As Laurel’s head finally became too heavy for her neck to support, she considered how she must look. She was certain she looked ill, her pallor ashen. She suspected the MacDougall brothers drugged her to keep her complacent and to make it look as though she ailed in case they ran across anyone who wondered why they traveled with a slumbering woman.
“She’s finally asleep,” Nelson stated when they stopped to rest the horses. “Hopefully, she remains asleep while I give her another dose of the catnip tea Margaret gave me.”
“Won’t she choke?” Andrew wondered.
“We shall see,” Nelson said with a shrug. He handed Laurel down to Andrew before he dismounted. Andrew propped Laurel against a tree and supported her head when it lolled from side to side. “She’s sleeping more deeply than I expected.”
Nelson put a waterskin to Laurel’s lips and eased the contents into Laurel’s mouth. The natural response to swallow kept her from choking, but a small rivulet trailed from her lip to her jaw. The men waited with bated breath to see if she would wake. But when her body went lax and slumped, Nelson smiled.
“Better than sleep. She’s unconscious. Now to just keep her that way.” It wasn’t long before Nelson ordered the men to mount. Riding without Laurel pitching to one side or another proved more challenging that Nelson expected. His frustration with the unconscious woman grew when she continued to sweat, and it poured off her forehead onto his forearm. He called for them to make camp early.
“Riders approach,” Andrew called out.
“Campbells?” Nelson asked.
“Nay. Looks like Rosses. Her brother.”
“Perfect!”
The men turned to look at Nelson, who left Laurel to slump to the ground. He scooped dirt into his hand and forced Laurel’s fingers to scrape through it, leaving her nails encrusted with it. He grasped a nearby twig and ran it over Laurel’s cheeks and forehead, leaving scratches but no significant wounds. Her hair was still mostly neat. Nelson tugged at it, eliciting a moan from Laurel, but she didn’t move. He pulled strands loose and made her look unkempt. He threw dirt onto her gown and around her neck. By the time he’d finished, Laurel looked as though she’d been crawling through the woods on her belly.
“Ross!” Matthew called out when the party was within earshot. He waved to Monty and signaled for him to stop in the clearing where he and the others rested with Laurel. “Bluidy good we found you. We have your sister.”
“What?” Monty jumped from his horse and spotted Laurel. He ran to her side, looking suspiciously at Nelson, who appeared to be cradling her. “What happened?”
“We found her yesterday near Loch Earn,” Nelson said.
“Loch Earn? What was she going there? What were you doing there?” Donnan asked as he came to kneel beside Monty.
“Look at her. She’s obviously been mistreated. She must have used the ferry to get away from Campbell, or mayhap he dumped her there. We hoped we would catch you or we would have taken her to Balnagown,” Edgar spoke up. He and Stephen were the only ones who lived near the Rosses. Both the Gunns and MacBains lived further north. The Oliphants lived east of where they were now, and the MacDougalls lived to the west. They were the only ones who had any plausible reason to be near Loch Earn, but even then, it was out of the MacDougalls’ way. The MacFarlanes lived closer to the Campbells. Monty wondered why Andrew was with the party when he could have parted with them near Ben Vorlich and never gotten near Loch Earn. But seeing the men all together, with his unconscious sister among them, made him wary. None seemed so honorable that they would help Laurel merely because she was a woman on her own.
“Did you look for Campbell?” Monty inquired.
“We thought to, but when we tried to move her, she screamed and thrashed as though she fought someone off. She kept saying his name and trying to defend herself. We figured he was the one who did this to her,” Edgar explained. Monty nodded and glanced at Donnan. His partner looked as convinced as he felt. But until he was certain, he would take Laurel to Balnagown and not Kilchurn.
“Thank you,” Monty said as he scooped Laurel into his arms. “You have my gratitude.” He handed Laurel to Donnan while he mounted, then cradled his sister against his chest.
“We passed through a village this morning, and the healer gave us this. She said it should help ease Lady Campbell’s discomfort and mayhap even rouse her,” Nelson said as he handed a pouch to Donnan. “She said to brew it in a tea for her.”
