Page 56 of Highland Spy

He stared intently into the hearth, where molten red with black bits of bark crusted along the glowing surfaces of the logs. “Where the hell were you?”

Ariana pulled in a steadying breath, one she hoped was discreet enough to not be heard. “I went to one of the nearby villages.”

Connor tilted his head slightly and angled his gaze on her. “And who did you go with?”

She squared her shoulders the way she’d seen Sylvi do. But it did not strengthen Ariana’s resolve—she knew she’d done wrong. “Alone.”

Again his forefinger tapped.

Silence settled between them, as cold and as dark as the shadows untouched by the meager fire.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Ariana tried to swallow again, but her throat was too dry. “I found the information you were looking for.”

Her breath came faster with anticipation. He would hear her news and forgive her.

“I already have the information I need,” he said.

The firm set of muscles between Ariana’s shoulder blades slackened. “What?”

“Murdoch came here tonight and told me MacAlister would be at Loch Manor in the next several days.”

The heady elation of her victory deflated from her chest in a slow exhale.

“I saw Murdoch,” she conceded. “And wondered if he’d managed to track Angus MacAlister there.”

“Ye were in the same village?”

Ariana nodded. “I went into the same tavern and saw him talking to MacAlister. I don’t think he recognized me, though. And I didn’t know the man was MacAlister until his wife told me.”

“MacAlister’s wife?” Connor’s jaw flexed. “He’s married then,” he muttered to himself. He drew in a long, slow breath. “Ye shouldna have gone by yerself. And ye shouldna be following Murdoch around. Ye could ruin all his work by interfering—”

“I only followed him into the tavern. I did not interfere,” Ariana said in a hard tone. A flame of anger flickered to life inside her.

“It was dangerous to go alone. Sylvi doesna even go alone.”

“I was careful.” Ariana’s hand moved to her pocket where she’d placed the round vial, for reassurance. And met nothing but fabric.

Her thoughts scattered for a distracted moment, torn between the sudden fear of having lost the vial and her frustration at the current conversation.

She pressed her dress between her palm and her thigh, confirming the vial’s absence.

“Are ye listening to me?” Connor put a hand on her shoulder and she almost snatched her hand from her dress. “It doesna matter how careful ye are, Ariana. Murdoch wouldna have been able to help. He didna even notice ye. If he had, I know he would have mentioned it when I told him ye were missing.”

“MacAlister’s wife offered me a position as her lady’s maid.” She threw the words at him like she was presenting a winning poker hand. “We have an opportunity to arrive on invitation and get the information we need.”

A line showed across Connor’s brow. “We dinna need such an opportunity. I need ye to do as ye’re told.”

“To do as I’m told.” Her cheeks blazed with indignation. She stepped back, freeing her shoulder from the weight of his resting hand. “I’ve always done as I’m told,” she continued, her voice as low and quiet as Connor’s had been when she first entered the room.

He took a step toward her, but she put up her hand.

“I did as my parents bade and it ended in one failed marriage attempt after another.” Her body trembled inside with the force of her admission, with the heat of all the pent-up rage now cracking the facade she’d hid it behind for so many years.