But when the man led her toward a wagon she dug in her heels. He kept his face in the shadow of his hat so she couldn’t get a good look at him. His voice hadn’t sounded familiar. But if he was someone who meant her no harm, he wouldn’t have a dagger pressed to her ribs. If he was going to kill her, she’d rather he did it where her body might be found. And where he couldn’t have a chance to prolong her suffering before ending her life.
Why had she ever left London? She should have tried harder to talk her mistress out of her mad scheme. A rush of homesickness for the nice, safe room in the Chivers’ London townhouse overwhelmed her, and she wished, more than anything, that she was back home.
“I demand you release me at once,” she said, taking care not to raise her voice loudly enough to draw attention.
“I’ll do no such thing.”
They’d reached the wagon, and she waited for her chance to flee. Hopefully, he’d put her in the bed of the wagon, which might afford her the opportunity to jump out and escape.
Either he had the same thought or simply wanted to keep her close, because instead of tossing her into the wagon bed, he grasped her arm tighter and all but shoved her up front onto the driver’s bench. He was so close behind her she couldn’t even throw herself over the other side. He sat, pulled her down beside him, and wrapped an arm about her shoulders.
“Take the reins,” he said, tightening his grip on her shoulders and keeping the knife to her side.
She hesitated for only a second, but it was enough for him to press the blade in until she gasped from the sharp prick. She glared at him but gathered the reins. He nodded. “Good. Now take us onto the road. Stay to the side and dinna say a word.”
“I thought you wanted to chat,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Aye. Once we are away from prying eyes.”
Her heart thundered at that. She had to get away before they got too far from town. Who knew what his plans would be once they were alone?
She kept an eye out for an opportunity. If she could escape without worrying about drawing attention to herself, she’d scream her fool head off and let the blackguard next to her do what he might. But with Lady Alice’s scheme hanging in the balance… Rose sighed. And then sat up straighter. Up ahead of them was a bend. The road was lined with shrubbery, and a small copse of trees lay beyond it. There weren’t too many travelers. If she could break away and make it to the trees before the man could follow, she might be able to hide in the woods. She’d have a minute or two headway as he’d have to deal with the horses before following.
She shifted in her seat, trying to put a few inches between them. He’d loosened his grip slightly, and his knife, while still poised and ready, no longer pressed into her side. The bend neared, and she tightened her grip on the reins. Just before it was upon them, she lifted her arms and brought the reins down with a crack, shouting “Yah!” to the horses.
The horses shot forward with a burst of speed, and the momentum flung Rose and the man back in their seats.
“What are ye doing?” he hollered.
He’d let go of her when he fell back, and she wasted no time. She grabbed hold of the sideboard and flung herself from the wagon. She landed on one of the blessed bushes which thankfully lessened the brunt of her fall. However, disentangling herself slowed her down. The man managed to bring the horses to a halt and shouted at her again. She didn’t pause to listen.
She gathered her skirts and ran into the trees as fast as she could. His footsteps thundered behind her but she didn’t stop. She did, however, look back over her shoulder once. He was much closer than she thought. She ran faster, turning around right as he shouted, “Wait!”
A blinding pain shot through her head as she collided with a low hanging branch. It knocked her off her feet, flat onto her back. The last thing she saw before the darkness closed in around her was the man standing over her, his arms reaching out.
…
“Lass?” William reached out and brushed her hair from her face, his fingers gingerly pressing along her head as he checked for wounds. She seemed to be fine, albeit unconscious. And a stunning beauty even out cold on the forest floor. Too bad she was probably a spy for his worst enemy.
He held his hand in front of her face. She still breathed. And there was no blood, but she’d have a headache when she awoke for certain.
“Who are ye, lass? Hmm? Friend or foe?”
She didn’t respond. He sighed and gathered her up, swinging her into his arms with a grunt. Thankfully, she hadn’t made it too far.
“Ye’re lucky, lass. If I had to trudge a greater distance with you in my arms, I might have left ye there.”
