Page 78 of Highland Spy

The cover of night was always the best cloak for killing.

With stomachs full of a hearty meal, Connor had set out with Ariana at his side. The sun had dropped away during their trek and a thick blanket of fog had spread over the land in a smoky film.

The manor was not far from the castle. It was a brisk walk of perhaps half an hour, but they didn’t have to worry after they tethered their horses. Horses weren’t discreet, especially ones belonging to a beggar and a whore.

Fortunately for them, the rain had ceased long before supper.

Together they crouched behind a thick bush with waxy green leaves. In addition to the fog, it offered a sufficient amount of coverage.

Connor’s heart thudded in a hard tempo low in the pit of his stomach. He’d brought his knife with him, though hopefully he wouldn’t have to use it. Of the men he’d killed, he’d had to slit very few throats. It was a messy death and absent the discretion King James insisted upon.

But in some cases, it couldn’t be helped.

Connor filled his lungs with a deep breath of cool air. The rich, moist scent of the earth underfoot blended with the faint aroma of something spiced roasting within the manor. The large stone tower was filled with life, and soon he would take one of those lives.

That knowledge twisted in his gut like a hot blade.

He let his gaze dart over the multiple guards positioned at various points throughout the manor wall. Not all were visible due to the heavy fog, but of those he could see, he knew the manor to be heavily fortified. He’d noticed as much earlier that day.

Getting inside would be difficult, but not impossible.

He found Ariana’s determined gaze in the shielded moonlight. “There are a lot of soldiers on guard,” he whispered.

She nodded and looked over the bush once more.

“I’m going to try to go in through one of the side windows. Ye’ll need to stand guard and offer distraction if needed.”

Again she nodded. She would have no issue distracting the men, Connor knew.

To avoid being recognized from when she’d been in town earlier, she’d left off the blonde wig and worn her own beautiful dark hair like a crown. Her servant’s attire had been easily modified with flimsy fabric and a few notches of her bodice left undone.

Connor pulled his gaze from Ariana.

It was time.

His mind screamed at him not to go and his limbs felt too heavy to push forward. The same reaction, every time. Regardless of what he knew of the person, no matter how corrupt or cruel they were.

Even this man, who put Cora’s security at risk.

It was another life he would be taking, another ghost to add to the collection surfacing in his nightmares.

Ariana looked at him with a blank expression and he knew she wondered at his delay.

Her suspicion was unwelcome.

He took another deep breath and slipped around the bushes without making a sound.

The blade was cumbersome where it was tucked against his belt.

God save him, using his blade was one of the worst options.

No, breaking the neck would be ideal. A sharp snap when the man least expected it. Connor flexed his hands in preparation for the vibration of the sickening crack he’d experienced more times than he cared to count.

An open window glowed at the side wall of the castle. A bit of a climb, but the stonework had given way in its age and the surface was uneven enough to grip. Another thing he’d noticed earlier.

His stomach tightened into a hard ball of ice.

Break the neck and then make the body tumble down the stairs.