Coming back over to Jonet, he tossed her a few. “Here,” he said. “Ye think ye can handle tyin’ their hands and feet?”
“I’ve picked up a lot of tricks from me Faither,” Jonet replied. “Ye daenae need to worry about me.”
“I daenae doubt it.” He decided to tie up the leader, considering the fact that he was still conscious. He did not want any surprises, even though it was plain that they had not come for Jonet.
Soon enough, they managed to tie them all up. Matthew heaved the two unconscious men over his shoulder and then threw them over the backs of Temper and Fenella. Surprisingly, Temper protested little.
He made his way to the leader and knelt in front of him. He patted his cheek, trying to bring him closer to recovery so that he could talk.
“Ye still cannae catch yer breath?” Matthew asked. “Nae much of a brigand, are ye?”
“Ye… try gettin’… hit in the chest… by a horse,” the man wheezed. “Then… ye’ll see.”
“I would apologize for that,” Jonet was standing behind Matthew, her arms crossed. “But I dinane really appreciate the way ye were tryin’ to attack Matthew. So, I’ll reserve any kindness.”
The man huffed a laugh, then coughed. “I should have expected… as much… from the daughter of Laird MacLagain.”
“Ah, so ye ken who she is,” Matthew nodded. “And yet ye ignored her completely and focused all yer attention on me. Were ye nae interested in robbin’ her?”
“I cannae deny. I was… thinkin’ about it. I thought we could do it… once we had… taken care of ye.”
Matthew frowned. “Taken care of me? Were ye meant to kill me?”
“Aye…” The man chuckled, then wheezed. “We would have been successful if the lass hadnae been with ye.”
“Matthew…”
Matthew heard the fear in her voice. He knew exactly what was going through her head. It was her worst fears realized.
“Do I ken ye?” he asked the brigand. “Did I happen to make ye me enemy without even realizin’?”
“I havenae met ye in me life before today. But… we were only doin’ what we were bein’ paid to do.”
“Ye were paid to kill me.”
“Aye. I daenae ken who she is, though. Nae her name or… or anythin’ else for that matter.”
Matthew frowned. He had conned a great many ladies in his past, the same past he was so determined to put behind him. Could it be one of those ladies trying to get back at him for the things he had done?
“Is there anythin’ about her that ye are able to tell me?”
The man grinned. “Will ye be lettin’ me and me men go if we answer the rest of yer questions?”
“That’s nae an option,” Jonet’s voice was strict. In that moment, she truly was every bit the daughter of a Laird. “Ye are comin’ back to the Castle with us whether ye give us answers or not. But, dependin’ on what he tell us, I may be able to persuade me Faither to be lenient on ye.”
The man’s grin fell. He sneered at Jonet, but she refused to cower in light of it. She only lifted an expectant brow.
He conceded, “I’ve told ye all I ken already. She covered most of her face when she met with us. The only thing I ken about her is that she is a petite woman. That’s all.”
Jonet sighed. “How disappointin’. I dinnae think me Faither will be so merciful for so little information, but I suppose nothing can be done about it.”
She turned and made her way over to her horse. Matthew wanted to go after her, but he decided to deal with the brigand first. He heaved him onto his unsteady legs and led him over to Temper. He and Jonet would be forced to walk while he had the brigands slung over the horses’ backs, Fenella only bearing the weight of one.
He sent a worried glance Jonet’s way, but she scarcely looked at him as she trotted off, forcing Matthew to hurry to keep up.
He knew what she was feeling and his heart clenched, not knowing what it meant for their future. The future that had seemed so bright just a few minutes ago.
Jonet would not admit to anyone, not even herself, that she was trembling from the remnants of her fear and not because she was now half-soaked from her still dripping hair. On the way back to the Castle, she had managed to bring herself to a state of complete calm, but she knew that was as fragile as glass. It would only take one word, or perhaps one look from Matthew, to break her completely.