“Ye’ll be riding with me,” he told her.
He did not touch her, or force her to follow him. He simple turned on his heel and made his way over to a large grey stallion without a single glance back, certain that she would follow.
Catriona was no fool. Though everything in her tried to convince her that this was her chance to flee, she knew it to be folly. She would never make it to her horse. She would not make it more than two steps in the opposite direction before his men would be on her. And she had no doubt that the punishment for her disobedience would be severe.
So Catriona followed him silently as her hatred for the man simmered within her.
“Get up,” he ordered, pointing to the horse.
Catriona scrambled up into the saddle and took hold of the reins. Her hands tightened around them as the taste of freedom surged through her, and then a heavy hand suddenly landed on her thigh, squeezing it tightly.
“I would not try it if I were ye, lass. He will not take off without me, so ye had best be putting any thought of escape out of yer mind, unless ye are wanting me to walk behind the horse for the entire journey instead of ride upon him?”
Catriona shook her head no, and held herself very still as he climbed upon the horse behind her. His arms came around her to take the reins and she leaned forward slightly, wanting to put some distance between their two bodies. Her skin crawled at the intimate nature of their riding together. The cold detachment Liam had showed her on their journey to Invergarry was now almost a fond memory.
It did not take long, however, for Catriona to become incredibly uncomfortable holding herself in the saddle in such an unnatural position, and eventually she had to give in and rest her back against his chest. Even that light contact between them turned the blood to ice in her veins.
The men rode in silence as they continued down the forest road. They did not talk or laugh or joke, merely followed behind their leader without even the knowledge of where he was taking them.
When they rounded a bend in the road, Catriona looked back at the other riders and her eyes collided with a familiar face. She recognized the narrow build and hunched set of his shoulders from the night before, but now in the bright light of day she finally understood why he had tried to conceal himself from her.
It was the man who had attacked her in the hallway the night her father had forced her to marry Liam MacDonell.
Chapter 16
Catriona wrapped her arms around herself and shivered within the many folds of the belted earasaid that she had wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
It was late afternoon on the fourth day of their journey, and it had been raining for the past two days. Catriona could not believe her ears when, instead of stopping to look for shelter, her captor had ordered their small group to ride on.
Her skirts clung heavily to her legs, and her hair lay in thick matted locks that had plastered themselves to the side of her face. She was soaked to the skin and every last inch of her was bone cold.
Because of the direction they had ridden in from when they had first captured her, Catriona knew that they must have passed through Drummond land, but they had not gone anywhere near the castle, keeping her well away from her father.
Catriona cast her gaze over to the narrow, hunched man who rode with them. Every so often she could feel his gaze upon her. She tried to ignore his furtive glances, feigning ignorance of her realization of who the man was. But inside, her mind was racing. He was not one of her father’s men, that much was clear. Neither was he one of Liam’s. So how was it that he had been there to attack her beneath her father’s very roof? It was very unlikely that he would have been invited as one of the wedding guests, so the question was, what had the loathsome man been doing there in the first place?
She had had four days of silence. Her days were spent on horseback, with the cold-eyed man ever near. Her nights were spent with her wrists and ankles bound, tied to the nearest tree, her every movement watched to ensure she did not try to flee. Four long, hard days of not knowing her fate. And in that entire time, not once had any of the men spoken their leader’s name. She had only ever heard the man be referred to as ‘he’ or ‘him’ but nothing more.
It were as though to utter his name was to enchant some kind of dark curse. As though they feared it would call him forth, drawing his attention, and he would look into them with those cold, empty eyes of his before dragging them back down to the pits from whence he came.
These men had no love for him, only fear. But what power could he possibly possess that would compel them all to stay despite how they felt about him? Who was he? And what were his plans for her? Catriona was still nowhere nearer to knowing what was to happen to her once they reached their destination.
Angus’s final words continued to plague her. She tried to quell her nausea at the memory of how he died and focused on what he had been saying just before it happened. What mess were the men in and what did her father have to do with it? They had mentioned a fire and The MacDonell’s anger. She had a sneaking suspicion that these were the men Liam’s brother Alex had attempted to hunt down and bring to justice. The ones Liam had accused of being under her father’s orders.
She still did not want to believe it. From what she had seen, her da had always been a kind and just man. So what business did he have dealing with men such as these? She refused to accept that he would ever have anything to do with this group of thieves and murderers.
As they trudged on, the sky turned dark and angry. The rain poured down on them in sheets and the wind whipped around them. A bright fork of lighting cracked across the sky, followed closely by a deep roll of thunder, and the horses went wild. Neither man nor beast wanted to be out in such hellish weather.
A loud neigh rang out, and Catriona turned to see Meera rear up before landing heavily and kicking out with her back legs. They had not allowed her to ride her mare, to ensure she would not be able to flee. The man holding Meera’s reins lost his grip on her, and a moment later the horse was free. Meera wasted no time in turning around and thundering down the road, back the way they had come.
“Get that horse!” the dark-eyed man yelled before anyone could go after her. “We are almost there.”
