Katherine saw two of the attackers fall from their horses, but the men soon rebounded, swords in hand. One of them reached for the bridle of her horse. She kicked at him and he grabbed for her boot.
Shrieking, Katherine pulled hard on her reins, jerking her horse away. Searching for a safe haven now that she was separated from her guard, she turned her mount toward the trees. She had gone but a few feet when thundering hooves behind her told Katherine that she was being chased.
Anxiously, she glanced over her shoulder and saw her pursuer gaining ground. Crouching lower, she urged her horse to an even faster gallop.
It did no good. Within minutes she was plucked neatly from her saddle and pinned against her captor’s broad chest. Fearing she would fall and be trampled, Katherine didn’t struggle when she was taken, but the moment she was settled on his horse, she squirmed and arched her back, assessing her chances of breaking free.
The arm thrust around her waist tightened until the breath was nearly squeezed out of her lungs.
“I’ve got ye now, my little dove,” he cackled, reaching down and twisting the dirk out of her hand.
Powerless, she continued struggling, with little effect. Using the muscles in his legs, the warrior turned his horse around and returned to the battle. The moment they came into view, Brochan and several other McKenna retainers surged forward.
Katherine’s captor swiftly drew the dirk he had taken from her across her throat.
“McKenna, hold!” Brochan shouted.
The sound of metal clashing with metal abruptly ceased as the McKenna warriors slowly lowered their swords.
“Call offyer men,” the brigand cried. “If ye surrender, we shall grant ye mercy.”
“McKennas dinnae accept defeat,” Brochan replied, holding out his claymore, the blood on the blade starkly visible.
“Yield or else the lass loses her life,” the man snarled.
“Only a dishonorable swine would threaten a lady in such a crude manner,” Brochan said in a tight, hard tone, his eyes never leaving the blade that was held against Katherine’s throat.
The man let out a menacing chuckle. “Yer words are as limp as yer sword. Throw yer weapons to the ground and slowly dismount. Now!”
The brute gave a twist to the dirk and Katherine felt a trickle of warm liquid cascade down her neck. Brandishing their weapons, the McKenna men began shouting furiously at her rough treatment.
“I told ye to drop yer weapons and get off yer mounts,” her captor repeated as he casually wiped the blood from her neck.
Her heart thumped wildly and for a moment nearly stopped, but Katherine quickly gathered her wits. “I’ll be of no value to ye if I’m dead.”
The brigand laughed, once again pressing the knife to her throat. “Order yer men to stand down.”
Katherine flexed her fingers. “We are prepared to make concessions if ye release me at once,” she stated in a carefully modulated tone.
A chorus of male laughter echoed through the glen. “We have no need to make concessions, as we’ve already taken what we want, Lady Katherine.”
Katherine stiffened. He knows who I am. This was no random attack; ’twas a planned assault. Who were they? They spoke with a Highland accent, yet wore no plaid.
Katherine’s mind raced. She could see the bloodied forehead of one of the McKenna soldiers, the torn sleeve and red sheen of blood on the arm of another. In that moment she knew she must do all that she could to ensure the survival of her escort.
“Ye promised my men mercy,” she said. “Will ye keep yer word?”
“Aye, but the offer willnae stand forever.”
Katherine’s eyes sought Brochan’s and the determination she saw in them gave her a jolt of angst. She had complete faith in the skill of her men, but they were outnumbered and at a distinct disadvantage.
She looked at the brigands, noting the wild swirl of desperation in their eyes. These men would fight to the death, if the McKennas did not yield. The result would be carnage on both sides, an unacceptable circumstance.
Nay. ’Twas obvious that she was the prize they wanted. Being taken by these men was a terrifying thought. Her stomach roiled at the vulnerability of her position as their hostage. Yet she would never forgive herself if any of her escort were maimed or killed—not when she had the chance to save them.
“Who are ye?” she asked, trying to twist her body to an angle where she could see her captor. His arms tightened around her, preventing any movement.
“I grow impatient, milady,” the brigand replied, ignoring her question.
