MacInness must have combed the Highlands for the worst trained warriors available. Rob imagined his lowliest cotters armed with sticks could have held their own against these dullards.
A pitiful excuse for a fight, Rob thought as he bound his captive. He thought about chasing down the man who had escaped, but decided not to bother. That one was on foot and would require at least two days to make Craigmuir.
Besides, Mairi’s cousin needed to receive the message his minion would carry. What the MacBain claimed remained his own, and Mairi belonged to none other. Could Ranald resist such a taunt? Rob thought not. He would come after Mairi himself next time, but now would be at least three or four days behind them.
Satisfied that he had taken care of the problem for the duration of their journey to Baincroft, Rob hauled the bound man toward the horses, threw him aloft and tied him on.
He meant to have answers of this one. Rob would soon know the number and sort of men Mairi’s cousin commanded and whether he would pursue her all the way to the Midlothian.
The information he would gain should assist him in eventually deposing the treacherous cousin. He hoped Mairi would feel her father partly avenged by this night’s work.
“It’s Lord Rob!” Wee Andy called, waving his arm and hurrying around the fire to where Mairi stood. “You see? I told you he’d be back soon!”
She pulled her blanket closer against the night’s chill. “Who is that?” she asked, pointing at the body draped across the shaggy, unfamiliar mount her husband towed into camp.
“Your cousin’s man,” MacBain answered as he reined up before the fire. He dismounted and stretched, obviously weary.
“He only sent one?” she asked in disbelief.
“Five,” he said calmly, and turned away to drag his captive off the horse.
“Five? Where are the others? What happened? And how did ye know they—”
“My lady, please,” Wee Andy interrupted, stepping between her and MacBain. “There’s naught to be worried about. Leave off a moment and let’s see what we’ve got here, eh?”
Mairi blew out a breath of exasperation and desisted, though she could hardly contain herself.
With anxious eyes, she scanned the darkness of the tree line, wondering if at any moment the other four would emerge to wage a fight for their friend.
“Where are they?” she asked Andy. “What happened to them?”
“Dead, I expect,” he said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. “Or breaking a new road straight back to where they came from.”
“Rest now, Andy,” her husband ordered as he returned from where he’d laid his unconscious burden against a tree. To her, he said, “Go to sleep.”
“Sleep?” she all but screeched. “Ye ride in here, dragging one of those devils, say there are four more out there and expect me ta sleep?” Mairi threw up her hands. “Why, they could ride down on us at any moment! Or are they truly dead? Five against one and ye’d have me believe ye slew them all? If not, the least ye can do is tell me—”
He placed his fingertips to her mouth and impatiently shook his head. “You are safe.”
She shook off his hand. “Safe? And that is all ye say? Why do ye never answer me straightly, MacBain? Why do ye treat me like a stray bairn unworthy of regard? Ye might as well strike me as ignore me the way ye do. I despise that! I would know what transpired in the woods this night and why ye come back with only—”
“I ken nothing!” he said through gritted teeth. “Nothing you say!”
“Well I know that!” she shouted, leaning toward him, shaking one fist. “And do not wonder at it! Ye never listen to me! It’s as if I do not exist for ye half the time, and the other half—”
“Leave off, woman!” he thundered, drawing up to his full height, his fists clenched, causing the muscles in his arms to bunch. The flickering light from the campfire played over his features, lending them a menacing, otherworldly glow.
Fear greater than any she felt for Ranald’s hirelings skittered up her spine. Here was true danger and all too immediate. He looked fit to strike her down.
Silently, Mairi backed away from him, gripping her trembling hands together, sorely afraid she had tread too far. Never before had he exhibited real anger toward her. But she had seen the effect of his rage at Craigmuir during that battle with Ranald’s men.
Wives held no immunity from the ire of their husbands and she had certainly courted MacBain’s with her loud demands just now. Righteous, she might be, but she should not have shouted at him.
Neither should she have refused to sleep beside him earlier, but she had not wanted to grant him forgiveness all that quickly for hauling her away from Craigmuir as roughly as he had done. To admit to him how profoundly he affected her would surely have given her husband the upper hand.
Which he certainly had now anyway.
Without another word she quickly retreated to her blanket, lay down upon the grass and turned her back to him. She would not be able to sleep, but she would pretend for all she was worth. Hopefully by morn, his surly mood would have improved. If the other four men Ranald had sent after them did not slay them all before then.
Silence reigned in the clearing behind her, which seemed odd. Why was he not telling Wee Andy what had happened? Or making plans in the event they sustained an attack? Surely he would not ride in that way and simply lie down and fall asleep! But she dared not turn over to see for herself.
Mairi closed her eyes as tightly as she could and prayed she would be alive to open them come the morn.
A pelting rain woke her soon after daybreak. Though the ground beneath her felt relatively dry, the covering above her, supported by a framework of branches, did leak a bit. She brushed the droplets off her hair and face.
How had he managed to build that thing right over her without her waking?
Mairi raised herself to her elbows and peered out into the soggy morning.
Across the clearing, Wee Andy lay beneath a makeshift tent much like her own. She spied the hindquarters of the gray MacBain rode disappearing into the trees.
“Wait!” she cried, quickly crawling out of her cover and dashing after him. “Dinna leave us! Where is it ye go?”
Before she could get halfway to the tree line, he had disappeared.
“Gone back to bury them what he killed,” Wee Andy called, “and see what he can find amongst their packs.”
Mairi released a pent-up breath. For a moment she feared he had gone on without them, then realized he was headed in the wrong direction for that.
Besides, he would not have left his man behind. Now she was a different matter. After the way she had railed at him last night, she admitted she wouldn’t much blame him.
The rain was letting up, but she was already wet. Hopefully, the sun would be out soon to dry her clothes and hair. Bedraggled
