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“I can’t help it. I’m so worried about Jeannie, and I’m furious that I allowed Brown to trick us.”
“I’m the ninny that dropped the pistol, ye ken.”
“That wasn’t your fault. I’m just relieved that you weren’t hurt any worse.”
“It was just a wee knock on the head. After the twins, I’ve got the hardest noggin in the family.”
When Angus had tumbled off his horse, she’d been terrified he’d been shot either by Brown’s henchman or by the discharge of his own pistol. Thankfully, both shots had gone wide. He had a nasty bump and a small cut on his forehead but otherwise seemed unharmed.
Roger, the captain’s revolting accomplice, had made short work of tying up the old fellow and boosting him onto the back of Kathleen’s horse. She’d been tempted to see if she could give him a good kick as he was securing Angus behind her, but Brown had read her thoughts. He’d noted in a regretful tone that though he didn’t wish to shoot her, he would if she forced his hand.
They’d ridden across several fields into a stand of trees. Once through, they’d come upon a rocky terrain dotted with ravines and caves. Astoundingly, the cave the gang used for their bolthole was less than an hour’s ride from Lochnagar.
“I was quite proud of myself when I found it,” Brown had boasted with an irritating smirk. “It’s impossible to see, and yet so close to Dunlaggan. You all wondered how we escaped so easily after our escapades. This is the reason.”
Kathleen had glared at him. “Do you even own land in the Americas or was that all a lie, too?”
“I have the land, but it’s all swamp and jungle. Can’t clear it long enough to grow a bloody thing. I lost every shilling on the blasted venture, so I have to recoup my losses one way or the other, and this is it.”
His plan had been to find gullible investors, and also to dupe the villagers into buying worthless shares of land.
“But why the vandalism and the fire?” Kathleen had asked. “And why in God’s name did you tamper with the children’s punch at the fete? What purpose could be served by such vile acts?”
The captain had casually shrugged. “The more frightened the villagers were, the more likely they would be to buy shares. Many Scots are leaving for the Americas to start a new life, especially after the Clearances. If I made Dunlaggan unattractive to them, it might convince some to leave.”
“So you would rob them, and then leave them with nothing.” Kathleen had been tempted to spit at his feet. “You are a vile man, Captain Brown.”
“And ye’ll be gettin’ yer just desserts for tryin’ to hurt the bairns,” Angus had growled. “The Kendricks will see to that, ye slimy bastard.”
After that jolly exchange, Roger had forced them to climb down into the cave. After Brown had thrown the ladder after them, Kathleen had tried a final stab of talking sense into him—and keeping her sister safe from him.
“You’ve already stolen many valuable things, including my jewels,” she’d argued. “You should let us go and leave Dunlaggan while you can, since the Kendricks are now onto you. This is your final chance to escape.”
Brown had scowled down at her. “I have four other men to pay off, and I must also recoup my losses. Lady Kendrick’s pearls will do that and more. Your sister had best have them.”
At that point, Kathleen had lost her temper and started issuing dire threats, but the captain and Roger had simply disappeared from view.
Angus held up the whisky bottle he’d found in a crate of provisions. “Have a dram to take off the chill.”
Kathleen trudged over to join him on the blanket. “I suppose we should be grateful for the lanterns and the supplies.”
Angus handed over the bottle. “And the drink.”
After their captors had departed, they’d searched the cave. The hideout was well stocked. There were blankets and cords of wood, as well as lamps, candles, and crockery. Along with the whisky, they’d found hard biscuits and a round of cheese. They certainly wouldn’t expire from the cold or die from hunger or thirst. At least not for some time.
“How long have we been down here?” she asked.
Angus checked his pocket watch. “Maybe half an hour. I wasna keeping track, ye ken.”
“Blast. It feels like much longer.”
“It’s cause yer fretting about yer sister, and whether we’ll die down here.”
“Is that insight supposed to cheer me up?”
“Yer man would tear every hill down to the ground to find ye if he has to, lass. Dinna ye worry.”
She couldn’t help smiling at the notion of Grant asher man. She’d been clinging to his image since this nightmare began, using it as a bulwark against debilitating fear.