He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that contradicted that lie. Yet, leaving her in the woods would accomplish his objective just as well as taking her prisoner. Mayhap more so, as taking her meant bringing her straight to the man for whom he suspected she worked.
“Leaving ye would make things a great deal easier,” he said, realizing full well he was speaking to someone who couldn’t speak back. Still, speaking aloud to her made her dead weight seem less heavy.
“I ken I dinna have much to go on yet, since ye went and skelped yerself in the head before I could question ye. But then, if ye dinna want to be taken for questioning, ye really should ha’ acted less suspicious on the docks. Truly, the fact that ye were there at all…well, I kent it in my gut. And I mean to hear ye admit that ye’re a spy for Ramsay. As ye most likely are. Why else would ye be standing there where ye have no business t’be, looking as suspicious as the day is long? Ye’d certainly been watching the ship that my kinsman was on, that much is certain.”
He took a deep breath. “I dinna think ye’d made it so far into the woods, lassie. Good on ye. Except that now I have to haul ye back. Ye’re no’ but a wee thing, but still…” He hefted her up a bit higher with a groan. “It would help a fair bit if ye could wake and maybe put yer arms about my neck.”
Instead, her head lolled against his shoulder. He glanced down at her peaceful features. “No? All right then, lass. If ye insist on being carried.”
He walked a couple more feet before he started talking out loud again. “I ken ye’ll no’ likely thank me for taking ye from the docks. But I’ll have ye ken, ’twas a fair risk for me to do so. I’m sure ye’ll no’ appreciate the courage it took. Understandable.”
He laughed at his own joke and hefted her up again. “But I couldna leave ye free to report my kinsman’s whereabouts to Ramsay. Although, I do find it unfortunate that my honor wouldna allow me to leave a defenseless woman in the woods, even if ye dinna prove innocent. Ye’re a bonnie lass, but ye’re breaking my back, if ye dinna mind me saying so.”
He shifted her weight the best he could. If he could throw her over his shoulder, it would be much easier carrying her. But that would force all the blood into her head and give her an even more wicked headache than the one she’d already have. Best to suffer through the dead weight and be thankful he wouldn’t have to carry her too much farther.
He glanced down at her again. “Still asleep, lassie?” He nodded. “Right then.”
He took another deep breath and let it out with relief when he caught sight of the bush where he’d tied the horse and hidden the wagon. “Aye, saints be praised,” he muttered.
Her weight felt a bit lighter now that the end was in sight. Or perhaps his arms had begun to go numb. Either way, he was thankful for the reprieve from his screaming muscles. He’d obviously been lying about too much while in Ramsay’s employ. His cousins would never let him get away with such laziness. There were always chores to be done at the MacGregor households. He’d hated that as a child, but he had to admit, the constant activity had kept him strong and finely honed.
He made it to the wagon and laid her in the back. “Sorry, lass. I wasn’t expecting passengers so, unfortunately, I have no straw. But,” he said, balling up a handful of her cloak to cushion her head, “hopefully this will help a bit
.”
He patted her down, feeling through the material of her clothing looking for weapons. “Ye’ll pardon me, I hope, but I canna be too cautious. I’ve spent too long infiltrating Ramsay’s group and earning the blackguard’s trust to let some woman ruin everything now. Ramsay wouldn’t hesitate to run me through if he thought he’d been betrayed. And I’d lose any advantage my inside knowledge has given my kin, if I’m dead. With my position as one of Ramsay’s men, I can keep an eye on things and report anything suspicious to my kinsman Philip, who in turn, reports to our other kinsmen John and Malcolm, the laird of the MacGregors, who everyone calls The Lion. Get all that, did ye? I hope so, because I’ll no’ repeat it.”
A quiet snore escaped her lips, and William snorted. “Ah,” he said in triumph, extracting a small but wicked looking dagger from her pocket. “I’ll return this to ye if ye prove ye’re no enemy to me and mine.”
