"Why?"
"If you are caught, the jig is up. We will do as you said and go early. Only you cannot go all the way to Glasgow alone. Peter will go with you."
"Peter?" Elise's heart thumped. "I won't risk another person's life."
Winnie's face softened. "Peter is no green boy. He's my niece's cousin, a seasoned fighter and a crack shot. And," Winnie paused for emphasis, "he knows nothing of Marcus's, er, desire for you to stay." Elise hesitated, and Winnie added, "He would have returned home anyway. Glasgow is not far out of his way. Trust me, he can get you there safely."
Elise nodded, despite the knot in her throat. God help her if she miscalculated again.
Chapter Eight
Marcus stared at the warrior standing before him in the great hall. The anticipation he had felt only an hour ago had given way to a throbbing in his head that threatened to incite him to violence. "You found her buying a ticket for an Australian-bound packet?" he managed in an even voice.
"Nay, laird," the warrior replied.
"Ah," Marcus said, "I forget, you intercepted her at the pawnbroker's shop."
"Not in the shop, exactly," he hedged.
Marcus glanced at his father, who sat in his chair sipping ale as though they were discussing nothing more important than the weather. Marcus looked back at the warrior. "Where, then?"
"She, er, had left the pawnbroker—you see, Daniel reasoned we couldna' just go inside and take her. She would bring all of Glasgow down upon us."
"Indeed," Marcus murmured.
"She near did—or would have, had we not dragged her into the alley."
"Dragged her into an alley, you say? This alley was deserted then, a place you could have done with her as you wished?"
The man swallowed. "Aye."
"Angry, was she?" Marcus realized he had clenched his hand into a fist.
The man looked sheepish. "You can't blame the lass, she thought—"
"Aye," Marcus interrupted savagely, "I know what she thought. The little fool is damned lucky that isn't what happened. You are certain no Campbell accosted her?"
"Not so much as a scrap of Campbell plaide was found between here and Glasgow."
"How far behind were Elise and Daniel when you left them?"
"They were riding fast—not so fast she couldn't keep up," the man added quickly, "but I rode harder. I left them at early light."
"By all rights, they should be arriving anytime," Marcus calculated.
"Aye," the warrior agreed.
Marcus jerked his head toward the postern door in an indication the man should leave, and he hurried from the great hall. Marcus faced his father. "What the bloody hell was she selling—and Australia? I thought Winnie said she was bound for America."
"'Tis strange," Cameron agreed.
"If anything has happened to her…"
Cameron's gaze remained steady. "Ye heard what John said. She is well." He motioned to the seat beside him. "Sit, have an ale, and wait."
"By God, she had three days head start." Marcus slammed a fist down on the table. "Anything could have happened."
"Not three, less than two. 'Tis been three days since she left. I can see how you would confuse the time, but our lads took after her night before last. Elise and Peter's tracks indicated they rode slow, and our men rode fast. Did you not comprehend John's report?" Marcus opened his mouth to retort, but Cameron added, "Our men lagged but two hours behind them yesterday afternoon. I sent more men to meet them. They are on their way home and willna' dare dally."
"How could you have let her go?"
"I didn't let her go." Cameron regarded him. "You plan on making her a prisoner?"
"Would you have her alone on that ship?" Marcus demanded.
His father's mouth thinned. "We should beat them both." He glanced in the direction of the kitchen where Winnie worked.
"Aye," Marcus said, agreeing with his father for the first time since he'd returned home an hour ago. "Beat her, I will. If I don't get the chance, I will take it out of your hide, Father."
Cameron took a large swig of the ale sitting before him, then set the mug on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "The lads will return with her soon."
Marcus shot his father another unforgiving look. "So you have said a dozen times the past hour."
His father's expression hardened. "I realize you are upset, lad, but you aren't giving me enough credit. Do you believe I would sit here drinking ale if I thought she was in danger?"
Marcus hesitated.
"She will arrive safe."
Tramping feet approached the postern door. Marcus whirled as the door opened and Daniel entered, followed by half a dozen men.
"Where is she?" Marcus demanded.
The men parted to reveal Elise, head downcast, hair damp. Marcus frowned, his first thought was Why had she not been given a tartan? But she raised her head and the fire in her eyes ignited an answering fury in him. He strode to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and began shaking her.
"What do you think you were doing?" He shook her harder with every word.