Donnan nodded and tucked it into his sporran. He knew Monty had as little intention of giving it to Laurel as he did. The guardsman mounted but cast a long speculative look at the men in the clearing before he looked at Monty. The Ross party spurred their horses and left Nelson and his friends behind.
“Do you think they’ll give her the medicinals?” Stephen asked.
“Not bluidy likely. But she’s apt to sleep until they arrive at Balnagown.” Nelson curled his lip. “We follow at a distance and make sure the Campbells don’t catch up to them because they’re surely headed this way if they discovered she was on the ferry. Mayhap she’ll be a widow rather than Campbell becoming a widower.” Too proud of his scheme, Nelson didn’t notice the look Stephen and Andrew exchanged. Edgar and Liam stood with Nelson and Matthew, looking thick as thieves. Nelson’s plot had evolved into something far more dangerous than Andrew and Stephen expected. It had always seemed like Liam was the instigator, and Nelson was a hanger-on. But Nelson had shown his true self, and he worried Andrew and Stephen far more than Liam. Both men were torn between breaking away from the group and riding for their homes or riding with their co-conspirators and hoping they could keep anyone from dying.
“Do you stay or do you go?” Andrew asked under his breath.
“Stay for now. First chance, I tell Campbell or Ross. I didn’t agree to kill her.” Stephen murmured as they reached their horses. They waited for the other three to mount before the five men trotted a safe distance behind the Rosses.
Twenty-Five
Brodie ran his hand over the smaller boot print, confident that it was Laurel’s. But the five pairs scattered around it made him wonder who had her. He knew for certain Nelson and Matthew were there, and he now suspected they’d orchestrated it. However, he didn’t know who the other men were. He’d questioned the dock master, but the man didn’t know the plaid patterns well enough to identify any of them. Brodie had swallowed his anger, instead ordering his men to ride east along Loch Earn’s northern shore. It was away from MacDougall land, but it would take them toward the Rosses. When he considered who he’d seen Liam and Nelson associating with, he told Graham that they could take her to Edgar’s home at Clyth Castle along the north-eastern coast. He doubted that Andrew MacFarlane would invite them home to hide the kidnapped wife of an ally. If they’d injured Laurel even in the slightest, he would sever his ties to the MacFarlanes and support the Colquhouns, who were the MacFarlanes’ rivals.
“We track them and ride hard. They can’t be that far ahead of us. It’s obvious they made camp here last night since the ground is still warm from their fire, and they only set off an hour before us. The ferry might have made the journey faster than by land, but not by much since we’re riding light. It’s barely two hours past dawn, and we’ve already found where they spent the night.” Brodie looked at Michael once more. He’d ordered the man kept away from him. He didn’t trust himself not to stab Michael if he was within reach. Some Campbell warriors tried to coax Michael to speak, but he’d given nothing away. Brodie learned Wallace was just a lemming who’d followed Michael when he said they could help their laird.
Brodie chided himself for not starting earlier that morning. He might have caught them before they were underway. He was angry and frustrated to discover Laurel had been within two hours’ ride of him. If he’d pushed the men longer the night before or made them rise earlier, he could have found her. But his common sense told him they couldn’t have done either of those things safely. He didn’t have enough men to ris
k losing more. He’d arrived at Stirling with two score men. He’d lost nearly a dozen fighting the MacDougalls. He couldn’t afford to lose more since he didn’t know how many men his nemeses rode with.
If Edgar was leading Laurel’s captors to Clyth Castle, they had a ten-day ride ahead of them. Brodie told himself that gave him plenty of time to catch them. He gritted his teeth when he acknowledged to himself that he would pass near Balnagown on the way. It would still be a sennight’s ride, but he could seek the help of his father-by-marriage if he didn’t find Laurel first.
Brodie looked north and considered how to implement his plan. He needed a strategy, and he needed to consider logistics. Chasing after Laurel wouldn’t guarantee that he ever caught up to them, even if he wanted to believe he could. He couldn’t count on Nelson not to harm her before he reached her. And while he believed Monty would help him, he couldn’t be sure Laird Ross would. He picked up a twig and squatted beside the footprints. He drew the topography that he faced between where they’d stopped and Balnagown, then added the route to Clyth. He studied his map as he pictured the landscape, judging where he and his men could gain speed and ground over Laurel’s captors. His goal was now to get ahead of them, taking a stand where he chose.
