Return of the Rogue

Home > Other > Return of the Rogue > Page 25
Return of the Rogue Page 25

by Donna Fletcher


  “I’ll get it,” Lachlan said.

  “No, I know where I left it. I’ll only be a moment,” Honora said, and hurried back into the stable. She retrieved her cloak from the barrel she’d draped it across and stopped at the open door, securing the warm cloak around her shoulders and watching with delight as Lachlan ran in play with the two pups.

  She went to join him, and that was the last thing she remembered before everything turned dark.

  Lachlan burst into the great hall with two yapping dogs at his heels.

  Cavan was about to tease him when he saw the distraught look on his face and realized his wife was nowhere in sight.

  “I can’t find Honora,” Lachlan said. “She was there one moment and gone the next. She went to retrieve her cloak from the stable. I was outside only a few feet away with the pups. I saw her standing in the doorway, putting on her cloak. I was distracted by the pups only a moment, and when I looked back, she was gone. I ran to the stable but she was nowhere to be seen.”

  “Did you search elsewhere?” Artair asked.

  “Behind the stable, the edge of the woods, but there was nothing, not even foot marks to follow. I can’t believe she could disappear so fast. It was only a moment. I was right there, a few feet away.”

  Cavan, his brothers, and Addie, who refused to be left behind, went in search of Honora. After a short time the whole village was searching for her. The villagers had grown to love Honora and were concerned for her safety.

  Cavan was beside himself with his wife’s disappearance, but sensed what the villagers must be thinking. If the laird’s wife could so easily be snatched away, how safe was the clan? He knew that his wife’s abduction had nothing to do with the clan’s safety. It had to do with her stepfather’s ambitions, and more than likely plans that had been fermenting long before he himself returned home.

  So far he could make no sense of it, but perhaps if the clan knew of Calum’s deceit, they could be of some help, and so the truth was circulated and Cavan waited.

  He retreated to his solar; he had to or else it seemed he would explode. His anger was so great, he wanted to rage and rant and pound on someone. He wanted his wife back safe and sound, in his arms, in his bed. He wanted to tell her he loved her, cherished her.

  Lord, why hadn’t he told her that he loved her?

  He would move heaven and hell to get her back. No matter what it took, even if it meant his own life, he would see her safe.

  Cavan plopped down in his father’s chair behind the desk which was now his and planting his elbows at the edge, dropped his head into his hands. He felt completely lost. He wanted to ride out and find his wife yet, knew that wasn’t the way to go about it. He had to send out men, hunt down tracks, and make plans, and all the while his wife could be suffering.

  He pounded his desk with his fist and wanted to roar, but instead walked out of the solar.

  “Has Calum been found?” he asked, joining his brothers outside, where snow was falling, dusting the land.

  “No one has seen him,” Artair said solemnly. “And now with this damn snow—”

  “Tracks will be covered fast enough,” Lachlan finished. “Though we had men out before the first flake fell so hopefully we will have news soon.”

  “It had to be Calum,” Cavan said, pacing in front of the steps of the keep.

  “I know you’re anxious to ride out—”

  Cavan interrupted Artair abruptly. “That would be foolish.”

  Artair and Lachlan exchanged glances, though they remained silent.

  “I could go in one direction while he takes my wife in another. And tell me why our border guards did not see them?” Cavan snapped as he paced.

  “A question we’re trying to answer,” Artair said.

  “Why did he take her?” Cavan asked, stopping abruptly. “I can’t make sense of it. What does he want with her? Was it a sudden decision or planned?”

  He turned to stare off in the distance, the snow falling heavier and the sky turning dark. He looked to the fading heavens and raised an angry fist.

  “Hear me, Honora, I will come for you. Stay strong. I will come for you.”

  Honora woke, her head aching and spinning simultaneously. She blinked several times to clear her vision and stared at the starless, night sky. At first she thought the clouds rushed past the partial moon but then realized she was the one moving.

  A sudden bump in the road jolted her and the cart she lay in, and she winced from the pain that resonated in her head. She raised a trembling hand to the back of her head, felt a sizable bump and shivered. Not from the tender spot, but from the snow that fell, covering the light blanket that looked to have been carelessly tossed over her. She imagined she had traveled a distance from the keep, and hoped they had yet to leave Sinclare land, for that would mean there was still a chance of a rescue tonight.

  She knew her husband would come; she had no doubt of it, and it would be up to her to survive until he did.

  “Good, you’ve woken just in time.”

  She titled her head back to stare up at her stepfather, not at the reins, but seated beside the driver. She chose to remain silent in hopes that he would explain.

  “Finally, you know your place, silent until I dictate otherwise,” Calum said sternly. “I have raised you well.”

  Honora wisely held her tongue, though she would have much preferred to ask why, then, had he abducted her from Cavan? Hadn’t their marriage already furthered his ambitions?

  “You served as the perfect pawn.” He grinned. “And now you will serve your true lord and master—the man you shall wed once Cavan is dead.”

  His remark startled her heart, and she quickly had to remind herself that Cavan was far too intelligent and a brave warrior to let the likes of Calum lead to his demise. Her stepfather was simply attempting to frighten her and bring her under control once again. She had to remain strong in the knowledge that she knew her husband far better than Calum.

