Fortunately, the unmarred side of her face was toward the man. She hoped he might notice her and come closer so she could ask him to help. Of course, it was a big risk. He might be a worse knave than Blackburn.
But then she heard a woman's voice say, "Who is that girl, just there? She wears fine clothing but sits alone."
"I know not. 'Haps we should find out," the man said.
Thank the saints! Though her heart pounded with tension, Kristina gave a hint of a friendly smile, while also trying to hide the scarred part of her face. A chair scraped across the floor.
"Chief MacCromar, what the devil are you doing all the way out here?" 'Twas the aristocratic man's voice. He knew Blackburn? Nay!
"Chief and Lady Graham, good to see you."
Kristina's hopes fell further and further as she listened to the jovial exchange between the two men.
"Are you well, lass?" Lady Graham asked from what sounded like two feet away.
She faced the woman and shook her head.
"Are you alone? Who are you?"
"Lady Kristina MacQueen." Could she ask this woman for help? Obviously her husband was friends with Blackburn, so likely she would get no help from that quarter. Still, she had to try. She lowered her voice. "I've been taken hostage."
"What?" the woman asked from a closer distance.
"I see you've met my ward," Blackburn announced and moved in behind Kristina's bench. "My sister-in-law. She's a pitiful little thing, but sweet."
Bastard! Kristina wanted no one's pity.
"Good heavens, what happened to her face?" Lady Graham asked.
Kristina narrowed her eyes, wanting to tell her the blackguard behind her had done the deed.
"She got injured in the midst of battle a couple of years ago. Blinded, too. Poor lass," Blackburn said in a grave tone.
What a liar.
Blackburn laid a hand on her shoulder, gripping it too tightly. "We've located my wife and are going now to rescue her and bring her home."
"Oh, that is good news. Your wife disappeared some time ago, did she not?" Laird Graham asked.
"Indeed. Abducted by brigands. Thank the saints, she's fine. We shall have a happy reunion and all will be well."
Blackburn gave her shoulder one final squeeze, then the two men walked away talking. The lady said not another word to her, although Kristina couldn't tell where she'd gone. Blast! Her one and only opportunity to escape was gone.
"Here you are, m'lady," Ralston said. "Roasted venison, cheese, bread and ale. And a napkin for you. I noticed you didn't have a knife so I've already cut up the meat for you."
Her throat tightened and she almost burst into tears, but finally managed to speak. "I thank you for your kindness." He was indeed thoughtful to cut the meat and provide her a napkin, for she often dropped food or made messes.
"My pleasure." Ralston sat down on the opposite side of the table.
After they ate for a few moments, footsteps approached.
"What do you think you're doing?" Red Holme's insidious voice demanded.
A frisson of fear chilled her. Was he talking to her?
"Go eat over there, Ralston. I'm eating with the lady."
"The chief asked me to guard her," Ralston growled.
"I'm your commanding officer and I'm ordering you to eat over there!"
Bastard! Would he not even allow her to eat in peace?
Tension and anger was thick in the air as Ralston arose, took his food and left.
The opposite bench creaked as Holme sat down. "Eat up, Kristina. We're leaving soon."
The disgust and nausea returned, taking her appetite. But she knew she had to eat and maintain her strength. If she grew weak, she wouldn't be able to defend herself.
Ignoring the knave as best she could, she inched her fingers close to the trencher again and found the chunk of bread. It smelled fresh-baked. She picked it up, tore off a bite and pushed it into her mouth. Mayhap it would soothe her roiling stomach.
"Would you like for me to feed you, lass?" Holme snickered.
"Nay. I'm perfectly capable of eating." Even so, she hated when people watched her. Carefully moving her hands, she located a small piece of cheese and put it into her mouth. If it hadn't been such a long time since she'd eaten, she would refuse now. She was famished and didn't know when they would stop to eat again.
Apparently Holme was eating stew, and the scarfing sounds he made reminded her of a pig in a trough.
