“It’s hardly your fault Conall,” Georgina answered, “I’m the fool here. I went outside for a moonlit stroll, and that man’s brother was waiting right at the castle bounds and snatched me up right there and then.”
How silly must I have been. I should never have left my room that night.
“If anyone is to blame it is me,” she said, her emotions threatening to rise back up and spill over again.
“If anybody is tae blame, it’s that piece o’ shite that thought this whole thing up,” Conall raged. “He was a dodgy fella that got himself into trouble. When folk are scared, they lash out and hurt other people in the process for their own gains. Which is certainly no excuse for what he’s done.”
She took in his words, watching the sunlight hit the world around them. Suddenly it didn’t feel so private anymore, she felt exposed, like the wrong person could lay eyes on them at any time.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get a chance tae rest soon,” Conall said, as if he could read her mind. “We’ve covered a good bit o’ ground, enough tae put Bolton far behind us before he’s even realized that anything has happened.”
“I’m just so tired, Conall,” Georgina said, feeling her voice crack as she spoke. “You don’t know what it’s been like in that place, not knowing if I’d ever get out of there.” She’d spent so much time trying to be strong and not show weakness in the face of adversity, that now she felt safe again, the hardships she’d gone through were beginning to catch up with her.
“You’re a tough one, lass,” Conall said in response, “Ye’ve got out o’ there in one piece and showed Bolton where tae go. Just another day on the road an' we'll be home. Ye’re welcome at Carnarvan for as long as ye want tae be there, ye ken?”
Georgina was touched at his words, tears welling up behind eyelids. Don’t cry Georgina, don’t cry. Just one more day, and then you’ll be back where you belong.
“Right, what do you say tae keeping on for a while longer and then we’ll stop off for a proper rest?” Conall asked. “We cannae risk an inn in case any o’ the English come lookin’. That’ll be the first places they’ll check and innkeepers wid happily part wi’ information in exchange fer some coin.”
Georgina sighed. All I want is a proper bed, to lie down, be comfortable and sleep like the world isn’t out to get me. I’ll bet if it was Marcas, he’d let us stay in an inn.
“Alright, if we have to,” she said, the tiredness making her impatient and snappy.
“It’s a chance tae get yer native legs,” Conall joked, “If ye want to pass as one o’ us.”
“Oh, ha ha. Let’s just keep going,” she said. I’d settle for my own set of legs if I could only sleep.
Finally, after what felt like a year, Conall deemed it acceptable to stop. While it was familiar to be out in the open, eating the scanty meal of oats that Conall had hastily packed long before, it felt strange to be here just the two of them.
Her last journey with them had been fraught with excitement as she was caught up in the bubble of having her prayers answered by these two handsome Highlanders who swept her up and whisked her away. Everything was a new experience, riding on horseback, being close to the two men, sleeping and eating out in the open.
Now there was a feeling of intimacy in the air, and it left her feeling uncomfortable. As she lay down in close proximity all she could think about was the fact it wasn’t Marcas. Oh, how I wish it were Marcas that was here and not Conall. Will he be angry with me for being close to Conall like this? Or has he forgotten me already and found a new woman to occupy his attention? Probably someone with a tendency for less dramatic escapes.
Deep down she knew that wasn’t true, but all the worry inside her mind was creating all sorts of possibilities. Oh, just shut up and sleep, she told herself, it’ll all look better once we get to the safety of the castle.
Eventually she managed to drift off, trying to ignore the hard ground underneath her and succumbing to the warmth of Conall’s embrace. It’s only to stop myself from freezing to death, she imagined telling Marcas as she sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Georgina awoke, disorientated and baking hot. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal the mid-morning sun beaming down upon them, a sharp contrast to all the rain she’d experienced the previous day. Where am I? She bolted upright in a panic before seeing Conall’s sleeping figure beside her.
After spending all that time locked away by that terrible man, and then thinking that she was going to be forced to go back home to England with Morgan, she was so relived to find herself safe with one of the McGowans. At least in this way I’ll be reunited with Marcas soon. And Fiona, of course … hoh, I’ve missed her companionship!
Taking a deep pained breath, she took in Conall’s face. In sleep, he looked peaceful and devoid of his usual bravado, like a lion transformed into a kitten. Maybe I was too hard on him last night, wishing that he was Marcas. He did step in and get me out of my inescapable fate once again, after all.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes and flashed her a grin, making her jump out of her skin.
“Watchin’ me sleep eh? I should be flattered.” He said, with his usual cheeky attitude.
“No, I was merely trying to see if you were awake or if you were still dead to the world,” she retorted haughtily in a bid to cover her embarrassment.
“Ach, well, no need to worry about me, lass. I’m tough enough to endure the hardships of being on the road,” he said, his eyes trailing over her with a lustful edge as he spoke.
Georgina cleared her throat, breaking the moment and looking away, heat rising in her cheeks as she did so, “Well, shall we press on?” she asked, “you were the one going on about a quick rest so that we can get moving as fast as possible.”
