Page 49 of This Laird of Mine

“You’re what?” she breathed as the world around her swayed.

Jules must have felt her movement, because in spite of his words, his arm tightened around her, keeping her from falling off the horse. Her eyes filled with tears. Until that moment, she had hoped that somehow, someway, she might be able to reach past his anger and start anew. No matter the anger and vehemence in his voice now, they had shared something special, something worth trying to rebuild.

And God help her, she would find a way to make that happen. He would not abandon her yet, not until they found the girls. Claire sent up a silent prayer that they would find the girls alive and well, and that somehow in the next several days she would find a way through the ice encasing his heart.

As silence once again settled between them, David kicked his horse abreast of theirs. He held a sleeping Penelope in his arms.

“How does she fare?” Claire asked, grateful for the distraction.

“She is still weary from the trauma and the laudanum the doctor gave her last night,” David replied.

“That might be for the best. At least the journey will be bearable as she sleeps.” Claire noted the protective way David held Penelope in his arms.

“Why did they cut off her finger?” he asked, his tone perplexed. “The threat was that they would kill her. I am glad they did not, mind you.”

“To a painter, losing a finger is certain death, especially a female painter,” Claire replied.

“How so?” David asked.

“With no other way to support herself, her prospects for survival grow slim.” At David’s darkened expression, Claire added, “I will not let her fall victim to that.”

His brows furrowed as his gaze shifted between herself and Jules. “But how will you—”

“I will find a way. I always have,” she said with a tilt of her chin.

David nodded. “We are on the right path. I can tell from the broken branches and displaced earth that three riders have been through here since last night. The storm last night would have slowed down their progress, but they have had a head start on us.”

“Then we had best make up for some of that lost time,” Jules said, kicking his horse into a faster gait. The pace forced their conversation to end. They rode hard for the rest of the day, stopping just once to rest the horses and eat by a brook in a glen.

Only when orange and red fell in silken threads through the twilight sky did they stop. Instead of lodging at an inn, Jules prepared a campsite. It wasn’t until he had created an overhang made from tree boughs and ferns, laid a fire, cooked the meal, and watered the horses did he finally speak to her again. “It’s late.” He stopped in front of her as she sat near the fire with Penelope’s head in her lap. “You should settle Penelope into her blankets, then do the same. I will keep watch.”

“No,” Claire said. Penelope’s eyes opened at her forceful tone. “You are exhausting yourself. We can all take turns keeping watch.”

“I’ll take the first shift,” David volunteered.

Claire nodded her thanks. “If we change positions every two hours, we will all be able to get at least a little sleep. Those who we seek are ahead of us on this journey. There is no imminent danger to us until we catch up with them.”

“You are wrong.” Penelope lifted her head from Claire’s lap and sat up. Penelope was marble-pale in the moonlight, her thin body swaying slightly. It was the first time she had spoken since last night. “These people are ruthless. They could be anywhere.”

Claire reached up and pulled the blanket that had slipped from Penelope’s shoulders around her once more. Penelope did not look away from the fire as she said haltingly, “Especially the woman. She took everything from me when she cut off my finger.”

“A female? Could she be the one the innkeeper warned me about?” Jules asked.

As Jules became lost in his own thoughts, Claire turned back to Penelope. “No,” Claire said fiercely. “That woman took your finger, but nothing else. You will heal in mind and body.”

Penelope looked away, but not before Claire saw the fear in her eyes.

Silence hovered over the campsite as Claire’s thoughts tumbled through her brain. What kind of vile creatures were they chasing? Creatures who kidnapped young women, then tortured and manipulated them for their own gain? Claire stood, no longer able to contain her emotions without movement. “David, thank you for taking the first shift. I will take the second, so Jules can have a chance to rest.”

She moved to grab one of the blankets piled near the fire when Jules gripped her shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze. “This isn’t a game, Claire. This is real. The threat is real. If you’ve forgotten that, look at Penelope’s hand. How will you defend this campsite? With your paintbrush?”

The words hit her like a blow. She flinched. He was still mad at her deception, but she would not bow to his anger. Not this time. “Do not underestimate me, Jules. I am stronger than you know.” She shook off his touch and set her blanket near Penelope’s. “I blame myself for what happened to Penelope, but I will not let anything like that happen again.”

His face softened. “Do not blame yourself. You did not make them do such despicable things.”

She was raw and hurting, and wanted so desperately to go to Jules and find comfort in his arms. But she could not. She wasn’t welcome there any longer. Instead, she would have to live with the ache, the regret, and the sorrow.

She turned away, knelt on the ground, then settled herself beneath the blanket. “Wake me in two hours, David. My paintbrush and I will find a way to keep you all safe. A woman can do anything if she is strong enough.”