Trying to put him from her mind, she picked up a sliver of the roasted venison. It was still warm and smelled delicious. She placed it in her mouth and chewed, finding it tender, smoky and flavored with herbs and spices. She savored the tasty morsel.
"Eating like a wee bird, are you, lass?"
Why couldn't the boar mind his own business?
"'Tis too bad you lost your great beauty when your face was cut," he said. "Not so proud and haughty now, are you?" He chuckled with a mouth full of food while he chewed. For the first time, she was glad she couldn't see him. No doubt he looked as disgusting as he sounded.
She had never been haughty; she'd simply refused his advances. Paying him no heed, she drank the ale and ate as quickly as she could, focusing on her own survival and trying to figure out a way to help Anna, rather than become the bait to her capture.
A quarter hour later, Blackburn announced that it was time to travel. Holme left the table and she couldn't tell where he'd gone until she heard him murmuring low to Blackburn. The words were unclear, but a moment later he returned, his boots thudding—she was starting to recognize the distinct sound of them. He grasped her arm and pulled her up.
"The chief has put me in charge of you now, Kristina."
Saints! She suspected her life was about to get even more difficult. Besides that, what had given him the impression he could call her by her given name? They were certainly not friends.
Clamping her teeth together to keep her anger in, she allowed him to lead her from the tavern. She didn't know where Ralston was, but she prayed he was nearby, keeping an eye on Holme.
"Wait," Blackburn said when they were near the horses. "Kristina, I saw what you did in there. Trying to gain help from Lady Graham. If you attempt to talk to anyone else, you'll regret it. Once I have Anna back—and I will have her back—I'll beat her senseless and make you listen. Do you understand me? Anything you do to escape me will only cause your sister more pain."
Kristina felt the blood drain from her face. Ice water flooded her veins. She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. Blackburn knew well how to control her, for she would do anything to keep her sister safe.
Chapter Three
Red Holme eyed the blind lass riding beside him. 'Twas bizarre that she could ride a horse and not see where she was going. He was holding the bridle, but still… he was not entirely certain she couldn't see a little. Sometimes it seemed as if she was staring at him… straight into his eyes and into his soul. It felt unnatural.
He snorted, laughing at himself for the ridiculous thoughts.
Despite the scar on her face, Kristina still roused keen lust in him, as she always had. He yearned to wrap those long blond curls around his fingers and hold her down so he could take her any way and every way possible.
But from the first time he'd met her, she had treated him like bog scum. How snobbish she'd been, her nose upturned like a princess, golden earrings dangling from her ears. She still held that regal air, her spine straight as an arrow, but now her fine clothing was splattered with mud, and he saw no gold upon her.
It thrilled him to see her brought down to his level… lower than him, now that she was their hostage and couldn't see besides. He grinned. Somewhere along this trip he would take from her what he wanted. Once he'd humiliated her as she had him, he would be satisfied.
Blackburn didn't care about her beyond what leverage she provided to get his precious wife back. Kristina was naught but a pawn.
Blackburn veered off the trail and toward a grassy f
ield near a loch. "Halt here!"
Holme muttered a curse under his breath. He was sick to death of following Blackburn's orders. The man was a bastard nobody, never meant to be a chief. Holme, on the other hand, was the legitimate son of the former MacKillican chief. But the title and lands of his father had been taken away by the king for a minor infraction. He'd been forced to drop his true name and take on a false one, else be arrested for the part he'd played in the battle more than ten years ago, just before the king had granted the land to another clan.
Holme was the one who was supposed to be a chief, not Blackburn… although of a different clan. Most of the men of the MacKillican clan were either dead or dispersed throughout the countryside. He retained some loyal friends from his own clan who now worked as guards for Blackburn—Dobson, Fordyce, Mungo, and Scroggie. Although the four were fearsome warriors, they were not enough to help him lay siege to Rhodie Castle, and he did not have enough coin to hire more men. Even if he did take back the castle he'd grown up in, the king would send out forces to kill him and anyone who followed him.