He bound her hands and feet, tight enough to keep her from escaping but loose enough they weren’t too uncomfortable. He wasn’t a monster for all that he felt like one when he gagged her with the clean handkerchief from his pocket.
“My apologies for all this, lass. But if ye decide to grace us with yer presence again before I can get ye hidden, we’ll both be in danger. Philip, my cousin, the man I’m sure ye saw on the docks, is a known associate of Ramsay’s sworn enemies. Also my kinsmen. Aren’t I the lucky lad? Ramsay, damn his eyes, has spies everywhere. As ye probably ken well enough as ye are most likely one of them. So. I’m afraid there is no way that I can allow ye, no matter how bonnie ye may be, to pose a threat to my kin. Ye’ve seen Philip, I’m certain. On the docks boarding the ship. And ye’ve seen me. As ye ken well. It is very possible ye’ve seen us together and if ye have, well, that puts me in a bind, does it no’?”
He made sure everything was secure and that she wouldn’t be able to sit up in the wagon. The last thing he needed was for a trussed up maid to jump from his wagon, again, at an inopportune moment.
“Had ye sat tight for a few more minutes, ye foolish lass, we could have had our chat and, on the off chance ye’d proven innocent, I’d have let ye go on yer way. Now, I’m forced to take ye with me. Perhaps ’tis for the best. This way, I can ensure ye do no harm. And if ye are’na who I ken ye to be…well, ye still willna be telling anyone about anything ye’ve seen. At least until I’m a fair distance away from ye.”
He hopped back into the wagon and grabbed the reins. He needed to make haste to return to Ramsay’s camp. He’d already been gone too long. What he’d do with the blasted woman when he got there he still didn’t know.
Chapter Three
A fierce pounding gradually invaded Rose’s dreams. The pressure behind her eyes throbbed until she could no longer keep them closed. Though opening them was the last thing she wanted to do. Until she remembered what she’d been doing before everything had gone black.
She sat up with a gasp and immediately regretted it. She brought her hands up to her head…her bound hands. A rising tide of panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to breathe, slowly and evenly, and take stock of her situation.
Her hands were bound but she wasn’t harmed or hampered in any other way. Her mouth was dry as toast and a bit sore at the edges. She wasn’t currently gagged but, from the way she felt, she most likely had been. She lay on a cloak covering a pile of straw in what looked like the ruined remains of what might have once been a parlor or receiving room of an old manor house. The straw was clean, as was the rest of the space, despite the slightly musty smell that seemed to permeate old buildings. The room also sported a huge, ornate hearth that unfortunately did not contain a roaring fire. She shivered and shrank farther into her cloak. The man who’d taken her was nowhere to be seen.
She tried pulling her wrists apart, testing how tight the ropes were. There was a little leeway. Enough to keep the rope from cutting into her skin. Not enough for her to pull her hands free. Her feet were thankfully not bound, though a slight redness around her ankles suggested they had been. How long had she been asleep?
She brought her wrists to her lips and tugged at the rope with her teeth, inwardly cursing the tree she had run into. Of all the stupid mistakes to make. Next time, she’d take better care to watch where she was going.
“I’d be careful there, lass. That’s a fine way to damage a perfectly good set of teeth.”
The voice behind her made her jump, and she spun around to find the man who’d taken her standing in the doorway, holding a bowl of something steaming. She scrambled backward but there was nowhere to go but up against the wall.
“I’ll no’ hurt ye, lass.”
“I’m afraid the evidence suggests otherwise.”
His lips twitched and she narrowed her eyes at him, surprised that he seemed amused rather than angry at her insolence. Not very villainous of him. Nor was the handsome face that was half hidden in the shadows. She relaxed for a split second and then tensed her muscles again. Pleasant features did not mean he was harmless. Not all devils looked the part.
“My apologies, lass,” he said. “Perhaps I should have said I have no intention of hurting ye further.”
She scowled and held up her bound hands. “This is not hurting me? Kidnapping me and bringing me to this…this…place is not hurting me?”
