‘I saw you from the window,’ she said, her gaze skittering over to it and back to him. ‘But, the clearing was empty.’
‘I am here now,’ he said, holding out his hand to her. ‘Give me the dagger, Arabella. I will not harm you.’
She stared at him then, with bleak and empty eyes that filled with tears. ‘Is that how you killed Malcolm then? Tricked him into giving up his dagger and used yours on him?’
Christ! He wanted to deny it, but could not. He still remembered nothing of her brother’s death. Rob scuffed along the wooden floor and whispered a word to hurry him along.
‘Give me the dagger, lass,’ he ordered softly.
She raised her hand as though preparing to defend herself but it gave him the chance he needed. With a quick stride, he was in front of her, grasping the hand that held the weapon and twisting it down until she dropped it. Arabella gasped and opened her mouth to scream. It took but a second to cover it and nod to Rob.
Brodie wrapped the length of cord around her wrists after Rob gagged her with a piece of cloth. He wanted to laugh as his friend apologised, but this was too grave a time for any humour. Within minutes, she’d been secured—hands, mouth, legs.
‘We are taking you from here, Arabella,’ he said, as Rob threw a tapestry pilfered from another wall on the floor before them. ‘Fight not and you will not be hurt.’
He might as well have thrown water on an angry cat, for she bucked and twisted, trying to free herself. With quick, efficient movements, he and Rob placed her on the tapestry and rolled her inside of it. They carefully lifted the tapestry and the lady and carried her from the chamber, closing the door tightly behind them. Her father would not seek her out until just before the ceremony.
Brodie and Rob walked quickly in the opposite direction and took the second stairway, the one used by servants now busy with wedding preparations, to the lowest floor of the keep. Once there, it took little time to find the secret doorway which opened into a long-forgotten tunnel. He’d played here as a boy and his uncle had planned to close it, but never had. Brodie doubted that anyone remembered this hidden path out of the keep that led to one of the storage sheds near the stables.
The plan in place worked exactly as he’d hoped—his men were in their positions and executed their parts precisely. Even better, those living or working within the walls or the keep were seeing to all of the arrangements for the day’s celebration. With most of them so occupied, no one took note of two men carrying a rolled rug away. Soon, with the tapestry laid across his lap, Brodie rode the lass’s horse out through the gates and into the hills. Rob followed him while the others parted ways and would meet them back at their camp in two days, each group taking a different route to avoid detection.
* * *
The horse had accepted the extra burden without effort and they rode for miles before Brodie realised that the lass had stopped moving beneath his hand that held her securely on his lap. He signalled to Rob and they slowed and then walked the horses a short distance before coming to a halt. Rob was at his side quickly and Brodie lifted Arabella down to him and dismounted. Rob tossed him the skin of water and saw to their horses while Brodie knelt down to release their prisoner. Easing her body and pulling the tapestry, he freed her and stepped back, waiting on her reaction.
There was none. Nothing moved. Her eyes remained shut. No struggle. Brodie leaned closer to check if she yet breathed and placed his hand on her chest to feel if her heart beat.
Alive, thank God, but unconscious. Pushing the hair out of her face, he slid his hand under her head. Lifting her, he loosened the gag over her mouth. He whispered her name.
‘Arabella. Wake up, lass.’ No response. He tapped her cheek and spoke again. ‘Arabella, wake up now.’
When nothing happened, he tugged the stopper from the skin and dripped a slight amount on her mouth and face. Her eyes fluttered then and she mouthed silent words before opening her eyes. It took a few seconds but Brodie could tell the moment she came back to herself. She pushed herself up to sit, or attempted to, before she realised her hands and feet were tied.
Brodie stood back, allowing her time and space to come fully awake. She struggled against the ropes and rolled over once, before calming a bit and meeting his gaze. The fleeting fear in her blue eyes quickly turned to anger and for some reason he was happier to deal with that. He held out the skin to her, allowing her the choice of it or not. She had not screamed and that was good, too. Arabella lifted her hands to reach for it and he crouched down closer and handed it to her. She took in two or three mouthfuls of water before stopping and holding it back to him.
An unexpected silence filled the space between them. He could not think of what to say to her and she simply stared at him, waiting. When he heard Rob returning with the horses, Brodie knew they must not stay there too long, for they had much more distance to cover before he would feel safe. He reached over and untied the rope around her ankles.
It was clear she fought letting him see a reaction, but she grimaced and clenched her jaws together as she tried to move her legs. A moan escaped as her legs began to spasm. Standing, he took her by the arms and lifted her to her feet.
‘Come. Walk. They will feel better faster if you move them,’ he said, holding her up and guiding her in a small circle. He felt her trembling begin to lessen and her legs started to carry more of her weight by the third time around the area. He walked them over to a fallen tree trunk and eased her down on it before offering her the skin of water once more. She rejected it silently.
She’d not spoken a word since he’d woken her. Only, accusations of all manner taunted him from the icy depths of her blue eyes. He wished he had Rob’s easy way with women then, so he could say something to her.
