Page 135 of Highland Spy

Words meant to soothe only incensed. Sorrow went molten in Connor’s veins, transforming into something he could more readily accept—anger.

“There’s no’ anything ye can do to make it right,” Connor hissed. “Ye canna’ ever bring back my da.”

Kenneth shook his head, not even attempting to argue with what Connor had stated.

They both knew it was pointless.

Connor’s deep, slow inhale trembled slightly under the weight of his rage.

He should kill Kenneth now.

End it while possible, while rage controlled all thought and action.

Connor closed his hand around the hilt of his dirk, but Kenneth did not move. Connor slid the blade from its sheath, but still Kenneth did not budge.

“Will ye hide behind yer guards?” Connor snarled.

“I’ll hide behind no one and I’ll no’ defend myself against actions for which there is no forgiveness.” Resignation dropped Kenneth’s head lower and Connor knew his words to be true.

He’d confessed to having been wrong.

The rush of anger went still within Connor and left him drifting through what remained.

He stared at his friend for a long moment before letting the blade slip back into its sheath. Kenneth’s shoulders did not slump in relief as most men’s might. It was then Connor realized Kenneth had truly anticipated death.

And he had readily accepted his fate.

He raised his eyes without lifting his head. “There is much I would like to discuss with ye, Connor. Much I never thought I’d have a chance to say.”

A flurry of activity below caught Connor’s attention. The flash of a green dress. His stomach sank when he realized the location from which the disturbance had arisen.

The side of the room.

The card tables.

A small cluster of people had stopped and turned toward the table, observing it as one might a London play. His gaze settled on the brilliant green dress. Ariana was standing with several well-groomed Englishmen already before her and another behind her.

Connor muttered a curse under his breath. Five minutes he’d left her alone, and she’d made her way to the card tables. His irritation at her decision to leave grated through him. If she didn’t last five minutes here, how the hell did she plan to survive on her own?

“Do ye know them?” Kenneth asked.

“I know her.” It was all Connor had gotten out when one of the men reached out and grabbed Ariana’s wrist.

All thought fled his mind and his body launched into action, propelling him through the crowd, away from Kenneth, and toward the men who sought to harm Ariana.

Chapter 33

Ariana’s wrist was caught in a viselike grip. The man’s face was familiar. She’d seen him once at court, but her memory was little more than fractured thoughts and unfulfilled plans to escape.

“I asked if you were cheating, girl,” the man snarled. His wig was set too far back and made his forehead seem to stop halfway over the top of his skull.

She could attack him. She could grab the wig and then rush at him when he was surprised at her assault.

The man’s front teeth clamped flush together and his lips pulled back. “Answer me.”

It would be an ideal way to escape were there not so many people watching.

The attack would be anything but discreet. And if she recognized one man, there would be others. Her name had remained untarnished thus far. She could not afford to—