Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle

Home > Romance > Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle > Page 91
Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle Page 91

by Victoria Vane


  The air squeezed from Arabella’s lungs. Her hand fell at her side as she grasped the meaning of their words.

  “That is why you must not tell her,” Elena urged.

  Mairi grumbled, “But ’tis not right.”

  The frigid wind chilled Arabella to the bone. A swell of anger crashed over her, dragging her down into a deep abyss. Her stance rigid, she closed her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms, and stepped inside the doorway.

  “Tell me what?” She spoke through clenched teeth.

  Elena and Mairi wheeled around, their features aghast.

  “Arabella,” Mairi cried.

  “Now wait, lass.” Elena started toward her. “’Tis not what you think.”

  Arabella threw up a hand to halt the older woman. “For once, just tell me the truth. What dowry?”

  Both women had the good grace to look sheepish.

  “Your uncle…” Elena swallowed. “Hammish…well, over the years, he held a dowry for you at your mother’s bequest.”

  When the older woman hesitated, Arabella prompted. “And?”

  “Before Calum left for England, your uncle offered him the rich holding if he agreed to wed you. ’Twas part of the marriage contract he drew up with Calum.”

  Strength fled from Arabella’s limbs, and she slumped against the wooden frame for support. She squeezed her eyes shut against a wave of nausea as betrayal soured her stomach.

  “But that’s not why he married you,” Elena quickly added, as though the words made a difference.

  Seething in anger, she opened her eyes to glare at Elena. “Then why did he?”

  “Because he loves you,” Elena insisted.

  “Love?” she practically spat.

  ’Twas not love, but greed. He’d sought her hand solely to gain a dowry she’d no knowledge even existed. His actions, the words he’d spoken to her, had none of it meant anything to him? She trusted him, cared for him. By God, she loved him and he betrayed her. After everything, how could Calum do this to her?

  Christ, when would she stop playing the fool?

  To the devil with the lot of them.

  Close to splintering into a thousand pieces, she spun away from the doorway.

  Mairi followed close on her heels. “Arabella, wait. Let me explain.”

  “Leave me alone,” she shouted over her shoulder and ran to the only place she might find a bit of solitude.

  She pushed her way through the forest, heedless of the twigs and branches scraping her face and neck. Frigid air burned her lungs with each drag of breath. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she pressed her legs to carry her faster. Tears streamed from her eyes, blurring her vision. When it felt as if her legs might fail her, the wood parted to reveal the sanctuary she sought. With the last of her strength, she surged ahead but she tripped over a tree branch.

  Arabella pitched forward and flew through the air. Throwing her arms out to break her fall, she landed on the hard-packed earth with a jarring smack. Pain jolted up her right arm, and the limb refused to support her weight. Her chin slammed into the ground, rattling every tooth in her head. Sobbing, she rolled onto her back and tucked her throbbing wrist to her chest.

  Sore and aching, she squinted at a canopy of leaves dappled against the blue sky overhead. The faint hue resembled her deceitful husband’s eyes. She lifted her uninjured arm to cover her face, blocking the wretched reminder from sight. Sprawled in the dirt, she panted for air while pain stabbed through her wrist and heart alike.

  ’Twas over. Her illusion of happiness had shattered. She had naught left in her any longer. The will to fight, a desire to try—’twas all gone. Hollowed emptiness spread in her chest, leaving her numb and cold.

  The rustle of leaves announced someone’s approach, and Arabella resisted the urge to bang her head against the ground in frustration. Of course, ’twas Mairi. God forbid the woman give her a moment’s peace to sort through the chaos in her mind.

  “Are you all right?” Concern weighed heavy in Mairi’s hesitant voice.

  Perhaps if Arabella ignored her she’d just go away but, then again, that would be too simple.

  Mairi crouched beside her. “What happened? Your chin’s bleeding.”

  Arabella heaved an exasperated sigh and dropped her arm on the ground with a thud. “I fell.”

  Mairi jumped to her feet and disappeared from sight. Rending fabric followed by splashing mingled with the gurgle of the waterfall. Within moments, Mairi returned to kneel beside her, dangling a wet scrap of cloth in front of her face.

