Free Hunted (The Scottish Falconers Book 2) by Diane Wylie Page A

hooded on their perches. They would be inspected for injury, fed and watered, and let loose again. Without a mews to house them, the hawks were safer in the trees.
    Having finished with Osgar’s care, Da came over and sat down next to Isobel. He draped an arm around her shoulders. She sagged into his damp, musky-smelling embrace. The fine linen of his shirt rubbed against her cheek.
    “I ken that man is a disappointment to ye, Belle.”
    She sniffed but said nothing.
    “Still, he’s a brave lad, and by my way of thinking, Sinclair likely saved ye from that English soldier.”
    Unable to think charitably toward Derek Sinclair in the slightest, Isobel’s tone was harsh as she replied, “Aye, or maybe he killed the Redcoat to keep him quiet.”
    Her eyes leaked uncontrollably, and she drew a shuddering breath. Da patted her shoulder.
    “I dinna ken what to do about Sinclair. I’ve talked to your brothers, and we’ve decided to sleep on it. If Sinclair is still here in the morning, we’ll discuss his fate.”
    “Are The Honours all right then?” she whispered in his ear.
    “Aye.”
    “So, what are you meaning, Da?”
    Her father glanced over at Derek, who sat with his knees drawn up and head bowed.
    “Any self-respecting man can easily get out of the bindings I’ve used on him. Should he be here tomorrow, ’twill be because he wants it.”
    Catriona had started a fire to prepare a meal, so Isobel forced herself to get up and help. Catriona gave her a brief, sympathetic hug then let her go. Little conversation was needed; she and her sister-in-law had done this so many times, they performed their tasks without speaking.
    Soon, they had a big pot of rabbit stew with barley and carrots from Burnett’s kitchen simmering over the fire.
    Delicious smells wafted from the pot as Isobel stirred the stew and ladled some out for each member of their little group.
    Catriona took a bowl of stew to Derek and sat down to talk with him. Isobel had to turn away from the sight. Her eyes blurred, and she wiped away the moisture as Fin glanced her way.
    “Smoke is getting in my eyes.”
    “Aye,” he agreed solemnly.
    “How is your arm, Fin?”
    “I’ll bide, ’tis not so bad.”
    He didn’t say anything mean or sarcastic. She almost wished he would.
    With supper over, everyone prepared to sleep, except Da, who would take the first watch.
    Isobel sneaked a peek at Derek as she took a blanket from the cart. He was lying on his good side with a blanket rolled up under his head, and he was still bound hand and foot. She turned back to check the sacks inside the cart. All of the pieces of the crown jewels of Scotland were safe in their respective hiding places.
    Rabbie and Catriona slept together, with their temporary son between them. Fin had his own spot, and Isobel did as well. She had grown accustomed to sleeping near Derek when they camped outdoors, but she kept far away from the liar now.
    Lying down on her back, she gazed up at the night sky, filled with so many stars. Her beloved peregrine falcon sat in some nearby tree, hidden away from any predators. Isobel liked to imagine that an invisible bond stretched between her and Latharna, and it almost seemed true. Her hawk had appeared within seconds of Isobel’s whistle. Had she not whistled a second time, Latharna would have continued to claw and tear at Derek.
    She remembered his torn shirt and injured flesh underneath. Had Catriona cleaned and dressed his wounds? Isobel didn’t know and would not wake her sister-in-law to ask. Let the bastard wait. He had lied about his identity. What else had Derek lied about? Who was he really?
    * * *
    The Grahams hated him now. There was no doubt. He could see it in their eyes. Who could blame them? The English had tortured and beaten Rabbie Graham and destroyed their home in Dunnottar Castle. Apparently, they had burned down Catriona Graham’s family home as well.
    Yes, the English were a people that the Scots had every reason to