The Highlander's Thief

Chapter Twenty

Pulling himself from the warm bed and Rosa's embrace was the hardest thing McWilliam ever had to do. Cocooned in her room like this it was almost possible to forget the world outside existed. It was like they had created a place of their own, where nothing and nobody could get to them.

But it wasn't real. And there were things he still needed to do.

Murmuring half-words in her sleep, Rosa reached towards him as he pulled on his shoes. When she wasn't trying so desperately to avoid his touch, she was endearingly clingy. Like the first night they'd ever slept side by side in that English inn when Rosa had kept sliding onto his half of the bed.

He wanted nothing more than to climb back under the counterpane with her.

Forcing his legs into action, he hurried from the room without a backwards glance.

Every inch of his body remembered the feel of her against him. It was like her essence was now rooted so deep beneath his skin that he couldn't shake the feel of her even as he crossed the courtyard and started around the castle towards the village.

It was yet early—the sun still hung low in the sky—but ahead he could already see people gathering outside their houses, the men strapping on their shoes and tightening their belts ready for another long day searching. Looking for Rodd among the foothills was the last thing he wanted to be doing—he was beginning to give up hope that they'd find him hiding so close to home, but what else could he do while he waited for a message from London or Manchester or Laird Kyles? Besides, he'd made a promise to Rosa that he'd find her cousin, and he was making one to himself right now—he would do anything to keep her safe and in his arms. He sped up.

* * *

Rosa woke slowly. She was deliciously warm under the blankets and sunlight streamed in through the open shutters tickling her skin. It was the first truly sunny day she'd seen since arriving in Scotland.

Anndrais McWilliam wasn't in bed, though there was a slight hollow on his side as though he'd only just vacated. And there was a note waiting for her on his empty pillow.

Joined the search. Will return at nightfall.

Guilt washed over her. How dare she sleep in when Amelia was still in danger? Rosa should be out there searching for her like everyone else.

She shoved the counterpane aside, scrambling out of bed. Quickly washing, she pulled on yesterday's clothes, pinning her hair out of her face. She was a little sore, but it only served as a reminder of what had happened earlier this morning. That she'd let happen.

She didn't care anymore that she was a fallen woman. It didn't matter. What she did care about was that she'd let her time with McWilliam push all thoughts of Amelia temporarily from her mind. Her cousin had to be Rosa's first and only priority. She owed Amelia and Uncle Oliver that much, and she owed Emily more than she could ever repay.

The bedchamber door was locked but her laird had left the key on the bedside table where she could easily find it, and Rosa rushed out into the corridor. Then she paused—she didn't have a plan. It wasn't like she could run outside and start searching the fields and mountains for Amelia. The search parties were probably long gone, and she had no idea in which direction.

No, Rosa needed to focus on uncovering the identity of Rodd's coconspirator. If she could work out who'd helped capture Amelia, then she might be able to work out where Amelia was being held.

She ducked back into her room and collected the scrap of paper she'd found in Rhona's fireplace. Step 1: work out if this really was Rodd's handwriting. And if it was then... Step 2: work out if Rhona knew who'd written the note. Where had she snuck off to two days ago when she slipped out of her room? And why was she pretending her ankle was still sore when it had obviously healed days ago? If it had ever been injured in the first place. And why was she afraid of Cameron?