“’Tis best if ye do as he asks, Brochan,” Katherine finally said. “This brute may be lacking in honor and courtesy, but he appears intelligent enough to know that if I come to any harm, his days on this earth are numbered.”
Her captor chuckled. “Ye wound me, fair lady, with yer low opinion of my character.”
“My father will do far more than wound ye with words when he finds ye,” Katherine promised.
She felt her captor stiffen, his fingers biting into her tender flesh like a hawk’s talons. “Take their weapons and horses,” he commanded.
Biting back oaths, the McKenna retainers reluctantly surrendered their swords and dirks. After handing over his weapons, Brochan looked up at her captor. “Ye’ll never be more sorry fer anything ye’ve ever done in yer miserable life if ye dare to mistreat her in any way.”
The brigand snorted. “Tell the McKenna I’ll send word when I’ve decided exactly what I want fer the return of his daughter.”
He turned his mount with a flourish and rode off. Katherine looked over her shoulder at the group of dejected McKenna men and said a prayer for their safe deliverance.
And her own.
* * *
They rode for hours. Katherine’s back was stiff and aching, for she refused to lean against the chest of her captor. Instead, she pulled herself forward, held her back straight, her shoulders high, her chin lifted.
At one point she thought they had crossed onto McKenna land, but there was little to distinguish one copse of trees from another. Though frightened, Katherine calmed herself imaging her father reading the note she had left, bursting into a rage, and storming after her.
If that had occurred, he would soon discover the abandoned men of her escort. And once they were found, McKenna warriors would be combing the countryside searching for her. ’Twas only a matter of time until she was rescued.
Those thoughts comforted and sustained her. The hours dragged until finally, as the sun began to sink, they stopped. Katherine’s captor lowered her from his horse, then slid down behind her. Her legs were so weak she nearly crumbled to the ground. Gripping her arm more tightly than necessary, the brigand held her upright.
She swayed and when she was steady, he signaled to one of the other men, who promptly handed him a length of rope. Katherine’s wrists were bound behind her back and she winced as the rough cord bit into her tender flesh. She raised her chin, preparing to unleash her displeasure at this treatment when she got her first good look at the man who had captured her.
It took a tremendous effort to keep her jaw from dropping. Quite simply, he was the most beautiful man Katherine had ever seen. Aye, beautiful, for there was no other way to describe the perfection of his features, the splendor of his physique, the compelling combination of blond hair and striking blue eyes.
“I think the lass has taken a fancy to ye, Aiden,” one of the men teased.
“She willnae be the first,” another man declared. “Nor the last.”
The brigands all chortled. Katherine could feel the heat creep up to her cheeks. Mortified at being caught staring, she averted her gaze. She was led to a fallen log and ordered to sit, which she managed awkwardly with her hands bound.
No one spoke to her as they set up camp. A hare and several fish were roasted over an open flame. Katherine’s stomach growled persistently at the tempting smells of food. Eventually, her hands were untied and she was given a
portion, which she quickly ate.
A blanket was spread near the fire for her. Shivering, she pulled the blanket around her shoulders. The night air had a biting chill that no wool or flame could easily conquer.
Aiden squatted down beside her and she was struck anew at his handsome features. “Rest while ye can,” he instructed. “We’ll be riding again in a few hours.”
Apprehension rolled through her. How could she possibly fall asleep in a camp full of unknown men?
“Who are ye? What do ye want?” she queried.
“I’ve yet to fully decide,” he replied.
“My father willnae react well to a demand fer ransom,” she muttered.
“He will negotiate if he wishes to see his only daughter again.” At her gasp, Aiden modulated his tone. “Ye have my word that as long as yer father cooperates, ye willnae be harmed.”
Katherine’s brow lifted. “What good is the word of a scoundrel and kidnapper who willnae reveal his full name?”
She saw the flash of his white teeth as he smiled. “’Tis the best ye’ve got, milady.”
Tense and uneasy, Katherine tried to settle herself on the rough and uneven ground. Aiden placed himself at a respectful distance, yet he was near enough to watch her every move.