Still… sometimes, he would just love to have some revenge, even if it cost him his life. He was starting to realize being some other man's servant was a fate worse than death. His da would think him the lowest of cowards for not at least trying to regain their castle or to seek revenge against the thieves who now held it and who'd killed his da.
After Holme swung down from his horse, he was disappointed to find that Kristina had already dismounted as well. He'd wanted to grasp hold of her and lift her down, mayhap run his hand over her breast.
"Ralston?" Kristina called out.
"Why are you calling him?" Holme was sick of Ralston sticking by her like a leech, getting in his way.
She turned to Holme, one side of her face immaculately beautiful with fair, smooth skin, and the other side marred by a puckered, thick pink line. Her blue eyes were directed toward him, but unfocused. An unnerving chill ran through him.
"I must use the bushes," she said.
Imagining her hiking up her skirts in the middle of the field for everyone to see, Holme chuckled. Aye, he would love to see that. "Come. I'll help you." He clutched her arm.
She struggled to free herself from his hold. "Nay! Unhand me!"
Her forceful, demanding tone only aroused him more, but he released her. There were too many people around now, anyway. "Ralston, aye?" Holme asked. "Did you give him a wee peek earlier? Maybe you wish to drag him off into the bushes for some sport."
Her cheeks reddened. "Don't be ridiculous!"
Young Ralston approached, little more than a lad, 'haps in his early twenties, but he was brawny and strong. 'Twas why Blackburn had hired him. "Is everything all right, m'lady?"
"Nay, 'tis not. I have need of the privacy of the bushes again. Would you help me?"
"Of course. I see some just over there beyond the field. I'll stand guard." He took her hand and placed it around his bent elbow.
"Hold on there, Ralston," Holme said, annoyance spurring him. "She's no longer your charge. Blackburn wishes me to guard her."
The young man's blue eyes turned hard as ice. "You're harassing her and trying to take advantage."
"Is that what you think, wee pup? 'Haps you forgot I far outrank you."
Ralston clenched his jaw. "The chief wishes the lady kept safe until we reach the castle where his wife is being held."
Annoyance rising to the surface, Holme grasped Kristina's other arm. "I'll keep her safe in the bushes. Have no worries."
"Take your hands off her!" Ralston growled.
Dark rage near consumed Holme. "How dare you think to order me about? I am your commander!"
"What's the quarrel about?" Blackburn demanded, storming toward them.
"I'm merely guarding the lady, as you asked." Holme ground his teeth. If Blackburn weren't here, he'd dirk Ralston and be done with it.
"He's harassing her," Ralston said. "Not allowing her privacy to use the bushes."
Holme forced himself to chuckle, despite wanting to run both men through. "You sound like a whiny bairn, Ralston. I have far more experience in protecting ladies than you do."
"I beg of you, chief, allow me to guard her," Ralston said. "I'll keep her safer."
"Very well," Blackburn said. "I want her in good health when we reach Bearach. No bruises or cuts. If I see any on her I'll cut you both down!" Blackburn strode away.
"Watch yourself, Ralston," Holme said through clenched teeth. "You may find a dirk in your back soon." He walked a few steps away, trying to keep his rage under control.
"Come, m'lady." Ralston wrapped her hand around his elbow.
"He is a beast," Kristina hissed in a whisper as Ralston led her away.
Eyes narrowed, Holme watched them walk up the hill toward the bushes at the edge of the field. "Beast, huh?" he muttered, then spat on the ground. He would show her just how much of a beast he could be, no cuts or bruises necessary.
***
After riding for several more hours up and down hills, through the sharp, cold wind, Kristina was almost ready to topple from her horse when Blackburn yelled, "Halt! We make camp here!"
"Thank the saints," she whispered.
She could smell naught but the fresh air and pine forests, nor hear anything except a few birds and the distant roar of a red deer stag. 'Twas obvious to her they were deep in the Highlands now. The autumn air had grown colder, and a light mist hissed through the air. She was thankful she'd had the foresight to put on two layers of her warmest clothing before being taken hostage.