  “Good obedience,” Calum said confidently. “Your new husband will expect that from you at all times.”

  She couldn’t imagine who he spoke of, and she was curious. Who was this fool who would join forces with her father and believe they could defeat Clan Sinclare?

  A bone-chilling cold crept over her body that had nothing to do with the snow that continued to fall. There was only one tribe, one person, who would dare try to defeat Cavan, and perhaps that was because he had already done so once.

  Mordrac.

  Honora trembled. It couldn’t be possible. Her father could not have been insane enough to join forces with the barbarian leader Mordrac. And why first wed her to the leader of the Sinclare clan if all the while his intention had been for her to wed Mordrac?

  Answers would be forthcoming, for she would not rest until she uncovered the whole of her stepfather’s evil doings.

  “I can see by that fixed glare in your eyes that you’re thinking, searching for answers as you did so often when you were a child, though you were, as you are now, too stupid to understand anything. In time, daughter, you’ll get only the answers I deem necessary. Presently, it is time for strict obedience, not curiosity.”

  Calum turned away from her as the cart began to ascend a steep incline and she began to worry. The steepest mountains weren’t on Sinclare land, and that meant more time had passed than she had hoped. In all likelihood, this climb and then the descent would place them in barbarian territory.

  The blanket was suddenly snatched off.

  “I’ve had my fill of keeping the snow off of you so that I don’t present a corpse to your future husband. See to your care yourself now or you will feel the back of my hand.”

  Honora complied. It would have been foolish of her not to. Her situation called for a clear head and planned action. She had to let Calum think that she was once again his docile daughter. And while the thought made her sick, it also brought a small smile to her face.

  She wasn’t afraid. She had spent so many years
being afraid of Calum, and never thought there would ever be a day when she wasn’t. However, little by little, with the help of Cavan and his endless lessons, she had not only learned how to protect herself, but gained confidence in doing so.

  Of course, she was no match for a tribe of barbarians, or against her stepfather while weaponless. What she needed to do was prepare for Cavan’s rescue and aid him in any way she could.

  It certainly would be a challenge, but if she succeeded, she would be forever free of Calum. When she was young, she had wished and prayed that her mother would one night sneak away from him, but it was more a dream than anything. There was no place for them to go. They would have been homeless if they hadn’t remained with Calum.

  So she watched her mother suffer year after year, all so that they could have a roof over their head and food in their stomachs. And when her mother took ill and knew she would die, she had told her to obey Calum until she finally wed a good man, and then would be free. She would be free for them both.

  A few tears fell from her eyes before Honora realized she was crying. Though few, the tears were painful. They always were when she thought of her mother. She wiped them away quick enough, not wanting Calum to see them.

  She would free herself, and then she would do what her mother had advised. She would live her life with a good husband who loved her.

  She blinked back tears and silently prayed.

  I promise I will be ready to help you when you rescue me, Cavan. I promise, and know how very much I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you…

  She closed her eyes and allowed her litany to flow out into the night and drift along so her words would reach her husband and he would know that she waited for him.

  Cavan stood on the battlement, snow covering his hair and his fur cloak. It was very late, and so far there had been no word about his wife. Two more warriors had yet to return, and if they brought no news…

  He shook his head, looking up at the night sky. Nothing would stop him from finding her. Nothing. He had been giving thought to all that had happened since his return, and recalled something he and his wife had discussed. It seemed that since his return, barbarians raids on surrounding clans had increased. It had even been the topic of gossip, with some implying that perhaps he’d had something to do with it.

  Someone had, but not him. That left just one likely candidate. Calum. And that left only one likely scenario. Calum had befriended the barbarians, and more than likely had taken Honora to the barbarian stronghold over the mountains, to disappear into their territory.

  Cavan was caught off guard by a sudden splash of warm wind that all but kissed his cheek yet sent a decisive chill through him, and he thought he heard a whisper. It had been faint but he could have sworn he had heard it.

  He braced his hands on the edge of the stones that forged the battlements and sent the same message on the strong cold wind to his wife.

  “I love you, Honora. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  Chapter 34

  Honora stood defiant when presented to Mordrac, leader of the barbarian tribe. This was the man who had made her husband suffer brutally. It had been his cruel hand that inflicted the numerous scars not only on Cavan’s back, but on his soul. She could not with good conscience play the submissive, frightened female.

  “Bow your head,” Calum whispered harshly with a yank to her wrist.

  She snatched free of him and held her head high, though wisely kept silent. What she wished to say would only damage her chances of escape. While she wouldn’t appear docile, she also wouldn’t appear completely insolent.

  Besides, Mordrac wasn’t a man to offend. His cruelty was obvious in his dark eyes and in the folds of his frowning brow. His square jaw jutted out and his thin pinched lips warned of a man who forever brooded. His brown hair was long and streaked with considerable gray. He towered over all the men and was broad and firm in body, muscles bulging around a gold cuff that hugged his arm.

  He shocked Honora when he first spoke to her.