“We abandon the road for the open land. I plan to be waiting for them at Dalwhinnie. If not there, then before they reach Inverness. They’ll likely follow the road and skirt the Cairngorms, but may sail up Loch Tay. If they do, we can catch them at Kenmore. Regardless of whether we find Lady Campbell there, we don’t linger. It’s bluidy Gordon land, and the last thing I need is them involved. We sail from Inverness to Balnagown if we must.” Brodie drew the twig through the dirt to show the route he and his men would travel. It would be even more arduous than the one they’d been on to Kilchurn, but he trusted the Campbell horseflesh. With his resolve to find his wife, he’d seen a shift in his men. He believed they finally understood it wasn’t duty that drove him to find Laurel. It was love.
“Mount!” Graham called out. The Campbell men rode north, remaining on the northeastern side of Loch Tay. He suspected the MacDougalls would attempt to hire birlinns to get them up the loch, but he and his men could still make better time. He had a day’s ride ahead of him. He prayed that he would have Laurel in his arms by nightfall.
Laurel was going to be ill. She felt the bile rising in her throat, and the horse’s gait beneath her was only making it worse. She struggled to open her eyes, but she was still so sleepy. She thought it would be fitting punishment if she vomited all over Nelson’s leg and boot. Despite her foggy mind, she could no longer hold back the need to cast up her accounts. She pitched to the side and heaved over and over.
“Laurel?”
Laurel’s brow furrowed. She recognized the voice, but she couldn’t understand how her brother sat behind her on the horse. She’d been riding with Nelson the last she recalled. She squeezed her eyes closed against the sunlight, fearing she would be sick all over again. Her arms felt too leaden to wipe her mouth, and her hair was plastered to her neck and forehead as she continued to sweat.
“Mayhap she needs another dose if she’s coming around.”
Laurel was certain she heard Donnan. But what could they be talking about? A dose of what? With horrifying certainty, she recalled drinking the water Matthew gave her. She’d grown too hot and then too sleepy. She didn’t remember meeting her brother, but if Donnan intended to drug her, then Monty was in league with Nelson. Laurel wanted to cry out, thrash against Monty. Anything to break free if her brother colluded to keep her from Brodie. But her body still felt sluggish and out of her control.
The horse drew to a stop, and Laurel fought once more to open her eyes, but it was too hard. Her mind was slowly clearing enough to be aware of what she heard. But it wasn’t sharp enough to understand what it meant. She tried to break free when someone tilted her head back and pressed a waterskin to her mouth. Her instinct to swallow allowed some liquid down her throat, but she recognized the taste. She fought against her captor.
“It’s working. Give her more,” Donnan encouraged.
Working? I’m struggling to wake. I’m not falling back to sleep. At least not yet. If they want me asleep, then why would he think it’s working? I need to tell them. Tell them what? What was I just thinking aboot? Brodie. Tell them.
“Want Brodie,” Laurel mumbled. “Want Brodie.”
“What did she say?” Monty asked. “It sounded like she wants Brodie.”
“Ye—” Laurel was battling the need to sleep as she forced each sound from between her lips. “Bro—”
“It sounds like she’s asking for him not trying to get away,” Monty said, skepticism lacing his tone.
“Stay Bro—” Laurel’s mind went blank as she sagged back into unconsciousness.
“She wants to be with Brodie. That doesn’t fit with what Nelson told us,” Donnan said.
“It doesn’t. I knew it was too much of a coincidence that they’d found Laurel. But I was more relieved to get her away from them.”
“Aye. Whatever we gave her made her worse.”
“I was desperate to rouse her. I took the chance because I feared how deeply she slept. I think the last dose only pushed her mind deeper into blackness.” Monty gazed down at his slumbering sister. He’d been hesitant to trust that the herbs they gave him would help Laurel, but he’d grown desperate. “If she wishes to rejoin Brodie, then we ride in the wrong direction. We double back. It’s two days’ ride to Kilchurn.”