  “Here.” Mairi pressed the linen to Arabella’s chin, and then settled back on her knees.

  Arabella lifted her injured arm and winced. Her wrist had swollen and throbbed painfully. She tucked her arm against her chest but made no motion to rise. Frankly, she was too weary to move.

  She met Mairi’s watchful gaze. “Why did he not tell me?”

  “I do not know.” After a long pause, Mairi added, “’Twas not why he married you.”

  “Is that so?” she replied sardonically.

  “Saints, Arabella. Calum’s not some villain who set out to deceive you.”

  “But he did.” Anger shook her voice.

  Mairi huffed in annoyance. “Would you at least try to be reasonable?”

  If her blasted arm was not aching, she would’ve smacked the woman in the face. “I am being reasonable. He lied to me. He made me believe he…”

  “Loves you?” Mairi supplied.

  Arabella closed her eyes as a sharp pang pierced what was left of her heart. “’Twas folly for me to believe him. He’s no better than others who’ve sought my hand for a price. At least they had the courage to admit so.”

  Mairi bolted up to her knees with her fists dug into her waist. Anger slashed across her features as she loomed over Arabella.

  “Do not compare him to those arses. My brother is no such man, and you know it. By the Saints, he did not even want the blasted dowry.”

  Arabella opened her mouth to speak, but Mairi pointed an accusing finger in her face.

  “Aye, that’s right. Calum told your uncle he did not want the land, but Hammish insisted. If you had waited for me and Elena to explain, then mayhap you would not be lying flat of your back rolling in the dirt like some breeding sow.”

  Stunned, she gaped at the woman who just likened her to a pig.

  “Look, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know Calum is carrying a heavy burden, caring for his clan. A clan which you are now a part of, I might add. Even if he had accepted your uncle’s offer willingly, what does it truly matter?” Mairi sank back on her heels, resting her hands on her knees. “Please believe me when I say he did not wed you for a blasted piece of land. I’ve never seen my brother as happy as he is with you. Calum loves you, Arabella. Do you not care for him at least a little?”

  Arabella stared at the tree limbs overhead as tears swam in her eyes. If what Mairi said was true, then why did he not tell her? Did he think she would refuse him if she learned the truth? Inwardly, she cringed. Aye, ’tis precisely what she would’ve done.

  She blew out a harsh breath. “I love him.”

  Mairi snorted. “Well then. Get your arse up and let’s head back to the keep. The sooner you and Calum speak, the better.”

  Mairi grabbed her injured arm and Arabella cried out.

  The other woman snatched her hand away. “What? What’s amiss?”

  “I was felled by a wretched piece of wood.”

  She laughed at the ridiculous statement, while Mairi stared at her as though she’d taken a blow to the head.

  “I think I merely wrenched my wrist when I fell.” She sat upright, careful not to bump her arm.

  Mairi rose to her feet and bent forward, wrapping her arms around Arabella’s back. “We’ll pay a visit to Elena on our way back.”

  Once Arabella managed to stand, she cradled her sore wrist against her stomach. By the Saints, nature must despise her. First, moss. Now tree branches. S
he opened her mouth to mutter a complaint to Mairi, but her friend raised her hand for silence.

  Distant thumps grew into thunderous roars along with a snap and crash of limbs. As four mounted warriors tore through the forest and headed for them, she threw an alarmed glance at Mairi, who stared in shock.

  “Grab them,” one rider shouted over the clamor.

  Mairi’s surprise melted into a look of pure rage. She forcefully tugged Arabella’s gown.

  “Run!”

  She wasted no time doing as her friend bid. The two of them charged around the men and ran for the keep. Despite the ache in her arm, a healthy measure of fear pushed her onward. Her heart hammered in her chest as she forced her legs to carry her faster, desperate to reach the safety of the keep—to reach Calum.

  They broke through the forest and raced over open pasture. There, in the distance, was the village and keep. Just a bit further, she told herself, over and over, as her greedy lungs dragged in breath.

