Thomas’s face, whereupon Thomas sagged in Neil’s arms and the lad dumped him unceremoniously to the ground. Pulling a skeanochil from his boot, Fergus turned toward Calder.
Instantly discerning his intent, Diana snapped, “No! Don’t kill him. Stop him,” she added urgently, clutching Allan Breck’s arm.
Allan checked Fergus with a gesture but scowled at Diana and said in Gaelic, “I do not like leaving witnesses, lass. Certainly not Campbell witnesses.”
“Tie and gag him,” Diana said to Fergus in the same language. Then, to her brother, she said, “Do the same to Thomas, and make sure neither can free himself quickly.” Knowing that Neil would obey but uncertain of Fergus, she turned back to Allan, saying insistently, “You must not kill them. Calder is close kin to Argyll, and the duke’s men would punish every family in Appin to avenge his death. You were in France when the Duke of Cumberland wreaked havoc here after Culloden, but I remember how it was, and I don’t want it to happen again if I can prevent it.”
“She is right,” Bardie Gillonie said in his gravelly voice as he slid down the hillside behind them. He, too, spoke the Gaelic. “No reason to bring the whole lot of them down on us. Speaking of Campbells,” he added, glancing back anxiously over one shoulder as his feet hit the path, “I heard a whistle just now.”
Diana saw with approval that Bardie kept out of Calder’s line of sight. His lordship would remember her all too well, but he could not have seen Bardie before the attack, and she doubted that even Thomas, now stirring awkwardly in his bonds, had seen enough to realize how easily the dwarf could be identified. Sliding on his backside Bardie had looked almost normal, albeit shorter than most men, but on his feet, his deformity was obvious. With stunted legs too short to carry his large torso easily, his gait was lurching and ungainly.
He grinned at her, revealing surprisingly white, even teeth. She had always thought his smile his best feature, but running a close second were the richly dark, expressive eyes set deep beneath shaggy dark brows in his overlarge head. He had a big bony nose and chin, huge hands, and amazingly muscular shoulders. Presently wearing a leather waistcoat and breeches, he was clean shaven and wore his dark hair tied back, as always, in a black bag at the nape of his short, thick neck.
“Expected you last night, lass,” he said. “We had the devil’s own time of it, keeping out of sight of Patrick Campbell’s louts, though in fairness, there was little danger of them catching us. Never saw such a bunch of blind beggars in all my life. Must have prowled under our trees all of fifty times these two nights past. Grew downright wearisome till they went to bed and let us get some sleep.”
“I could not get away before,” Diana said. “They have strict rules about when females can go out. I tried to leave at once, of course, but the ferryman would not bring me across. He said Patrick Campbell would have his head for it.”
Bardie frowned. “But that ferryman is a Bethune of Craignure, is he not?”
Neil said, “He is.” He looked at Diana. “Did you tell him who you are?”
It occurred to her that they all had assumed neither of their captives spoke Gaelic, and she realized in a rush of alarm that such an assumption might prove disastrous. “We had better go,” she said, shooting a look at her cousin.
He nodded, glancing at the captives with a speculative expression that showed he had instantly understood her caution. “Are they well tied?”
“Aye,” Neil and Fergus said as one.
“Drag them into the shrubbery then, and be quick about it,” Allan said. He cocked his head, listening. “Another whistle. They are coming this way. Bring that other horse,” he said to Diana as he snatched up the reins of Calder’s gray. ‘She saw then that Fergus had blindfolded his lordship, and felt some relief, hoping he had not seen any of
Instantly discerning his intent, Diana snapped, “No! Don’t kill him. Stop him,” she added urgently, clutching Allan Breck’s arm.
Allan checked Fergus with a gesture but scowled at Diana and said in Gaelic, “I do not like leaving witnesses, lass. Certainly not Campbell witnesses.”
“Tie and gag him,” Diana said to Fergus in the same language. Then, to her brother, she said, “Do the same to Thomas, and make sure neither can free himself quickly.” Knowing that Neil would obey but uncertain of Fergus, she turned back to Allan, saying insistently, “You must not kill them. Calder is close kin to Argyll, and the duke’s men would punish every family in Appin to avenge his death. You were in France when the Duke of Cumberland wreaked havoc here after Culloden, but I remember how it was, and I don’t want it to happen again if I can prevent it.”
“She is right,” Bardie Gillonie said in his gravelly voice as he slid down the hillside behind them. He, too, spoke the Gaelic. “No reason to bring the whole lot of them down on us. Speaking of Campbells,” he added, glancing back anxiously over one shoulder as his feet hit the path, “I heard a whistle just now.”
Diana saw with approval that Bardie kept out of Calder’s line of sight. His lordship would remember her all too well, but he could not have seen Bardie before the attack, and she doubted that even Thomas, now stirring awkwardly in his bonds, had seen enough to realize how easily the dwarf could be identified. Sliding on his backside Bardie had looked almost normal, albeit shorter than most men, but on his feet, his deformity was obvious. With stunted legs too short to carry his large torso easily, his gait was lurching and ungainly.
He grinned at her, revealing surprisingly white, even teeth. She had always thought his smile his best feature, but running a close second were the richly dark, expressive eyes set deep beneath shaggy dark brows in his overlarge head. He had a big bony nose and chin, huge hands, and amazingly muscular shoulders. Presently wearing a leather waistcoat and breeches, he was clean shaven and wore his dark hair tied back, as always, in a black bag at the nape of his short, thick neck.
“Expected you last night, lass,” he said. “We had the devil’s own time of it, keeping out of sight of Patrick Campbell’s louts, though in fairness, there was little danger of them catching us. Never saw such a bunch of blind beggars in all my life. Must have prowled under our trees all of fifty times these two nights past. Grew downright wearisome till they went to bed and let us get some sleep.”
“I could not get away before,” Diana said. “They have strict rules about when females can go out. I tried to leave at once, of course, but the ferryman would not bring me across. He said Patrick Campbell would have his head for it.”
Bardie frowned. “But that ferryman is a Bethune of Craignure, is he not?”
Neil said, “He is.” He looked at Diana. “Did you tell him who you are?”
It occurred to her that they all had assumed neither of their captives spoke Gaelic, and she realized in a rush of alarm that such an assumption might prove disastrous. “We had better go,” she said, shooting a look at her cousin.
He nodded, glancing at the captives with a speculative expression that showed he had instantly understood her caution. “Are they well tied?”
“Aye,” Neil and Fergus said as one.
“Drag them into the shrubbery then, and be quick about it,” Allan said. He cocked his head, listening. “Another whistle. They are coming this way. Bring that other horse,” he said to Diana as he snatched up the reins of Calder’s gray. ‘She saw then that Fergus had blindfolded his lordship, and felt some relief, hoping he had not seen any of
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