He shrugged. “Aye, well it’s no’ my finest hour, I’ll give ye that. But I meant what I said. Ye’ll come to no further harm. And if ye dinna prove a threat, ye’ll be free to go on yer way.”
She snorted. “You expect me to believe you?”
He gave her a faint smile at that. “I probably wouldna if I were in yer position. But I swear on my mother’s grave, I speak the truth.”
She still didn’t trust him, but her heart calmed some of its frantic beating at that.
“I brought ye something to eat,” he said, nodding at the bowl. He set it close to her and stepped back.
Smart. She’d had every intention of bashing him in the face if he’d gotten close enough. The amused look in his eye told her he was very aware of that intention.
She eyed the bowl suspiciously.
“It’s not poisoned,” he said. “I canna get any information from ye if ye’re dead.”
Well, that was true enough. And if she was going to escape, she’d need her strength. She picked up the bowl and sniffed at the contents. Some sort of stew. She took a cautious sip. Not bad. Not great, but not bad. And it was warm and filling.
The man waited until she’d eaten her fill and then snagged the bowl from her before she had a chance to sling it at his head. He sat down on a stool near her and rested his elbows on his knees so he could stare right into her eyes. She wanted to lower her gaze, but she wouldn’t show any sign of weakness. She straightened up and glared at him.
“Who are ye, then?” he asked. “And what were ye doing on the docks this morning?”
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
His faced hardened, and he leaned forward. “Dinna make this harder than it needs to be, lass. Answer the question.”
She swallowed, not wanting to put herself in more danger. But answering would put her mistress in danger. In fact, it was probably already too late. Without Rose there to cover for her, Lady Alice’s absence was surely already known. Rose could only hope no one would guess she’d sailed away.
“Who are you, then? Why does a barbarian Scot,” she said with a sneer, “have any interest in the identity of a simple maid?”
He ignored the insult, either because he was used to them or didn’t have the sense to realize he’d been insulted. She assumed the latter. “A maid? For whom?”
Damn. She hadn’t meant to betray any information. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Aye. It matters a great deal. Why were ye on the docks?”
She hesitated and then decided it couldn’t hurt to reveal a little of the truth. Maybe it would be enough to placate him. “I was running an errand for my mistress.”
“Yer mistress had an errand for ye? There? Seems like a more fitting job for one of the menfolk of the house.”
Rose shrugged. “That’s not for me to say. I do as I’m told.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
She glared at him again. “Doubt it all you want. You asked, I answered. Now let me go. My mistress will be frantic with worry. Wait…how long have I been here? And where is here?”
William raised an eyebrow and for a miserable second she didn’t think he’d answer. Then he shrugged, “Ye dinna need to worry about where here is. As for how long, a few hours. Ye hit yer head—”
“A few hours?” She struggled against her bounds anew and tried to stand, panic rushing through her. “I have to leave. I must get back. If my mistress’s family discover she’s gone—”
She stopped short, belatedly realizing she’d revealed too much.
The man narrowed his eyes. “Who is yer mistress? And where has she gone?”
“Let me go,” she said, shaking her bound hands at him. She wouldn’t betray any more.
The man frowned, his eyes focusing on her as if he’d pull all her secrets out whether she willed it or no.
“Why were ye at the docks, lass? Did ye accompany yer mistress there?”
Rose stopped at that, chest heaving from her exertions. “I cannot say. Please let me go. Before it’s too late.” Her chin trembled, and she swallowed back the tears, angry that her frustration and anxiety had driven her to that point. She didn’t want to give the wretch the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
The man seemed to hesitate before making some sort of decision. He leaned forward and spoke low and quiet. “Is yer mistress the Lady Alice? Was she meeting a man on the ship that sailed today?”
Rose gasped. “How did you know that?”
“Christ,” he said, leaning back before banging his fist on his knee. He paced around the room before coming back to her.
When she saw the knife in his hand she shrank back against the wall.
How to Forgive a Highlander (MacGregor Lairds) Page 2