A Hellish Highlander (Clan Ross Book 3)

by Hildie McQueen

  The man grumbled under his breath, but sat down. His back was reddened, the skin broken in several places. Angry slashes crisscrossed not only his back, but the backs of his arms as well.

  Both Ceilidh and Elspeth made quick work of applying the poultice and then wrapped a bandage around one of his arms where a cut was particularly deep.

  The man thanked them and walked toward the guard quarters to begin the other part of his punishment.

  “They will only be feed water and pottage,” a lead guard said as he walked by. He gave them a warning look. “Nothing else.”

  Elspeth placed her hands on both hips. “We will hope they will not be required to defend our home, because they will be too weak.”

  The man didn’t reply. Instead, he continued on toward the guard quarters.

  “This is ridiculous,” Elspeth said, hurrying toward the house. Ceilidh had to practically run to keep up with her.

  “Wh-where are ye going?” Ceilidh asked, trying to keep up.

  “To speak to Malcolm. The men have been whipped and will be on restriction. They will eat what everyone else does.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ethan

  If he were inclined to seduce a woman, it would definitely be one like the rebellious woman who stared him down. Even tied to a tree, she emanated defiance and lack of fear. It was a front, of course, by the slight tremble to her bottom lip. But nonetheless, she was formidable.

  Ethan spit on the ground, his saliva mixed with blood. The insolent wench had head-butted him when he’d neared to try to give her a drink. Ethan studied her for a moment longer.

  He had to admit, of all the brothers, Kieran had chosen the best woman. Now it would be his pleasure to, once again, cause him great pain. Kieran Ross would be present to witness the death of his beautiful love. It would serve him right. It would serve everyone right for underestimating him.

  “Ye are the man who came to my cottage. What do ye want with me?” she asked once again. This time, her voice was low. She had to be exhausted. They’d traveled all night and late into the morning without stopping. It was only out of care that his mount could falter that Ethan stopped.

  He knew precisely where he’d go. And he would leave a trail of markers.

  And of course, the idiot would follow. Even if not out of love for the woman, Kieran would come because he thought himself the hunter, the one in pursuit.

  It was a warmer day than usual, not one cloud to shade the sun from beaming down. Thankfully, he’d spotted a shallow creek so his mount could have its fill. The wench had to be thirsty, but it didn’t matter now. She’d sealed her fate. From this point on, she’d not be given anything to drink or eat.

  Ethan walked in a circle, searching the surroundings, ensuring no one was close. Not yet. His destination was perfect and he had to reach it before Kieran caught up to them.

  His lips curved.

  No one was greater at setting traps, better at manipulating people to do his will. It was time everyone, including his family, realized how intelligent he was.

  They thought him mad. Although not saying it out loud, the way they’d looked at him, especially his father, made it obvious. They had betrayed him, thrown him into a room in the bowels of the keep and locked the door.

  To keep him out of harm from the Ross’ they’d claimed. But it wasn’t true. They, along with everyone else, were aware of his power and feared how many would die as he wielded it and became the new laird of Clan Ross. Idiots.

  They’d sealed their fates as well. His own family would fall beneath the heel of his boot.

  Not only would he conquer all the Ross’ lands, but also the McLeod’s. He just needed time. Which would come once he rid himself of Kieran. The man was relentless in pursuing him. Once dead, the other two brothers would be easy to dispose of. In their grief, they’d become careless and distracted.

  “I asked ye a question.” Kieran’s woman came into focus and Ethan loomed over her.

  “I am Ethan McLeod. The most powerful man ye will ever meet. Tis a shame, really, that ye will die before having the opportunity to recount about me.”

  He considered for a moment that perhaps it would be a good idea to bring a young lad along with him on his travels. Then send him into villages to tell of his conquests.

  All in good time.

  “Ye are a fool is what ye are. No one will come for me.” The beauty looked directly into his eyes. He almost looked away, but caught himself. She was a pawn, not someone who should affect him in any way. Certainly not make him feel less than who he was.