“Fine that,” Conall said offhandedly, springing to his feet and stretching before striding off for the cover of the trees. “Just gimme a minute, and we’ll be off,” he said as he walked, his back turned away from her.
She stood up, trying to gather up their things as best she could, Conall reappearing just moments later and untying the horse. “Right, let’s crack on,” he ordered, his usual humor gone to be replaced with a flat tone of instruction.
“Sure, now is good,” Georgina responded, letting him help her up onto the horse.
They rode mainly in silence the rest of the way and it was a long hard slog before Georgina began to recognize their surroundings.
“Oh, we’ve been here before!” she exclaimed.
“Yea, we sure have,” Conall responded, “we’re near Golspie and less than an hour’s distance fae home.”
Oh, thank goodness, I thought this journey would never end. Georgina began to recognize the hilly, wild landscape of the northlands a while back which perked her up. The beauty of it was enough to take her mind of the arduous journey and the tension between her and Conall but after a while the jolt of excitement wore off and she became restless and impatient.
“Right, will we run the last of the way?” Conall asked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Georgina responded with enthusiasm, sighing in relief as Conall urged the horse onward and they sped up.
Chapter 17
“Ohhh ye bloody devil!” Marcas yelped out as he stood up, testing his weight on his injured leg.
“Ye dyin’ in there or what?” Alpin’s voice sounded from the hallway just outside of Marcas’ room in the inn.
“Na, it’s gonnae take a lot more than a stab tae the leg tae kill me off, son,” Marcas joked, wincing at the shooting pain up his calf where Bolton sliced it with his blade.
“Ach it’s all in a day’s work, Marcas. Go home wi’ a few battle scars and the lassies will be all over ya,” Alpin said jovially, leaning against the open doorframe with his arms crossed.
“Och, aye indeed,” Marcas agreed with his friend. The only lass I want anywhere near me is Georgina. I hope to God that Conall has come through.
Marcas felt like an utter failure for not being able to ove
rthrow that English oaf. He had been beating himself up for losing over such a stupid injury. What was I thinking turning my back to him like that so soon…I should have delivered a blow that would have knocked the bampot oot, ye bloody fool.
This was certainly a case where his battle shy demeanor had not helped one bit.
“Right, ye gonnae manage or do I have tae carry ye like a cripple?” Alpin asked, waiting for Marcas to make a move so that they could continue downstairs.
“I’ll be fine,” Marcas said, brushing off any further help. I’m no gonnae let folk think I’m ever more of a wimp than they already do.
“That bloody Bolton has a lot tae answer fer that’s fer sure,” Alpin ranted, “he’ll get his comeuppance fer his dirty, underhanded tactics.”
Alpin hated the man as much as Conall and Marcas, if not more, so this at least stopped him from ripping into Marcas about getting such a ridiculous injury.
Marcas limped his way down the stairs of the Quoyburray Inn, following Alpin, and slowly made his way to the bar and dining area.
“Hi, aye, sir, I see yer looking a bit better now that yer patched up and all,” Bill Harris, the landlord said.
“Aye, good as new,” Marcas said with a grimace.
“Will ye be havin’ a spot o’ scran before ye set off?” Bill asked, scran being the Edinburgh regional slang word for food.
“Och, go on then,” Alpin said with relish, settling in to a table near the bar area.
“As long as we’re quick,” Marcas said to him, raising an eyebrow. Although a good sit down and some decent scran would be very welcome right about now.
Marcas carefully lowered himself into the chair opposite his friend, trying to keep from wincing at the action of moving his injured leg. This damned leg.
The Quoyburray Inn had been the closest place that Marcas actually knew, with the added benefit of having already made the acquaintance of the landlord. After Bolton had struck him down outside of Greyfriars, Conall and Alpin were close on his heels and rode up to Marcas’ aid minutes later.
“That bastard,” had been Conall’s comment on the matter, spitting out the words like venom. With Alpin’s assistance, the pair of them heaved him up and got him sitting upright, Alpin tearing a length off the bottom of his shirt to tie around Marcas’ bloody wound.
“We have tae go in after him, he’s gonnae snatch her up and run off doon tae England the second the coast’s clear,” Marcas insisted, gasping for breath as the pain spiked every time he moved.
“Na, brother, I’ve got a better plan,” Conall said in his scheming voice, his gaze fixed on the carriage which was meandering up the road toward them.
“Right, Alpin ye get Marcas out o’ sight as quick as ye can. I’m gonnae intercept the driver and make sure they dinnae get oot o’ Scotland,” Conall ordered. “Right now, Bolton’s in there negotiating a hefty price wi’ that piece o’ dirt Greg. Once he has his cash, he’ll have no reason tae go after the lass again.”
“Meanwhile, I get the driver on our side, the heavy rain will hit them in a matter o’ hours and he’ll insist they need tae stop for shelter. I’ll get him tae smuggle her oot in the night, and we’ll set off as fast as the horse will carry us fer home and meet ye both there.”