She dismounted and heard Ralston approaching. She'd started to recognize his footsteps, lighter and stealthier than some of the other men. "Where are we? Is there a village close by?"
"Nay," Ralston said. "We're going to camp in this field near the loch."
She was too exhausted to care. She simply wanted to lie down and sleep.
While she made use of the bushes, she felt a rock beneath her leather boot. She picked it up, finding it to be oval shaped, like an egg, except larger—the perfect size to fit into her hand for a weapon. It also fit into her pouch, where she slid it. She still had her knife, but she feared it was not long or sturdy enough to do any damage to a man wearing leather armor, unless she could slit his throat. Not that she wanted to kill anyone, but she did not like the threatening, sinister tone Holme used with her. Who knew when he might get violent with her? Anytime she was near him, she felt tension and aggression emanating from him, especially after he and Ralston had argued.
She stood, straightened her clothing and carefully stepped forward. "Ralston, I'm finished."
After a moment, his footsteps approached, rustling in the grass. "M'lady." He took her arm, then guided her across the field. "If you wish, you can sit on this stone while the men pitch your tent."
Why was he so kind to her when all the other men in this party either were brutes or never spoke to her?
"I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help." Tears pricked her eyes. She didn't know what she would do without him.
"'Tis no bother at all."
She sat, finding the stone about two feet in height, flat on top, and wet from the light mist. 'Twas unfortunate the stone was not large enough to lie down upon. Leaning forward, she rested her head on her folded arms, hoping she wouldn't drop off to sleep and topple to the ground.
She said a prayer of thanks for her continued safety, then prayed for Ralston because he was so considerate, and also for Anna's well-being. Imagining Anna securely ensconced in a castle, she drifted toward sleep.
"M'lady?" Ralston's voice startled her from the drowsy reverie, and she sat up. "You can get into the tent now."
"Sounds heavenly. Will you be sleeping nearby?" she whispered, hoping Holme wouldn't hear her. "I would feel safer if you were."
"Aye, just beside your tent, but I must also take my turn at watch sometime during the night and patrol the perimeter of the camp. But I will keep an eye on your tent."
"I'm so grateful to you." She wanted to give him a reward once this journey was done, but she had little to offer him. Her mother's gold earrings were the only thing of value she had, but she could not give them up.
After he guided her toward the tent, she crawled inside to lie down out of the mist and cold. Pulling the smooth rock from her pouch, she held it in her hand. It gave her a small measure of comfort, like a talisman. She would keep it always to remind her of this arduous journey.
What seemed only moments later, Ralston awoke her to give her a bannock, some roasted rabbit and a cup of fresh, cold water. She must have been asleep for an hour or more without even realizing it, if they'd had time to hunt rabbits and roast them for supper.
Ralston seemed a good man, and she trusted him to protect her while she slept. She liked the fact that she reminded him of his sister, but she was sad that he'd lost her. Mayhap she could be his new sister. She'd always wanted an older brother and had thought she might feel safer if she had one.
Her older sister was near as tough as a man… at least, emotionally she was. Physically, of course, she was petite and had been no match for Blackburn when he'd shoved her down two years prior and caused her to have a miscarriage. He'd wished to kill the former chief's heir before he could be born. The bairn, though, had been a wee lass. No doubt Anna still grieved the terrible loss. How she wished she could be with her sister and embrace her. Tears pricked her eyes and tightened her throat, making it difficult to swallow the food. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "You must grow tough, Kristina," she whispered.
After eating, she became drowsy, lay down amid the blankets and dropped back to sleep. Her bizarre dreams about riding a horse endlessly turned to nightmares, and suddenly her mother appeared before her in a swirl of golden light.
Kristina! Her mother yelled within the dream, her tone alarmed.
Heart pounding, Kristina startled awake to find someone crawling into the tent. "Who are you?"
When no answer came, she sniffed the air and detected Holme's body odor. Panic near stole her breath, but she managed to scream, searching the blanket beside her for the rock she'd dropped during her sleep.
Highlander Entangled Page 3