The sound of gentle snoring soon filled her ears. Amazed that anyone could fall asleep so quickly and deeply on such a hard, unforgiving surface, Katherine attempted to do the same.
For come morning, she knew she would need as much strength as she could muster.
Chapter Five
At the sound of footsteps, Katherine’s eyes flew open. She rolled over, reaching for her dirk. Hand empty, she groaned, remembering her capture.
“Did ye sleep well, lass?” Aiden inquired.
“Like a queen,” she replied tartly. Brushing the hair from her eyes, she sat upright and noticed a soft shaft of light hovered on the horizon. Dawn was nearly upon them.
The men broke camp quickly. She was allowed a scant bit of privacy to see to her personal needs, given a dry bannock hard enough to break a tooth to eat, and then hoisted onto her horse. She turned a questioning eye toward Aiden and he smiled.
“We’ll travel faster with ye on yer own mount,” he said, taking her horse’s reins and tying them to his. “Though if ye miss being in my arms that much, I can sleep beside ye tonight.”
Katherine’s answering growl stuck in her throat and she began coughing. Their journey today was a mirror of yesterday, though they rode even faster and much farther. Katherine gave up trying to recognize her surroundings, though she paid close attention to any landmarks she could identify, committing them to memory.
’Twas how she then realized that they were going in a circular path, establishing a false trail. Her heart sank. She was certain that by now there were parties of McKenna retainers searching for her. This trickery could explain why there had been no sound of following riders.
At night she once again was placed close to the fire and despite his threat, Aiden slept several feet away. The next morning Katherine awoke with a pounding headache and a dry throat, though she refused to express any of her discomfort to Aiden or his men.
This day was a repeat of the previous one. The one glimmer of excitement had been overhearing the clan name of her captors—MacTavish. It eased some of her fears, as they were not sworn enemies of the McKennas, though clearly they weren’t allies.
Today there was still at least an hour of daylight, but for some reason they had decided to stop and make camp. Katherine suspected it was because they were getting closer to wherever they intended to keep her until her ransom could be paid.
The thought depressed her. She had hoped to be rescued by now and returned home to the safety of McKenna Castle. Resentfully, Katherine glared at her captors, who were conversing amongst themselves as they gathered kindling, brought out a cooking pot, and started simmering their evening meal. ’Twas at that moment she suddenly realized that none of them were paying any attention to her.
Escape! Did she dare? Her mind racing, Katherine slowly, casually strolled farther from the fire, toward the outer boundaries of the camp. Her hand itched to grab the reins of one of the horses, but she resisted, knowing it would instantly draw their eyes.
If she did manage to escape, ’twould not be easy to find her way home. In all likelihood she would be recaptured, as it was impossible to outrun anyone pursuing her on horseback. But the commotion would disrupt the journey, perhaps long enough for a McKenna search party to find her.
No matter what the result, Katherine knew she needed to try; this was the one way to atone for her foolishness in leaving Drummond Castle so hastily.
Careful not to make a sound, she crept farther away. Nervously biting her lip, she peered anxiously into the forest, laying out an escape route in her mind. If she could make it to the thickest section of the trees, they would be unable to follow her on horseback.
She glanced again at the men, muttered a quiet prayer, then made her move. ’Twas almost too easy—one moment she was standing at the edge of the camp and the next she had slipped away and disappeared into the forest. She walked quickly at first, then broke into a run. Her heart shuddered and sweat beaded on her forehead, yet she never broke stride.
Faster and faster she ran, leaping over fallen branches, pushing her way beyond prickly brambles, moving into the thickest part of the forest. Her breath came in great, panting gulps, her chest heaved from exhaustion, her heart felt near to bursting, yet she kept moving. Only one thought consumed her, drove her, pushed her—escape. This was her best chance and Katherine intended to give it her full effort.
Any second she expected to hear shouts of alarm and the sound of pursuit. None came, but Katherine didn’t slow her pace. Veering to the right, she tried to double back to the stream they had passed earlier in the day, since that was the direction she needed to travel.