‘Are you hurt?’ He forced the words out. From the way she gasped as she moved, he suspected she was.
‘Bruised,’ she said in a soft voice. Her hair fell about her shoulders, half still in an intricate braid and the rest loose and wild. His hands itched to touch it, but he drew back before he did. ‘And battered,’ she added, wincing as she pressed her tied hands against her ribs.
‘Brodie.’ He glanced at Rob, who signalled that they must be on their way soon.
‘Does that mean that my father and Caelan are getting closer?’ she asked. She pushed to her feet and began to look through the trees. Damn! She’d seen his hand movements again.
‘It means we must be on our way,’ he explained, sliding his hand around her arm and leading her to Rob and the horses. She pulled away when he reached to reposition the gag over her mouth. Sounds, especially screams, echoed through the woods and could be heard for miles away.
‘I must...I must...’ she whispered as he tugged the cloth up. ‘I pray you...’ The gag cut off the rest of her words, but she clutched at his arm and pulled on it.
‘You must what, Lady Arabella?’ he asked, anxious to put many more miles between himself and his cousin. He released his hold on the cloth.
‘I must see to my needs.’
His male flesh reacted to a completely different need than the one she most likely referred to, but Brodie understood what she meant. They’d been riding for a few hours without stopping. He’d taken her after she’d broken her fast.
‘This way,’ he ordered, tugging her into a thicker copse of trees, one that would give her a measure of privacy to take care of her needs. ‘Be quick now.’ He released her and walked several paces out of the trees.
He’d no sooner walked away when something warned him that she would try to run. He whistled to Rob who would circle the other way and cut her off. Standing still, he listened until he heard the crackling of the leaves on the ground before pushing back into the trees to get to her. It was no surprise that she was not there. She had no more than a few paces’ lead and no experience at trying to sneak away. The sounds of her escape echoed a
ll around them and he had no difficulty following her. And when Rob cut her off and she changed directions, he was waiting for her.
She slammed into him, not seeing him before she hit him. They both went down, her from the force of the impact and him in trying to keep her from being crushed beneath his weight. His efforts failed for they landed in a heap, her bound hands trapped in the one spot where they could do the most damage. The only good thing was that he twisted at that last moment and Arabella came down on top of him.
It took barely a moment before he realised it was not truly a good thing at all. And when she shifted, trying to get back to her feet, it was more bad than good.
The fates or heavens smiled on him then, for Rob, on horseback, reached them, leaned over and lifted her off him. By the time Brodie jumped to his feet, Rob had replaced the gag and seated her before him. Brodie could do nothing but mount the black beast that Rob held there. With a grim nod to Rob and amazed at his own stupidity in handling, or mishandling, the lass, Brodie let his friend lead.
* * *
It was some time later, as they headed higher into the mountains and found the place where they would spend the night, that Brodie finally allowed himself to approach Arabella.
* * *
She ached. Every bone and place in her body hurt with every breath she took or move she made. If not from being wrapped in the tapestry and thrown over a horse, and if not from running into the wall of hard muscle of Brodie, then surely the past several hours spent in the saddle had been the final assault. If she had been allowed to ride how she was accustomed to riding—astride and not over the lap or in the lap of another—she might not be in as much pain as she was.
Or so she’d thought until they stopped their relentless climb high into the mountains. For now she added cold to the pain and the list of ever-growing complaints that she held against Brodie Mackintosh. And that was in addition to kidnapping her and preventing her wedding. And beyond his greatest sin. Her plan was to stay alive and somehow reclaim her horse to escape him and find her way back to Caelan.
If she could find her way out of these mountains.
She stood in silence, waiting for the waves of pain to lessen before taking a step or saying a word. The men left her standing there, as they took some supplies off the horses and led them away. The winds began to swirl and the coldness bit deeper into her as the last light of the sun dropped behind the mountains in the distance. Wearing only the clothes on her back and wrapped in a thin blanket that Rob had given her some time ago, it was not long before she began to shiver.
‘Come.’ So lost in her misery, she had not seen or heard Brodie approach. He pulled and tugged at the rope encircling her wrists until it fell free. Arabella shook her hands, trying to get the numbness out, and then winced as the sensations came rushing into them.
Brodie held out his arm to her, as though giving her a choice in this. All her intentions for his capture and punishment aside, she found herself clutching his arm more than she wanted to as they walked towards a small shelter built there. He helped her to sit and she watched him move around the covered space, gathering this or that and speaking a few words to his friend who did his bidding.
Neither had been cruel to her, even if binding her and rolling her in a tapestry was barbaric. So, they must plan to use her as a hostage or she would be dead by now, would she not? Rob sat near her, tore off a chunk of bread and handed it to her. Brodie took a place on the other side, blocking her in between them but also blocking the winds a bit. He held out a battered cup to her and, when she accepted it, he filled it from the skin.
Famished, she ate several bites of the bread, first dipping it in the water to soften it, before asking the question that plagued her the most.
‘Why?’ she asked. Her voice surprised her as it echoed between them.
She said it once but wanted more answers than just to the obvious one. They glanced one at the other, some wordless message exchanged between these two men bonded by something she did not understand, and then Brodie met her gaze.
