Page 46 of Highland Spy

Ariana tilted her chin indignantly. “You asked me to find information on a nunnery. I went to the men you’d indicated and found they were indeed speaking of a woman trapped in a nunnery. Cuthbert was none other than the scribe who had drawn up her newly contracted marriage negotiation.”

Marriage negotiation.

The words punched him low in the gut.

The old nun he’d spoken to had mentioned MacAlister’s interest in marrying Cora.

Connor squeezed the reins in his hand until the leather strap pressed hard into his palms.

Perhaps it was true, then.

“I tried to get them to say the woman’s name,” Ariana continued. “They would not. I slipped Percy’s vial into Cuthbert’s drink, waited until he appeared drunk, then I lured him upstairs.” She gave Connor a long, considering stare before adding in a gentle voice, “I did everything I was trained to do.”

He shifted in his saddle, agitated by his own ire. She’d done what she was expected to—exactly the sort of thing Delilah and Sylvi did regularly.

“And what did ye find?” he asked.

Ariana reached into her bodice and pulled a folded square of parchment. “I believe it’s a marriage contract. I tried to read it, but the words kept blurring.”

Connor took the document from her. “Aye, the tincture Percy gave ye. We dinna expect ye’d be needing to read anything at a tavern.”

His heartbeat came faster, more desperate, with each section of the parchment he unfolded.

It was indeed a marriage contract.

His gaze fell to the two names and the tension bled out from his shoulders.

He didn’t recognize either name. Which meant the bride was not to be Cora.

Ariana watched him expectantly.

A whip of frustration lashed at him.

She’d put herself at risk for nothing.

He folded the page once more, following the original lines on the page, and tucked it into his own shirt.

Ariana still stared at him. “Was it what you needed?”

“It’s not common to find exactly what ye’re looking for on yer first mission.” He tried to keep his patience tethered, but knew from her wrinkled brow he had not succeeded.

The opaque mass of clouds in the distance flickered with the brilliant blue glow of lightning. The storm was coming.

Kindrochit Castle came into view, and they both hastened their horses.

“You’re disappointed.” She spoke over the churning roar of River Clunie.

Connor led the way over the stone bridge and turned slightly in his saddle to regard her. “Ye did everything as ye should have.”

The wary concentration on her face told him she didn’t believe him.

They entered the courtyard and made their way to the stable. Inside, the stable was blessedly free of the wind, and warm in the absence of the biting chill. The sweet scent of the rushes lining the stalls was oddly comforting after the stress of their time at the tavern.

They worked in silence together, caring for the horses and putting them in their stalls for the night.

His quiet rage, Connor knew, was directed at himself. For being distracted, for putting them both in danger, for letting himself feel too much for her.

“Should I have done something differently?” Ariana’s voice clattered into his thoughts.