  “We leave soon. Prepare yerself.” He turned away.

  She let out an indignant huff. “Exactly what do ye expect me to do? Peer in the looking glass and sort out my hair?”

  He stalked to her, grabbed the hem of her dress and tore a strip. He then went to a thorny bush and pulled the piece of cloth along the brambles until it caught. It would look as if she’d hurried past. It would leave a clue for whoever followed them. By the time Kieran stumbled upon them, his trap would be set.

  Considering she’d not hesitate to bite or kick, Ethan rounded the thin tree and untied her. Then he yanked her up from behind and guided her between two bushes.

  “Relieve yerself and ye can wash at the creek. Do not try to escape.” He then untied her hands and stepped back.

  He waited until she neared the creek’s edge and bent over to wash and drink. Then as quick as a striking snake, he placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her face under the water.

  The woman fought. She became frantic, kicking and scratching. The water sloshed as he struggled to keep her head submerged. Finally, as she began to slow, he released her and yanked her back.

  Sputtering and coughing horribly, she lay on the ground flopping about like a fish. He didn’t feel anything other than curiosity as she sat up, still choking on the water she’d inhaled. The woman’s face became alarmingly red as she gasped for air. She was a sight, hair plastered to the sides of her head and dress muddy and wet.

  “Do ye see now? Ye are mine to do with as I wish. It will not be long before Kieran Ross follows.”

  He watched as she struggled to get a good breath. Needing a closer look at his handiwork, Ethan loomed over her.

  “Tis a shame, really. I would think someone of yer beauty would be more interested in a man like me.”

  The woman had the audacity to glare. If he had any reservations about killing her, they’d be dashed by her impertinence. Grabbing her by the hair, he dragged her back to the water.

  She fought, but was too weak to protest. Stupid woman, he was much too strong for her.

  Once again, he dunked her head into the water. Her flailing only added to the enjoyment. If only he could hold her down until her life ebbed. But no, it was much too easy and too soon. Ethan lifted her head and, this time, she barely sputtered.

  Finally after a few moments, her entire body was racked with coughs and she whimpered and tried in vain to drag herself away from him.

  “Ye see now how easy it would be for me to end yer life? I will kill ye soon, but not until he can watch.”

  Ethan yanked her to her feet. She faltered, barely able to stand. There was no need to attempt any type of care, so he shoved her forward toward the horse. She fell to the ground and, once again, he pulled her up to stand. The coughing was lessening somewhat, which was a shame, really. When she tripped and fell, the woman began to cry.

  A chuckle escaped Ethan.

  The power he had over people was intoxicating.

  *

  For interminable hours, Gisela either fell asleep or blacked out. The never-ending hours of riding wore on her. Not only was she still in shock from almost drowning, but she was also wet, cold, muddy and hungry.

  It had been a long while since they’d stopped and even longer since her captor deemed to give her a drink or a bite of food. He was saving it for himself, she mused. Since she wouldn’t live long, there was no need for nourishment o
f any kind.

  “Water?” The word came out as a whisper.

  Her request was ignored. Too tired to care, Gisela began to cry. Darting out her tongue, she tasted the salty tears and slumped forward. At first during the ride, she’d tried to reason with the man. She had told him Kieran would not come for her. But he’d known Kieran would follow. Even if not for her, Kieran would come for him.

  Once again, blackness threatened. It could be she would die before Kieran reached her. Too weak to remain awake, Gisela gave in, not wanting to fight what was inevitable.

  The next time she came to, it was dark. Gisela did her best to get comfortable, but her entire body shook from the chill of the night and her wet clothing. Although the man had made a fire, she couldn’t get warm. He’d placed her just a bit too far from the fire so the heat didn’t quite reach her.

  It was a horrible way to spend her last days, Gisela thought. Hungry and cold with no one offering comfort was a miserable existence. When tears spilled, she marveled that she could still cry.