Even though fear for her own situation gripped Catriona, she could not help but feel happy for the mare that had gotten free. With any luck they would not catch her, and the horse would make her way back home to the stables at Drummond Castle. She hated the idea of such a gentle animal being pressed into service at the mercy of these men.
As they rode on, two of the riders broke away from the group to chase down her horse.
They rode on a few hours more, and Catriona heaved a sigh of relief as they made their way through the gates of a castle she had never before visited. While she was fearful of what was to become of her now that they had reached their destination, she was grateful to soon be getting off of the horse and out of the cold rain.
The keep was small compared to her father’s sprawling estate, but roughly the same size as Invergarry. And though it may have just been the effect of the terrible weather on her mood, there was something rather eerie about the place. Catriona looked up at the dark face of the castle and felt unsettled.
Her captor climbed down from the horse and waited for Catriona to follow, but her legs were tangled in her heavy, sopping-wet skirts, and she struggled to swing her leg over to dismount.
Grabbing her about the waist, the black-eyed man hauled her off of the animal and deposited her onto the ground in one smooth move. It brought her mind back to her arrival at Liam’s home. But this time, the touch of strong hands around her waist did not fill her with surprising feelings of warmth and longing. Instead there was only dread at what was to come.
She was led to the large entry where the black-eyed man pounded heavily on the door. The small group of men huddled together in a tight group, all eager to get inside out of the storm.
The leader pounded again, and the door was soon
opened, by a short timid young girl. She could have been no more than twelve.
“Aye, sir?” she asked. Her voice was so quiet, Catriona was barely able to hear her over the howling wind.
“Tell Macnaghten that he has guests,” the black-eyed man told her as he shoved past the girl into the hall. “And tell him that I have something he is going to want very much.”
* * *
Catriona stood just inside the doorway of the keep, shivering so hard that her teeth rattled from the tremors as her soaked clothing dripped onto the floor in the entryway.
“What in blazes is this?”
Catriona turned in the direction of the raised voice to see a short portly man come barreling toward them with a thunderous expression on his face.
“What are ye and yer men doing here? And who the devil is she?”
“Laird Macnaghten,” the dark-eyed man said. “I've brought ye a gift. May I introduce ye to Catriona Drummond, youngest daughter of Laird Ewan Drummond.”
At the sound of her name Laird Macnaghten’s face faded from bright red to deathly pale, and his hands curled into tight fists at his sides.
“What is she doing here?” he asked in a strangled voice.
“I thought ye might find some use for her.”
Macnaghten shot a withering stare at her captor.
“Ye blundering, half-witted fool!” he shouted. “Ye risk bringing her here on a damned whim? Take her, quickly before anyone sees!”
Catriona let out a cry as she was suddenly grabbed by many hands, including one firm hand that was placed over her mouth.
Laird Macnaghten stepped forward until he was toe-to-toe with the black-eyed man. The fact that the Laird was a good few inches shorter seemed to make no difference. He looked at Catriona’s captor at though he were no more significant than the muck on the bottom of the Laird’s shoe, with none of the fear that she nor the other men had of the group’s leader.
“I should have ye whipped for this Gavin, and if ye dinna watch yerself, I still might. Now bring her.” He turned sharply and led them into the keep. “I need some time to sort out how to best deal with yer mess.”
Gavin grabbed Catriona roughly by the arm and yanked her out of the grips of the other men.
“Wait for me here,” he snapped at them, before following behind Macnaghten.
So the devil had a name after all.
Catriona glanced at the man Macnaghten had called Gavin out of the corner of her eye. How odd it was to now have a name for him, and one that made him seem all too human at that. With eyes as cold and as black as his, he had seemed more creature than man on their journey. It was strange seeing him take orders from anyone, even a Laird. Out in the great expanse of the woods and the darkness of the night, he had seemed to her almost a demon. But now he had a name, and a master whom he obeyed, and seeing these things bolstered Catriona’s confidence. Black eyes or no, Gavin was a man like any other. And from what she could tell, he had made a grave mistake in bringing her here.
She eyed Macnaghten’s back as she was whisked down the hall. This man knew her father, she was certain of it, but was that something she could use to convince him to let her go? He obviously did not want her here. Maybe all hope was not lost after all.
Chapter 17
Liam had ridden out into the night alone as fast as his horse would take him. He had hoped to overtake Catriona on the road before she was able to reach the safety of her father’s home, but somehow he had not caught so much of a glimpse of her.
Wind and rain lashed at his face, but he continued on. He had already lost a day of travel due to the storm. The winds had been too strong, and the roads too treacherous to travel safely, so he had been forced to take shelter until the storm had eased some. By the time he reached Drummond Castle, his ire had built to the point of boiling over. Four days gone now, and he had no way of knowing how his brother fared, or if young Alex was even still alive. If his brother did not make a full and speedy recovery, Drummond would be sure to pay for it with his life.
He galloped up the long road that passed through the expansive grounds that Drummond Castle sat upon and up to the front of the manor house, receiving no more than a passing nod and curious glances from the men standing guard.
