Five hours rest had revived Phoebe and her horse. She buckled the billets on the animal's saddle when a prickling sense of familiarity caused her to pause in the dim light of the stall. She grasped the stirrup and laid it quietly against the horse's belly, then crept to the stall door. She peeked out into the darkness, searching one side of the stable, then the other. She discerned no movement and ducked back into the stall, pausing to listen. All remained quiet.
Skulking about in the night made one suspicious. Unfortunately, she had learned long ago that she was the suspicious sort. She turned back to the horse. The fact that the inn stood within sight of the stables didn’t help. A guilty conscious, she thought, remembering the kind Mrs. MacKenzie. Again, she wondered if leaving in the middle of the night wouldn’t be more memorable, than allowing the good housekeeper to send an escort from whom she would be forced to escape. Phoebe started toward the lamp that hung on the inside wall of the stable, but whirled abruptly. That had definitely been a sound. She placed a hand on the gelding’s nose and edged past him to the door. She looked out but, again, not so much as a piece of straw stirred. She stepped out and groped along the stalls to the stable doors.
The door was still ajar as she's left it when she entered and Phoebe leaned forward to peer around the edge. She froze. Outside in the pre-dawn shadows, at the very end of the stables, stood a man. His profile faced her, and he was deep in quiet conversation with someone who remained out of view on the other side of the stables.
The sense of familiarity she had experienced earlier returned. The man's features were indiscernible and his build wasn't out of the ordinary. He lifted his arm and placed a palm against the edge of the barn, leaning into the building. Phoebe's pulse jumped. It couldn’t be. Her mind flashed back to the day when Alan Hay had arrived at the Green Lady Inn, and that night when Robbie held her at gunpoint in the barn. This time, the outline of a short hanger hunting sword protruding from his waistband was unmistakable.
The Highland map she had consulted before leaving Brahan Seer came to mind. By heavens, she had paid the districts no mind when she consulted the map, caring only for the location of Tain. Her brain hadn’t registered the fact that the Sutherland district lay just above Tain.
Robbie’s hand dropped away from the building. He stepped forward and she lost sight of him behind the stable. She waited to the count of three, then pushed the door open another few inches and stole from the stable. She crept to the edge of the building. There came the soft nicker of a horse. She halted at discerning the faint murmur of voices, then hurried to the far end the building. Phoebe peeked around the corner. Robbie stood, hand on the saddle pummel, ready to mount his horse. The other man, while talking in a whisper she couldn’t distinguish, was obviously agitated.
Robbie shook his head and mounted. The man grabbed Robbie’s arm. Robbie pulled back on the reins and the horse whirled, forcing the man back. Robbie didn’t look back, but continued alongside the stables. The man took a step in Robbie’s direction. Phoebe drew back and hurried back toward the stable door. She slipped inside and watched. The man appeared from around the stable an instant later and quickly passed from view. Phoebe peeked around the corner of the door and saw he was headed toward the inn.
“You never know who you might meet traveling in these parts,” Mrs. MacKenzie had said.
What better person to see criminals on their way than a kindly old innkeeper’s wife? Phoebe wondered. She hurried to her horse. She had been convinced she would find some connection between her father and Kiernan MacGregor, but hadn't been able to figure out what that connection might be. Seeing Robbie Hay here was too fantastical to be coincidence. There was no doubt that he would lead her to her husband. Lord Ashlund was, indeed, aiding criminals.
Her heart jumped. What if the recognition she'd glimpsed in Kiernan's eyes when she'd talked about her father was more than mere recognition of his name? What if it was also the knowledge that his future father-in-law was a man who would see him hanged for treason given the chance? She'd often wondered how her father had occupied himself all these years. Despite the deceit by the men who had made him an outlaw, he loved his country. He had remained in contact with Alistair. Could that mean he had somehow continued to serve his country? Her excitement took a dive. If true, could that account for Kiernan's unwavering determination to marry her? What better way to control her father than by controlling her?
Phoebe wasn't surprised when Robbie headed north. She was surprised, however, when instead of heading east toward Tain, he continued north of the channel, then veered east into Dornoth Firth.