  Unlike her, her captor seemed at ease. His back to the cave wall, he snored softly. She eyed him for a moment and then looked around.

  With hands and feet bound, there was little she could do to get away. They were in a small cave, the entrance blocked by the slumbering man.

  If she managed to get past him, she would have to get past the branches he’d piled at the entryway to keep the wind out. The noise would wake him.

  Gisela closed her eyes and pictured Kieran. What was he doing at the moment? In all probability, he was searching for them. If he did find them, Ethan McLeod would immediately kill her. For whatever reason, the man hated Kieran and would do anything to hurt him.

  The joke was on him because although Kieran and she had become close, it was doubtful her death would hurt him.

  If anything, it would be a good distraction to help Kieran finally get the upper hand on his enemy.

  She shivered and wiggled closer to the fire. If only time could be turned back. Instead of shaking from the cold in a cave, she would be back in her little cabin in the woods. She’d be in that quiet place with only herbs and, on occasion, her brother and mother to keep her company.

  In her gut, Gisela knew she’d never return to the cabin. Her life, although simple and insignificant, had been a good one. Upon receiving news of her demise, her mother would grieve for a short period. Her brother would take it harder. In all probability, Ethan would be dead by the time they got the news. So thankfully, her brother would not be faced with the decision to head out on a quest for justice.

  Ethan McLeod would die soon. There was little doubt in her mind that Kieran was the stronger of the two and would have his vengeance.

  Either way, she’d not know how it would all end, as the man who sat mere feet from her would be her killer.

  “Wake up!” A kick to her leg startled Gisela awake. Somehow, she’d survived the night. Although she was still weak from lack of food and shivering all night, at least her dirty clothes were somewhat dry.

  “We leave immediately.”

  She peered to the cave’s entrance. It was dim outside but would be dawn soon as the first signs of sunrays arrived.

  Before she could stand, he dragged her up and toward the entrance. “I do not have time to waste with ye. Perhaps I should leave ye along the way as a marker for him to follow.”

  When he laughed, a shiver traveled up Gisela’s spine. Was it her time to die?

  “Are ye sure he would follow ye right after? Or will ye be forced to spend many more nights looking over yer shoulder?” Her voice was weak, but she managed to speak loudly.

  Instead of a reply, he tied a binding around her face to shield her eyes and then bound her hands. When he shoved her forward, Gisela stumbled. If Kieran did not kill the horrible man, she would.

  By the time they mounted and continued on their way, she could hear a bird’s song. Morning had arrived. It was impossible to tell in which direction they rode. She did her best to keep an ear out for sounds that would give some sort of clue, but it was useless. The clop-clop of the horse’s hooves and the wind through leaves were all she could make out. The man breathed evenly, seeming at ease holding her atop the horse.

  Unlike when she’d ridden with Kieran, this man managed to keep a distance between them, ensuring she leaned forward at the waist. It was tiring, but she didn’t mind as she’d rather not have more contact with him than needed.

  Abruptly, he pulled the horse to a stop and then they veered to the side. Just as she was about to say something, he slapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Keep quiet.”

  The sounds of a wagon being pulled reached her ears and Gisela hoped they’d be spotted. She racked her brain for what to do to get attention, but nothing came to mind. With her hands bound and unable to make noise, she could only remain still as the cart and rider continued by them.

  Ethan let out a long breath. “There are too many people on this road. I must find another. Although it will take another night…” He seemed to realize he spoke out loud and abruptly stopped speaking. With a low growl, he guided the house back onto the road.

  “Where are we going?” Gisela’s voice sounded more like a croak than anything else.

  “I suppose there is no harm in telling ye, since it will be yer resting place. We head to Morgan’s Peak.”

  The name meant nothing to Gisela.

  When they stopped again, Gisela was barely able to totter to behind a group of leafy bushes to relieve herself. Her legs trembled when she crouched down, making it difficult to retain her balance.