“Hopefully, she rouses if we don’t give her anymore of the water. Then she can tell us what happened.” Donnan frowned as he looked at the woman he’d considered a sister rather than a friend. He hadn’t agreed with Monty many times about how he treated Laurel, and they’d argued in private each time. But he recognized the genuine discomfort Monty experienced. He recognized the guilt. “Make it up to her by getting her back to her husband.”
“That won’t be nearly enough, but it’s a place to start from.”
Laurel shivered, finally feeling cold rather than overheated. Someone pulled her arisaid tighter around her and held her against a broad chest. For a moment, she thought it was Brodie. But the man’s scent wasn’t right. She recognized it, though. Her eyes didn’t want to open, but her mind was clearer than it had been. She fought the haze and tried to speak.
“Monty?”
“Aye, Laurel. It’s me. Do you want a drink?” When Laurel struggled to break free, Monty cooed at her. “It’s fresh water, I swear. I didn’t ken what was in it before. I need you to wake up, Laurel. I need to ken what happened.”
Laurel offered a weak nod as she opened her lips to the waterskin. The fresh, cool water slithered down her throat. When she drank her fill, she sagged back against Monty. Her thoughts were coherent once more, but her body still felt heavy.
“How did ye find me?”
“We came across Nelson and the others on the road,” Monty explained. “He claimed he found you near Loch Earn. You looked worse for wear. Your gown is filthy, but we washed away the dirt from your face, hands, and neck. You still have the scratches. I’m guessing they came from branches while you ran.”
“I never ran.” Laurel shook her head and regretted it. She put her fingertips to her forehead, shocked to find the skin roughened. “I would have, had I the opportunity. I didna leave Brodie. Edgar and Stephen pushed me onto the ferry in Locherhead. Once we reached St. Fillans, they started drugging me to make me sleep.”
“And they must have prayed we would believe their story and continue drugging you. They said they’d found a healer in a village, and the woman gave you medicinals to rouse you and give you back your strength. We’d just ridden through a village an hour earlier, so it seemed plausible to me.”
“How’d you get separated from Brodie long enough to end up in their company?” Donnan cut in.
“I was following one of Brodie’s guards. He led me into the most crowded part of the market, then left me. The other guard dis
appeared, too. Before I could do aught, the crowd was pushing me toward the docks. I tried to tell the ferry mon that I had nay coin, but that’s when Nelson spoke up and said he would pay. I found maself on the packed boat with Stephen MacBain, Andrew MacFarlane, Nelson and Matthew MacDougall, Liam Oliphant, and Edgar Gunn. I never left Brodie.”
“But the scratches and dirt?” Monty asked.
“One of them did that. Probably when they spotted ye to make their story sound real. I was on horseback with Nelson or sitting on the ground the entire time. There were nay bushes or branches.”
“Laurel, we’re riding west now. We’re taking you to Kilchurn.” Monty adjusted Laurel’s plaid again. “You’re freezing.”
“I was too hot before. I thought I would sweat off ma own skin.” Laurel couldn’t muster the effort to sound like a courtly lady. She no longer cared either. “Brodie must be beside himself. He wouldnae have let me go. After what happened to Eliza MacMillan, he must be worried Nelson and Matthew intend to do the same to me. Where are we?”
“We’re close to Morenish, along Loch Tay. We found you near Kinnell, at the base of the loch.” Monty pointed to the shimmering water a few yards away.
“Do ye think the men scattered now that I’m with ye? Stephen and Edgar might still travel our route, but Andrew never should have traveled so far north.”
“Nay. They’re following us.”
“Monty, what?” Laurel exclaimed.
“Aye. Donnan’s been keeping an eye on them. They think they’re following far enough behind. Daft bastards. They’re downwind of us. We’ve caught whiffs of their horses. They’re just out of sight but not out of sniff.”
“Then how do we double back?”
A Hellion at the Highland Court: A Rags to Riches Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 9) Page 20