“An animal? Or a bird swooping down to alight upon a branch? Another sound, that of a footstep, made her stand quickly, back braced against the rock wall. The English could not have found the cave. It was too well hidden. Tucked among the trees and concealed by the overgrown bushes, it would be almost impossible to find. She waited breathlessly, telling herself it was Hamish coming to find her. Or one of the villagers who knew the layout of the caves. But her palms were icy, her heart booming so... loud it sounded like an English drum. When the bushes parted, she almost sighed in resignation. The Butcher stood in the entrance to the cave. Why should it not be him? He’d not done what she’d expected since arriving at Gilmuir. Half his face was shadowed, the other lit by sunlight. She had the curious thought that he had two identities—the man she expected him to be and the man he truly was. She’d lived around men all her life, and had become accustomed to her brothers’ bursts of temper and her father’s bellicose nature.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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