Page 73 of Redemption for the Baron

She didn’t know how long she’d been riding before she noticed a faint glow flickering in the distance, just beyond the tree line. Smoke curled upward, thin but visible against the inky sky, a beacon leading her to the heart of what had been set in motion.

She eased the horse to a stop as the trees thinned around her. Sliding down the saddle, her boots sank into the softened ground. The clearing ahead was shrouded in an eerie stillness, the silence broken only by the soft hiss of lanterns swaying from low branches.

Bridget pressed a steadying hand against the book beneath her cloak. Her pulse pounded, fear and determination battled for dominance. But her back remained straight, her stance unwavering. She was Lady Bridget McConnell, daughter of Laird Duncan McConnell of Glencross, Chief of Clan McConnell. She was Highland born, Highland bred. She lifted her chin and walked into the clearing.

Across from her, a tall man with sharp, calculating eyes stepped forward, his long, dark cloak shifting as he moved. His smirk was one of cruel amusement.

“Well, well,” he drawled, eyeing her with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “You’re not who we expected. Where is Townsend?”

Bridget forced a measured breath, meeting his gaze. “Plans changed.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed slightly, his smirk twitching. “Did they? And who might you be?”

She ignored the question. Instead, she shifted her grip on the book beneath her cloak. “I have what you want,” she said evenly.

That caught his attention. His gaze dropped and tracked what she was holding. Around him, the others tensed, their hands inching toward their weapons, alert and suddenly still.

“You’ve brought the journal,” he murmured, his tone suddenly more interested. “I must admit, I didn’t think Townsend would be fool enough to send someone else in his place. And certainly not—” He eyed her with amusement. “You.”

Bridget slowly withdrew the decoy from beneath her cloak, lifting it just enough for the lantern light to catch the leather cover. A ripple of tension passed through the group.

“You seem surprised,” she said, voice edged with irony. “You didn’t expect someone to be so obliging, did you?”

The leader’s lips curled into a thin smile, though his eyes flickered with suspicion. “Perhaps not. But if you’re here, you know its value.”

She took a step forward, closer to the fire. “I know enough to realize you’ll stop at nothing to get it.”

A murmur ran through the men behind him, but the leader merely tilted his head. “A clever girl. But I wonder, why risk coming here alone? Surely someone like you has more… expendable options.”

Bridget lifted her chin. “Sometimes, if you want something done right, you do it yourself.” Then, after a deliberate pause, she added coolly, “Or did you think I would grant you what you want without making you earn it first?”

A flicker of irritation passed over the leader’s face, his smirk fading. The men around him shifted, growing restless.

“Enough games,” he snapped. “Give me the journal.”

Bridget hesitated just long enough for tension to increase. She had only seconds now, seconds before everything turned to chaos.

She extended the journal just beyond his reach, her fingers tightening around the leather cover. “If you want it, you’ll have to give me something in return.”

His expression darkened. “You’re in no position to negotiate, my dear.”

Bridget’s grip didn’t waver. Her voice dropped, deliberate and steady. “Maybe not. But the question is, are you willing to take that risk?”

A shadow moved at the edge of the clearing.

“Enough!” A voice cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and commanding.

Bridget’s breath caught.

Thomas stepped into the clearing, his expression carved from stone.

The leader turned, amusement flickering across his face. “And here I thought tonight couldn’t get any more interesting.” His eyes gleamed. “Lord Grenville, I presume?”

Thomas ignored the taunt, his gaze snapped to Bridget, ensuring she was unhurt before shifting back to the leader. “Step away,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

Bridget hesitated, every instinct telling her to stand her ground.

The leader sighed, shaking his head. “You two are more trouble than you’re worth.”

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