  “Tell me you carry the laird of Clan Sinclare’s child. I want him to know that I will be the one to raise his child as a barbarian before I kill him.”

  Honora smirked, though his remark dug at her heart. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  Mordrac turned on Calum. “I gave you plenty of time for her to get with child.”

  While Calum tried to appease the raging barbarian, Honora watched, seemingly indifferent, though her worries mounted. She had only recently realized that there was a good chance she was carrying Cavan’s child. A week or two more…She almost shook her head, but caught herself. She didn’t need any more time. She knew without a doubt she was with child. She didn’t know what had kept her from telling Cavan about it.

  Again she almost shook her head. She knew why she hadn’t told him. She wanted to hear him say that he loved her. She wanted to know for certain that their child had been conceived from love, not duty.

  Now she had not only herself to protect, but her unborn babe. She would never allow the barbarian to raise her child. Her child was a Sinclare and would grow and flourish on Sinclare land with his family, alongside a father who would love him dearly.

  Calum leaned in close to her. “You fool. I told you to do your duty.”

  “Did I foil your plans, Father?” she asked sarcastically.

  She should have been prepared, should have known he would retaliate. The blow was severe and sent her tumbling to the ground, her jaw throbbing madly.

  Mordrac laughed along with the young woman beside him. Honora managed to look at her as she struggled to stand, and was taken by her beauty. though she was obviously as cruel as Mordrac. She wasn’t very tall, rather slim to the point of being petite. Her blond hair fell in waves around her face and down over her shoulders to rest upon her full breasts, and her eyes were a brilliant blue like a bright summer’s sky. She was dressed in bright silks and sparkling gems, her slim fingers weighted down with several large rings.

  On her feet now, Honora braced herself as Mordrac advanced, reaching out to grab hold of her throat. “Perhaps I shall give you and Cavan one last moment together before I kill him.”

  She gasped for breath, his grasp growing tighter as he spoke, and at that moment knew she would have to escape. She could not allow her husband to be captured and face death for the sake of protecting her. She and Cavan would either live a good life together or die together, but she would not lose him, especially to this evil man.

  The beautiful blonde had walked to Mordrac’s side and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Easy, Father. You do not want her too damaged before her husband arrives.”

  Mordrac released her instantly and grabbed a tight hold of his daughter’s chin. Honora was surprised that the young woman didn’t flinch, cry out, or even narrow her brow in pain. She simply stood there unaffected by his forceful grasp.

  “Keep your place, daughter,” he warned, then shoved her away.

  She bowed respectfully while backing away, and resumed her place next to Mordrac’s oversized chair.

  Mordrac turned back to Honora. “You will not be held prisoner while here,” he informed her. “There is no escape from this place, and besides, your husband will arrive soon enough and then the games will begin.” She would have corrected him, but didn’t wish to anger Mordrac any further. Besides, she couldn’t be certain this was where Cavan had been held captive. And she needed the promised freedom so she could roam the area and plan the impossible.

  After all, who would have ever thought that she would be the wife of the laird Sinclare, or that she would be happy about her status and even happier that she loved her husband and he her? That had been impossible, barely a dream, and yet here it was a reality, and her escape would be, too.

  Mordrac circled her while his dark eyes took pleasure in examining her from head to toe then back again. She was repulsed by his thorough inspection, the fiery look in his eyes much too intimate. He had no right; only her husband had t
hat right.

  Mordrac addressed his daughter sternly while tugging at Honora’s blouse and skirt with disgust. “Carissa, my future wife resembles a slave in these rags; see that she is dressed appropriately.”

  His daughter bowed to his demand and directed Honora to follow her.

  Calum grabbed her arm tightly, holding her back momentarily. “Behave or you will feel my wrath.”

  She winced when he released her and knew from past experience that his fingers had dug hard enough to bruise her skin. She hurried away from him, to follow Carissa. She wanted to keep a good distance between her and her stepfather, for there was no one there who would protect her.

  Mordrac had grinned when Calum took a hand to her. He actually had followed with his own, near choking the breath from her. She would have no champions here. She only had herself to count on, and the fact that she was with child made her all the more determined to escape.

  Carissa was indifferent to her. She simply carried out her father’s orders, which Honora assumed was a common enough task for the woman. She let Honora know immediately that she was prepared to deal harshly with any attempts to fight her father’s edict.

  “You will be sorry if you do not follow his rule,” Carissa warned sternly.

  Honora had no such intention, though she nodded. She was more interested in fresh clothes and food for her growling stomach, and voiced her appreciation when Carissa provided a bounty of flavors for her. She intended to keep herself strong and well clothed so she would be ready to make her escape when the time came.

  In the morning she would tour the landscape and see what she was up against, and learn more about her enemy, especially her stepfather. She wanted to know one thing.

  Why?

  Why had he done this to her and Cavan?

  Cavan issued orders as soon as he received the news confirming his suspicions. The barbarians had his wife, but worse, she had been taken to Mordrac’s stronghold, a place he knew well.

  “A sizable troop is probably already on their way here,” Cavan advised his brothers while going down on his haunches to trace his finger in the snow.

 

‹ Prev