‘To stop the wedding,’ he answered with the most obvious answer. He held out a flask to her. ‘Drink some of this,’ he ordered. ‘It will warm you.’
She tipped the flask back and drew on it. The fiery liquid burned a path down her throat until it hit her stomach. She’d drank this before, her brother...had shared it with her, out of their father’s watchful eye. Now, it warmed her, spreading through her limbs and blood.
‘Since you were not even certain you wanted me as a wife, why would you stop the wedding?’ she pressed again. And she handed the flask back, knowing that imbibing too much of it would loosen her control over herself.
‘It was necessary,’ he replied, handing the flask to Rob.
‘And now? What happens to me now?’ His eyes flared then, some emotion flickering for a moment before it disappeared.
‘You do as you are told and no harm will come to you,’ he said. When she would have spoken, unable to resist the taunting nature of his words, he shook his head. ‘There is much you do not know. There is much you cannot know.’
Living with her father, she’d learned at a very young age to choose rebellion carefully, for the cost was usually dear. Euan Cameron had discovered her weakness early and did not hesitate to use her brother as a substitute for her to punish her misdeeds. Her father expected absolute obedience from his children and she and Malcolm had learned early to give him that. Something told her that this was one of those situations, one that could turn against her on a moment’s notice, so she paid heed to the feeling in her gut and allowed him to have the last word...for now.
The daylight disappeared quickly and the cloudy skies covered any light the moon gave off. Rob used his flint and some dry leaves to start a small fire. It would not give off much heat but at least it banished the darkness for now. Being midsummer, the night would not last too long here in the Highlands. Which meant they intended to sleep here.
A chance for her to escape? As if he’d heard her thoughts, he motioned for her hands. ‘Give me your hands, Arabella.’
‘There is nowhere for me to run, Brodie,’ she said, glancing around at the darkness around them. ‘I would be daft to try...’
‘I saw it in your eyes,’ he said, the smile that curved his mouth a grim one. One that spoke of his suspicions about her. Considering that the last time she’d been free for a moment, she’d run, she could not truly blame him for thinking such.
He wrapped the length around her wrist, only once this time, and then surprised her by wrapping the other end around his wrist. Brodie held it out to his friend who finished the task. They were tied together and she could not move without him feeling it.
‘How will I...?’ She could not voice the task she needed to see to right this moment, but from Rob’s chuckle, he understood.
‘Worry not,’ he said as he tugged on the rope, leading her away from the light of the fire. ‘It is too dark for me to see anything.’
Some mortifying minutes later, they walked back to the shelter where Rob had laid out some blankets and lengths of woollen plaid. Two places. Arabella looked from Rob to her keeper and shook her head. She would not sleep that close to him. She backed away until the rope stopped her.
‘Your virtue is safe, lady,’ he said. He guided her over to one of the blankets. ‘As long as you remain quiet, I will leave the gag off.’ She’d forgotten about that possibility.
Arabella decided that, if she wanted to escape, she needed rest and daylight. So, she would allow him to think her a compliant prisoner...until she was not. She must keep the element of surprise on her side since she was outnumbered. And a stranger in these lands. Her father and Caelan would be searching for her and she just needed to give them time to catch up with them.
It took one all-too-short minute for them to lie down. The pile beneath her was surprising
ly comfortable, but her body went rigid when he lay behind her. Sliding as far away as possible, Arabella knew she would not sleep at all this night. Weariness and fear and anger proved her wrong, overwhelming her resistance as her body gave up then. As she drifted off, warmth surrounded her and she sank into it, dreaming of a huge fire burning in the hearth of her chambers.
* * *
Brodie could tell the moment she stopped fighting sleep, and him, because her body softened and leaned back against his. A soft sigh followed a shiver and nearly unmanned him. He tossed another blanket over her and slid his arm around her, pulling her closer.
To warm her.
So she would not sicken or grow weak.
She would be of no use to them if she sickened and died.
He was only taking care of her for the good of his clan and not because of any softer feelings he might hold for her.
He repeated those thoughts to himself throughout the rest of the night as she burrowed closer to him. He reminded himself also of his true intentions in this endeavour and that she was only a means to his end—to tear control of the Mackintosh Clan from Caelan’s traitorous hands and save it from complete destruction.
* * *
When the meagre light of dawn pierced through the chilly fog, he was still telling himself those facts and trying to make himself believe them. Brodie knew that he had to endure this closeness to her for only two more days. Once they reached their encampment hidden high and well in the mountains, he would pass her off to be watched by someone else and not have to deal with her until he executed his plans.
Two more days.
Chapter Seven
Of hell. Of unadulterated misery.
Two days of it.
Mayhap if she’d cried or carried on, wailing and moaning, or whimpering, he could have withstood the pressure. If Rob had not laughed, silently or aloud, at his frustration in keeping a distance from her and not engaging her in discussions or arguments. Or if she’d not asked him questions so pointed he needed to check to see if he bled at her words and tone?
Stolen by the Highlander Page 6