  Mairi’s piercing scream rent the air, raising the hair at Arabella’s nape. She threw a glance over her shoulder to see her friend fighting in earnest with her captor. The grip of terror squeezed her chest and her step faltered. She nearly pitched head first but caught herself, struggling to gain speed as she fled for help. ’Twas the only way to save Mairi.

  Suddenly, a rider blocked her escape and she smacked into a solid bulk of horseflesh. She stumbled backward but managed to say on her feet. Her gaze darted to the rider and dread roiled in her stomach. Bile rose in her throat when she recognized one of Longford’s men.

  A knowing grin spread across his lip and she scrambled backward, but not quickly enough. The soldier reached down and snagged her injured wrist. Pain seared up her arm and she shrieked in agony. Black dots swam before her vision, threatening to drag her under. She struggled against the darkness closing in, but to no avail. She stumbled over her own feet, and the man hauled her over his saddle in front of him. Brute force knocked the air from her lung as she roughly landed on her stomach. Robbed of strength, she surrendered and allowed blackness to claim her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  WITH A PARRY, deflect, and thrust, the tip of Calum’s sword rested against the column of Patrick’s neck.

  Audibly swallowing, his friend pushed the sharpened edge away with his fore and middle fingers. “You’re relentless this morn.”

  “I suppose I’m simply exhilarated by the day.” Calum lowered his weapon.

  Patrick snorted. “By your new bride, you mean.”

  Unashamed of the truth, he laughed. “Aye, ’tis probably true.”

  Patrick sheathed his blade and slapped away dirt from his braies. “Probably? Oh, I’m sure of it.”

  Amused, Calum passed off his sword to one of his men and grabbed a skin of water for a long drink. His old friend had the right of it. Somehow, the day seemed much brighter and full of promise since he’d awoken beside Arabella. He smiled remembering her mumbled words before she fell into a deep slumber. ’Twas a sheer testament of strength to leave her side that morn. Even now, he plotted a means to escape his duties and return to his wife.

  His bellowed name pulled him from his musing. He spun around to see his Elena cut a direct path for him. Heedless of the warriors sparring around her, she picked up her skirts and rushed around the men. Her stricken features abated his good humor in a flash. Unconcerned of others’ stares, he ran the remaining distance to reach her.

  “What is it? What’s amiss?”

  Elena grasped her chest while panting to catch her breath. After several deep pulls of air, she managed to speak. “’Tis Arabella…me and Mairi…” Her chest rose and fell. “Arabella overheard us speaking of the dowry.”

  Hell.

  “How did you find out?” As soon as the question left his lips, he cursed. Fraser. He waved away her attempt to explain. “Where is she?”

  “She ran off before I could explain. Mairi went after her.” Elena grabbed his forearm. “I’m worried, Calum. Arabella was so upset.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. Christ, he should’ve known Fraser would not keep his damned gob shut. When did the man ever? The old fool gossiped more than a woman.

  Saints, what must Arabella think? He shifted from foot to foot before kicking at the ground, wishing he could kick his own arse instead. Why did he continue to ruin things between them? Hell, would she ever trust him again after this?

  His dropped his hand. “Where have they gone?”

  “I do not know.” Elena shook her head. “They ran into the forest, north of my cottage.”

  The waterfall.

  ’Twas the only place she might’ve fled. He wheeled around and nearly smacked into Patrick. He met his friend’s solemn stare.

  “What can I do?” Patrick offered.

  “You and Liam grab your mounts and follow me.”

  Patrick nodded and hurried away in search of Liam.

  Not waiting for the pair, Calum bolted for the stables and made short work of saddling his stallion. His mind spun with a hundred different ways to make amends with his wife, though none seemed remotely adequate. He scrubbed a hand over his face in exasperation. Of course, he’d dismissed Sean and Gavin of their duties the previous day. Now, because of his own carelessness, his wife and sister were outside the keep—alone and unprotected.

  If something happened to either of them…

  “Any notion where they’ve gone?” Liam’s query jarred Calum from his grim thoughts.

  “Aye, let’s go.” Calum vaulted into his saddle.