“I’m here to speak with Laird Drummond,” he called over the howling of the wind.
One of the men nodded and beckoned Liam to follow him into the mansion.
Maybe Catriona had not yet made it back. It was the only thing that would explain why his arrival was met with no resistance. It was possible that the storm had been too much for her to ride through on her own, and she was still sheltered somewhere waiting for it to pass so that she could continue on her travels safely.
Liam had been battered by rain, but he paid his soaking-wet clothes no mind, even as he left great puddles in his wake while making his way through the mansion until he was led to Laird Drummond’s library.
Laird Drummond’s clansman knocked lightly on the door and waited patiently until they finally heard Drummond’s voice call, “Enter,” from the other side of the door.
The clansman opened the door to show Liam inside.
“Laird MacDonell to see ye, Laird Drummond.”
Laird Drummond gave a nod, and with that, his guide took his leave.
“Where is she?” Liam demanded as way of greeting as he stormed into Drummond’s library. “Where is that treacherous daughter of yers I must now call ‘wife’?”
Drummond sat back in his chair and rested his folded hands on his stomach.
“Lost her already, have ye? Well, now, that was rather careless,” the older man boomed.
“Ye think this is a joke, Drummond? Ye force me to marry yer daughter, and ye set men to destroy my land. To kill my people! Is it war ye’re after? Because I’d be more than happy to oblige ye!” Liam laid a hand on the hilt of his sword, and he heard a sharp intake of breath come from the corner of the large room.
Liam whirled round to discover that the two men were not alone as he had first assumed, but in fact, Laird Drummond’s two other daughters had been reading quietly in the corner the entire time.
Their books fell to their laps, forgotten, and they stared at him with mingled expressions of shock, confusion, and fear on their faces.
“Those are some very serious accusations ye’ve laid against me, lad,” Laird Drummond said, sitting up straight in his chair and placing his clasped hands on the ornately carved wood desk in front of him. Do ye have any proof of these things?”
“Proof?” Liam spat.
“Aye, proof. Ye come in here, shouting about war with yer hand on yer hilt and yer head so far up yer own arse it’s a wonder ye made it to my door at all without getting lost on the road out there. So I ask ye, Liam MacDonell, what proof do ye have for these things ye accuse me of?”
Liam stared the man down, and his rage grew as he realized that Drummond was right. While every bone in his body told him that the man was behind it, he had no hard evidence to lay at the man’s feet.
“Tis all too convenient,” he said finally. “The growing thefts on my land forced me to come to ye for help, and when I turned down your demands to marry one of yer daughters, I somehow found myself forced into it anyway mere hours later. And now these reavers have burned down houses and set upon my youngest brother. He barely made it back to us alive. And if that is not damning enough, Catriona has now run off, to come back here and warn ye, no doubt, that I was on my way here to see justice done.”
Laird Drummond had listened to Liam’s tirade with an expression of little more than mild annoyance until the second mention of his daughter, when the man suddenly went very pale as all the blood drained from his face.
“Catriona has run off?” Laird Drummond asked, “Truly?”
“Aye, and I was only a few hours behind her but did not overtake her on the road.” He saw the concern on Drummond’s face, and released the hilt of his sword and relaxed his stance. The man look truly concerned.
“Did she not make it back here?” he asked, suddenly feeling a concern of his own. Whether Catriona had betrayed him or not, he did not like the idea of her being lost outside in that storm.
“I swear I have not seen or spoken to my daughter since the morning after the two of ye were wed.”
“What about your other daughters?” Liam asked, turning to the two young women. “Have either of ye seen Catriona?”
The girls shook their heads no, and a tight burning knot of fear began to grow in Liam’s stomach.
“Speak up!” Laird Drummond roared, surging to his feet. “If ye’ve heard from yer sister, ye will tell me now and tell me true. I don’t care where ye may have hidden the lass away, so long as ye tell me where she is at once!”
His two daughters jumped in fright and stared wide-eyed at their father.
“We have not seen her,” the eldest said firmly, holding her father’s gaze. “We are not hiding her anywhere.”
Brigid, Laird Drummond’s redheaded daughter’s gaze flickered to Liam’s for the briefest of moments before replying, “I have not seen her, da, I swear it. Neither of us have.”
“Blast and damnation!” Laird Drummond circled around the tables and headed for the library door. “Aileen, come with me. We must form a search party to find yer sister. Help me rouse the men. I’ll not have my daughter cold and out alone on this godforsaken night. Hurry up, lass!”
Laird Drummond barreled past Liam and was out the door before he even had a chance to speak.
Brigid followed after her sister, but at the last moment Liam reached out quickly and grabbed her firmly by the upper arm.
“What are ye not telling me, lass?” he asked quietly.
Brigid narrowed her eyes and regarded him coolly.
“I dinna know what ye mean. Now kindly unhand me,” she told him, and tried to tug her arm out of his grip, but Liam would not release her.
Highland Promise: The Daughters of Clan Drummond Page 11