Bugger that, Marcas had thought, I couldn’ae have thought up a better plan meself.
He bit his tongue through the pain as Alpin helped to haul him up onto the horse, which made his wound gape all the more, bleeding out through the makeshift bandage they’d fastened it with. He refused to show weakness and rode through the pain as Marcas led them to the nearby inn which Conall, and he left only that morning.
By the time they arrived at Quoyburray, the entirety of Marcas’ bottom left leg was soaked with blood. They lucked upon Mrs. Harris, the landlord’s wife, seeing them arrive and she had dashed out to help, managing to get his wound stitched up and much of the blood cleaned off once they were inside.
“Righto, some bacon and eggs should sort you fellas right out,” Bill announced as he came over with two steaming plates of freshly cooked food.
“Ach, this looks just the ticket,” Marcas said appreciatively.
“Aye, just what we need tae fill up fer the journey home,” Alpin agreed.
“The wife passes on her concern fer ye, Marcas, she says ye’d best wait a bit longer before traveling on that leg,” Bill continued.
“Ach, I appreciate that, Bill, but we need tae be off. Tell her thanks for all her help and concern though, ye’ve got a good one there right enough,” Marcas said. Flattery seemed to be Conall’s method of getting by. Maybe if I tried to be more charming with my words, folk would look up to me just as much. I’m tired of always being in his shadow.
“Aye she’s a gem indeed,” Bill agreed joyfully, “I says tae her already that a big tough hero like yerself likely wouldn’t want to rest any longer.”
“I’ll let ye eat up, enjoy yer breakfast, lads,” He said. As he turned to leave, Marcas and Alpin both made thank you noises through their already full mouths. Oh, that’s the spot indeed, Marcas thought as he swallowed the soothing hot food.
Soon they were packing up to leave and saying their goodbyes to the Harris’.
“Och, you take care do ye hear?” Mrs. Harris insisted, giving Marcas a hug.
“I’ll be fine, don’t ye worry Mrs. Harris. Us clan folk are made o’ strong stuff after all,” he said indulgently, appreciating her kindness all the same.
“Thank ye both fer your hospitality once again,” Marcas said as he shook Bill’s hand.
“Safe journey, lads, and if yer ever doon this way again be sure to stop in,” Bill encouraged.
“Fine that, I’ll certainly be back fer yer excellent scran, Mrs. Harris,” Alpin said, making a show of bowing down to kiss her hand.
“Oh, Mr. Campbell, ye’re makin’ me blush,” she said with a giggle as they said their final goodbyes and made for their horses.
Marcas turned to wave as they began at a walk, soon testing out if his leg would cope with a faster gait, as the pair of them made off for the arduous journey back home to Carnarvan.
Chapter 18
“Oh, thank heavens, where the crivens have ye been?!” Fiona yelled out, coming flying down the front steps of the castle much like Georgina’s original arrival at Carnarvan.
“Oh, Fiona, how glad I am to see you,” Georgina said in relief, hopping down from the horse and embracing her friend.
“Conall, what the hell has gone on? Marcas was all in panic, shouting aboot Georgina bein’ captured and next I ken he’s running off on his horse never tae be seen again!” Fiona shouted, her cheeks pink with anger.
“Calm doon, sis, we’re here now. And it’s just as Marcas said, some slimy git, no’ right in the heed, kidnapped her and locked her up,” Conall began to explain, “demanding ransom fae Bolton or me, whoever got him the cash first. Bolton paid the man, I intercepted an' here we are.”
“Fer heaven’s sake! But where’s Marcas?” Fiona continued, “And Alpin?” her breath caught in her throat as she said his name.
“On their way. Marcas got injured, so I had tae go ahead and get this one out o’ harm’s way,” Conall explained, jerking his head in Georgina’s direction as he spoke. “Before ye start, he’s perfectly capable o’ grinnin’ an’ bearing it so that they can get on the road.”
“They would have gone tae a nice wee inn tae get stitched up and have a rest, so no sense in worryin’, Fi,” Conall said with finality as he addressed Fiona.
She was aghast as Conall sauntered off to un-saddle the horse and let it out in the field, her face softening as she turned to face Georgina.
“Is all he said really true?” she asked.
Georgina nodded, “That’s the short version of the story but he has summed it up rather well,” she answered. Oh, I am so relieved to finally be off the road.
“Oh, Georgina I can hardly believe it, I’ve been sick wi’ worry,” Fiona gushed, “what an ordeal, ye mu
st just be exhausted ye poor thing.”
As her friend’s voice softened, Georgina felt all the tiredness and emotions that she’d been trying to hold in well up inside of her, her bottom lip beginning to tremble as a tear escaped and dribbled down her feverish cheek.
“I hardly know where to start, oh, I’m just so happy to see you,” Georgina managed to say before she succumbed to weeping on Fiona’s shoulder as her friend embraced her and patted her shoulder gently.
“Come on, let’s get ye inside and we’ll sort ye right oot,” Fiona said soothingly, guiding Georgina in towards the front door and through to the dining room.
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