  Spurring his mount on, he galloped from the stables and through the courtyard with Liam and Patrick close behind. Desperate to find Arabella and Mairi, he led the two men across freshly reaped fields and browning pasture into the woods. With an adept sense of his surroundings, he steered the men along a twisting course until they reached the remote patch of forest. Once they entered the glade, a twinge of foreboding stabbed in Calum’s gut.

  He leaped from his stallion and scanned the area. “Where are they?”

  “Christ, I’d forgotten this place.” Liam spoke with a note of disbelief.

  Calum ignored his kin and strode across the clearing, searching the forest floor for any sign of the two women.

  “Calum, here.”

  Patrick’s shout snagged his attention. He hastened to his friend’s side where he knelt. Calum’s hand shook as he plucked the scrap of cloth from Patrick’s palm. Upon closer inspection, air rushed from his lungs and his heart plummeted to his feet.

  Blood.

  Dread crept up his spine. He crushed the bit of fabric in his fist and redoubled his efforts, scouring the forest floor for anything out of place. When he came upon the telling marks of torn earth, a vise gripped his chest in a tight squeeze, threatening to drop him to his knees.

  A born tracker, Patrick crouched beside him, examining the ground. “Looks to be four riders.” He straightened and followed the disturbed patches across the glade. “The tracks lead out into the forest. Follow me.”

  The three of them mounted their horses and retraced the riders’ tracks through the dense woods and out into a sheep pasture. Patrick raised his hand, drawing them to a halt, and dismounted. With knit brows, he sank down on his haunches and studied the trampled brush and torn earth.

  “There was a struggle.” Patrick rose to his feet, paced ahead, scanning the tracks, and then pointed. “The tracks head north.”

  Christ, he knew it with every ounce of his being. “Longford has them.”

  If Liam or Patrick spoke, he did not hear them over the incessant ringing in his ears. His eyes squeezed shut as fear dug its talons deep. He gripped the pommel as the sting of bile rose in his throat.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Aye,” he croaked.

  Liam’s curse split the air. His horse sidestepped, but he brought the animal under control. “Then we ride.”

  Patrick swung into the saddle and they raced for the keep. The thunder of
hooves pounded in Calum’s ears as his mind reeled. Where had Longford taken Arabella and Mairi, and how the devil was he to find them? Curse after curse hurtled through his head. Christ, he had to get them back.

  Once they reached the village, Liam and Patrick broke off toward the camps, while Calum galloped through the bailey, ignoring the alarmed stares of his clan, and reined his mount near the keep’s front steps. At the foot of the staircase, Elena stood side by side with Fraser. The two wore matching frowns.

  “Any word?” he called out.

  Eyes downcast, Fraser shook his head. “They have not returned.”

  Calum threw his leg over the saddle and slid down onto his feet to sag against his stallion’s side. The weight of his loss hung around his shoulders, dragging him deeper into despair.

  “Longford has them.” The words tumbled out of him in a garbled rush.

  Genuine shock flitted across Fraser’s features. “What? How?”

  “I do not know,” Calum said. “But I would wager my life on it.”

  Rage flared in Fraser’s mossy gaze. “Assemble your men. I’ll see to mine. ’Tis a blessing many of our allies are here. They will aid us.”

  Fraser swiped the tears from Elena’s eyes and bent to kiss her cheek. He stepped in front of Calum and laid a firm hand on his shoulder. “We will get them back. I vow it, lad.”

  Without another word, his ally donned the mantle of laird, barking out orders to his commander, like the seasoned warrior he was. For long moments, Calum stood rooted the spot, envious of Fraser’s cool composure. In a fog, he watched a flurry of activity go on around him in the courtyard, but he could not force his limbs to move. Dread close to crippling him, one thought flared in his mind.

  What if he failed his wife and sister?

  Just as he had his father.

  He lifted a hand to rub at the ache in his chest. This time, his heart would not survive the loss.

  “Calum!”

  Liam’s shout jarred him into movement. He spun to find his cousin and commanders barreling straight for him. No doubt, their daunting scowls did not boast good tidings.

  “I have news.” A steely glint blazed in Liam’s gaze.

  “Tell me,” Calum commanded.

 

‹ Prev