Page 83 of Stealing Sophie

“I think,” Connor said, “your brother wanted to make sure all would be well in any event.”

“And so he chose you over Sir Henry. Because you are a friend, or because you are legitimately Viscount Kinnoull?”

“But I am landless. Friendship, I suppose. We trusted each other,” he said. “And your brother needed someone capable of stopping Sir Henry from taking over your inheritance if it came to that. Duncrieff wanted to make sure Campbell could not influence the clan.” He shrugged a shoulder. “So you see.”

“Oh, dear!” She folded her arms, bent her head as if curling against the thought, the dread. “If I became chief, and Campbell was my husband? Oh, dear.”

“Exactly. He would not do well by Clan Carran. Look what he wrought for Kinnoull. He took the place as fast as it forfeited, while Father and I were in prison.”

“You were there too?“

“Seven months in an Edinburgh cell, waiting for the hangman’s noose. Your brother arranged for my freedom. He went to the Courts of Session and pleaded for my father and me both and paid a surety in coin, and they released me. My crimes were only by association,” he said, “or so they believed. But my father was another matter.”

“I am so very sorry, Connor.”

He nodded, picked up another book, shoved it into place on the shelf. “I owe your brother a good deal. More than he could know.”

“I see. And Sir Henry only wanted to marry me on the chance I might inherit?”

“It appears so. Though I am sure your charm and youth held sway as well.”

Sophie paced away, came back, heart and thoughts racing. “Rob would have seen that your title as Lord Kinnoull could be useful to the clan in case of difficulty. I expect he thought you capable of protecting me, and willing, should I ever act as chief.”

“I expect you are right.”

She met his gaze. “So this is what the stealing and marrying was all about.”

“I did not know this then, I swear it. Nor am I surprised that your brother wanted your practical sense at the head of the clan. Your sister is a bit of a hellion, I hear.”

“She would be a fine chief. She is strong-willed and far braver than me.”

He quirked a brow. “You do not know much about yourself, do you? But even as Lord Kinnoull, I am not much help. My title is hollow without lands, men, and wealth.”

“But I will never be chief.” She reached out, touched his arm. “Connor, promise me that you can help him get free. Help him escape, wherever he is.”

He glanced away. “I would, but—Sophie, I have news about your brother.”

She heard the knell in his voice. “Do not say it.” She stepped back.

He took her arm, drew her toward him. “Listen to me, lass. It is only a rumor, but when I went to Perth last time, he was not there. The guards said he had been taken to Edinburgh, but they had word that on the way...he had died of his wounds.”

”No! It is not true.” She wrenched away. “His kin would have been told.”

“The government might keep the death of a chief, a hero to the rebellion, quiet as long as they could. I got it from one of the guards when I bribed him. Otherwise, I would not have known either. I am sorry. My God, Sophie”—he reached out—“I am sorry.”

“He cannot be dead! I would have felt it. I would know. We have always been close, and I feel as if he is alive somewhere. I feel it!” She swallowed a sob. “How long have you known this rumor?”

“I heard it in Perth a few days before we met.”

“When you snatched me?” She heard herself go shrill. “And all the while, you believed my brother was gone?” She poured grief into fury. “So you kept quiet about it and thought to marry me and take control of the clan yourself!”

“I did not know it then. I swear to you I only thought of my promise to Duncrieff.”

“The noble hero!” She stepped back.

“I did what I had promised. I did not want a wife. Not yet.”

“Not this wife,” she reminded him. “Not the nun. You wanted the hellion!”