captain will only make things worse. There's something about him that sets my nerves on edge. He's dangerous. And you're not a child anymore, to run wild around the countryside. Something could happen to you."
Fallon rolled her eyes. "I've met Captain Redmayne. I hardly think he is the sort who would hurl me down on the heath and have his wicked way with me." But her attempt at humor fell flat as she recalled the way the Englishman had watched her, like a tiger with its prey. Perhaps Redmayne wouldn't fling her onto the ground to take his pleasure, but he was obviously a man given to more complex, subtle tortures.
She slid down from Cuchulain and slipped the reins over the stallion's head. "Now, Hugh, if you'll excuse me?"
Her brother stepped in front of her, looming tall and lean, with a quiet intensity. Sometimes it seemed impossible that the same blood flowed through their veins. "Fallon, you can't spend the rest of your life running about the heath. It's time you leave off wild ways. You're twenty-two. A woman."
"You've noticed? Why the sudden interest, brother? Nothing more important to occupy the master of Misthaven's thoughts tonight? No dips in the price of new lambs to fret over?"
She was hurting him. She could sense it in the tightening of Hugh's shoulders, the way his lids lowered to hide his eyes—eyes the color Mama's had been. But she had to get Hugh to leave her in peace. She had to get Ciaran safely into Misthaven House. The longer Ciaran was outdoors, the more danger that he would be discovered.
She couldn't keep the scorn from dripping into her voice. "I've done well enough without your interference in my life thus far, Hugh. I get along fine. You tend to your business dealings, while I—"
"While you what? Wander around the heath barefoot, your hair straggling down like a shepherdess's?"