  There had to be a way to escape. From the many times Ethan had been yawning, he was exhausted. Not anxious to be bound, she lingered in the bushes.

  Feeding the horse and guiding it to a tiny trickle of a stream, he didn’t watch her. It was obvious he considered her too weak to get far if she decided to run.

  The wind blew warm across her face and Gisela studied the surroundings. The trees were not dense, but there seemed to be a path by them. Hopefully, it meant there was a village nearby.

  At first, she walked a bit away, pretended to search for something to eat. Then upon determining she was just far enough away, she picked up her skirts and sprinted toward the trees.

  Her chest ached as she continued to run. It was only through sheer willpower that she continued running. Low branches whisked past Gisela’s arms and face. Several times, her hair became caught in the limbs.

  It had been a few minutes since she’d heard him coming after her and she slowed, unable to keep the fast pace. Frantic, she looked around, unable to make any sense of what direction she was headed. There were no longer signs of a path because, in the panic of escaping, she’d lost sight of it.

  There was rustling behind her and she dove to the ground to hide behind a fallen tree.

  A trio of deer came into view, their heads turning in every direction, always alert. Not stopping, they continued on past her, then suddenly sprinted away.

  Gisela almost smiled. If she went the direction the deer had come from, it could be safe.

  Her legs barely sustained her upright when she straightened and her stomach grumbled, demanding food.

  “Soon,” she whispered, a promise with little basis. She took a step forward and immediately realized her mistake. The deer had been frightened and darted away because they’d sensed someone coming.

  The hard slap sent her sideways and she didn’t bother crying out. When Ethan pulled her up by the hair, she bit back a scream.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Any news?” Ceilidh hurried to Ian who walked into the great room. His expression was unreadable, the flatness in his eyes not exposing his thoughts. Whenever he worked, her betrothed transformed from the caring, soft-spoken man to a menacing warrior.

  “Ye may come with me as I speak to the laird,” he said and continued straight to the high board where Elspeth and Malcolm sat listening to clanspeople’s concerns.

 
As soon as Ian walked up, Malcolm waved the group who’d been speaking to move back. He glanced at Ceilidh, but didn’t send her away.

  “Speak,” he commanded.

  Ian nodded in deference. “There were reported sightings. Most informed us that the woman, Gisela, was taken north toward Morgan’s Peak.”

  The men exchanged a look Ceilidh couldn’t decipher and then Malcolm spoke. “Did ye send men there?”

  “Aye, ten.”

  “That should be enough.”

  “No, send more, Malcolm.” Elspeth grabbed his arm. “Yer brother goes alone and we do not know how he will react if something has befallen Gisela. Ye should send more men.”

  “Tis only one woman and one man. There is no need for a large contingent…”

  Elspeth’s nostrils flared and she pinned her husband with a narrowed glare. “She is a Munro. Our clans are united now. Ye cannot allow for anything bad to happen to her.”

  Her words had obviously sunk in because the laird nodded. “Ye are right.”

  Malcolm looked to Ian. “Did the rest return with ye?”

  “Only half, the rest remained a day’s ride away in case they are needed.” Ian motioned with his head for two men to come near. “What message would ye like to send?”

  “Order them to Morgan’s Peak. Send a messenger to find Tristan and inform him of the situation. He will decide what to do.”

  “I will return to my men,” Ian said.

  Elspeth smiled at Ian. “Be with care and bring her and Kieran back alive.”

  It was obvious that Elspeth was the perfect wife to the laird. Although Ceilidh had often wondered how she’d tamed the hard man, it was obvious he doted upon her and took her advice on matters.

  With a slight bow, Ian turned and stalked away. Ceilidh had to run to keep up with his long strides.

  “Ian…”

  “Come.” Ian took her hand and led her down a corridor to his room. “We do not have much time.”

  “Do ye need me to get anything for yer trip back?”