Suddenly, a deep male voice echoed through the trees. Katherine stopped dead in her tracks, for an instant ceasing to breathe. Had she imagined it? Nay! She heard it a second time, faint and distant. Knowing the third time would bring it closer, she lengthened her stride.
Resolutely, Katherine wound her way deeper into the densest area of the forest. She could hear the heavy footsteps on the frozen ground behind her. Her heart sank, knowing that she couldn’t outrun these men—but perhaps she could outwit them. Her eyes darted anxiously about her as she ran, searching for a place to hide, to conceal herself.
She vaulted over a thick tree root, biting back a grunt of pain when the bottom of her boot scraped against the rough bark. Then mercifully she saw her best opportunity lay several yards to the left. Never breaking stride, Katherine changed direction, desperately heading toward possible salvation.
Breathless, she squeezed herself under a fallen tree trunk. Lying on her back, she hastily pulled a pile of dead leaves to cover herself. Her nose twitched with the smell of damp earth and decaying vegetation as she burrowed farther into the soil.
All went silent for a moment and for an instant it felt like a strange, ethereal dream. Then suddenly, the sounds of gruff, guttural male voices drew nearer and her chest tightened with fear.
“Lady Katherine! Lady Katherine!”
They shouted her name as they tromped through the forest, their lilting Highland accents a mockery to her ears. They called to her, promising no retribution if she surrendered, yet she dare not trust them.
Panic and hysteria bubbled within her. The reality of her own vulnerability swept through her and she began trembling. She had no weapon, no means to defend herself. If she were discovered . . .
Katherine gave her head a shake, resolutely thrusting those thoughts aside, quelling her quivers of dread. The situation was dire—there was no need to allow her imagination to make it even worse.
After what felt like an eternity, the voices faded, along with their footsteps. Katherine felt a surge of hope. Impatient to flee, she tamped down the urge, forcing herself to remain stil
l. These men were clever—and desperate. They could easily be lying in wait, hoping she would reveal herself.
With Herculean effort she stifled the cough that rose in her throat, her entire body shivering with the struggle. The tightness she had first felt when she had been captured had intensified each day. ’Twas now raw and painful, but succumbing to the impulse would surely reveal her hiding place.
Choking back the tickle, Katherine pressed her fist against her mouth, willing herself to remain quiet. Her head spun and her body trembled, yet the small hope that she might escape enabled her to command her body to do her bidding.
Minutes passed. Dare she move? Nay, she would wait longer, just to be certain they were gone. Her head began to ache and she was thirsty, yet she remained in her hiding place. Her eyelids grew heavy and she had difficulty keeping her eyes focused.
She had barely slept since she had been taken. She was so tired. Tired.
Rest. A short rest and then I shall flee. If I am very lucky, I shall find someone to aid me. The promise of a handsome reward will make it easier. If not, I shall make my way on my own and seek sanctuary at the nearest nunnery. The holy sisters will send word to my family.
Katherine had always been a woman of action and having a plan drove away the darkness. The tension in her shoulders gradually eased, the tight bands of fear around her heart lessened, and her eyes closed.
In moments she was fast asleep.
* * *
“What do ye mean ye lost her?” Lachlan said through gritted teeth.
In the evening darkness of the MacTavish great hall, Aiden stood before his older brother, his cloak wet, his boots muddy, his face streaked with dirt. Aiden and his men had been gone from the keep for nearly a fortnight, giving Lachlan just cause for concern. Yet the last thing he expected to hear when his brother returned was that Aiden had taken Lady Katherine McKenna hostage—and that she was no longer in his custody.
Aiden licked his lips. “I dinnae say that we lost her. I said that she ran from us and we have not yet been able to find her.”
“God’s blood, Aiden, why the hell did ye take her in the first place?” Lachlan stormed. “I expressly forbid ye to meddle with the McKennas. Ye were supposed to discover if Robbie was in truth being held prisoner. Nothing more.”
The Bride Chooses a Highlander Page 5