In the Highlander's Bed (5 page)

“I barely know him.”

A fit of vapors he would have understood. This cool, logical response put him on guard. “His brother is your brother-in-law Lord Phillip.”

Miss Constance shook her head. “I don’t know the duke but I don’t like my brother-in-lawat all . I doubt if either of them will pay a ransom. You’d best let me go.”

“I will,” Gordon said, “afterthe ransom is paid.”

“Well, don’t ask for much, because you won’t see any money,” she said as cool as you please.

“I’ll take my chances.” The Duke of Colster had once been part of the clan. Gordon knew what sort of man Colster was. He’d pay any price for a kinsman.

A horse nickered from where Brian waited.

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Miss Constance’s head turned in the direction of the sound. “Horses,” she breathed, as if discovering the Holy Grail. “They are yours?”

“Aye.” Gordon didn’t trust this new eagerness in her voice.

“We should go, then,” she said, her words a command. “My disappearance could be discovered.” She would have walked off, Robbie and Thomas at her heels, except Gordon still held her fast.

She glanced at his hand on her shoulder. “Are we leaving?” she asked impatiently. “Or are we going to stand here yammering all night?”

Yammering?Gordon had never heard of such a word. “We will leave, but whenI give the order.” He wasn’t usually this prickly. He preferred for all of his men to show leadership. However, that didn’t mean he wanted his captives to take over control. Especially the female ones.

Unfortunately, at that moment a shout went up from the direction of the school. “I found a book,” a man cried, “and shoes and clothing!”

Miss Constance made an exasperated wound. “They’ve discovered I am missing. Mistress Hillary must have checked my bed.”

“There’s money here, too,” another man shouted.

“Oh, bother,” Constance said. “All my money was in my bundle.” She frowned at Gordon. “Are you ready to give that order to ride yet?”

Thomas and Robbie went bug-eyed. No one spoke to Gordon that way.

No one had ever dared.

And the worst was, there was nothing Gordon could do about it. They did have to leave.

“Mount up,” he said, his eyes not leaving Constance’s. It was her saving grace that she didn’t smile or react in any way that would make him want to throttle her.

Thomas led the way, and within seconds they reached Brian. “We’ve got to go,” Thomas told him. “An alarm’s gone up.”

“Robbie,” Gordon said, “take our prisoner up on your horse. She’ll ride with you.” He would have preferred Thomas to take care of her but feared the extra weight on top of his friend’s bulk would be too much for his horse.

Robbie hopped up into the saddle, but Miss Constance balked. “I must have my own horse.”

“Not for the kind of riding we’ll be doing,” Gordon said. There was more shouting coming from the house. They were probably preparing to search the woods. “I’ll not risk your neck.” He put his hands on her waist to lift her up, but she’d have none of it and dug in her heels.

“What ifhe breaks his neck?” she asked, referring to Robbie. “You know it will be safer for each of us to have a horse.”

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“I don’thave another horse,” Gordon replied. And he wasn’t about to give her another chance to escape. Constance was far more brazen than any other female of his acquaintance. “Now, climb up.”

Calls were going up from the school for horses. The woods would be searched shortly and the roads cut off. There wasn’t time to waste.

Miss Constance heard, too, and at last exercised good sense. With a soft sound of protest, she allowed him to lift her up to sit sidesaddle in front of Robbie, something she did with enough confidence to tell Gordon she was comfortable on a horse.

He took his own reins and climbed into the saddle. With a nudge of his leg, he set Tempest off through the woods. The others followed.

They reached the road and set off at a gallop. Gordon glanced over at Robbie. He had one arm around their captive. She leaned over the horse’s mane, riding with him.

At last, Gordon felt he could breathe easier.

They’d done it.

The moment he reached the clan’s camp in the mountains, he would send a messenger to Colster. Within two weeks, at the most three, he would have the sword.

And perhaps it wasn’t such a disaster that the soldiers were here this night or that Constance had been discovered missing. All this would confirm the ransom demand.

After several minutes of hard riding, Gordon turned Tempest off the road, cutting across the open moor, heading west. He rode at the head of his men, proud on this moonlit night to be their leader.

They’d all waited a long time for action. Laird MacKenna had once amassed an army, he’d had the sword and a mandate from the Highlanders, but now, looking back, Gordon could see that the chieftain had lacked the conviction of their Cause. He’d been more interested in the trappings of power than freedom.

In the end, the laird and his other officers had betrayed the clan. They’d taken the money that was raised to support a rebellion and run off to Italy. Gordon hoped their stomachs shriveled on sour wine.

The night air was crisp against Gordon’s skin. He’d keep them riding at this speed for a few more miles and then it would be safe to walk. Traveling across the countryside, avoiding the main roads, they would reach their camp by late afternoon.

Gordon counted himself lucky that Miss Constance was headstrong enough towant to run away. He had rope in his saddlebags. He would have tied her up. Her cooperation had saved them a great deal of time—

A shout behind him interrupted Gordon’s thoughts.

Alarmed, he reined Tempest sharply and turned in time to see Robbie’s horse go charging off in the night, traveling in the opposite direction.

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“It’s Robbie,” Brian shouted.

“His horse has run away?” Gordon asked.

“No, he’s back here and hurt bad,” Brian answered.

And what of Constance Cameron? Gordon was afraid to ask the question, riding back to where Thomas stood beside Robbie stretched out on the ground. Gordon didn’t see a second figure.

“The lass pushed him off the horse,” Brian said, answering his unspoken question. “Shoved him hard when he wasn’t expecting it. Then she threw her leg over the saddle and rode away as if she was a man.”

Robbie moaned. It was a welcome sound and allowed Gordon to breathe again.

“See to him,” he ordered the others as he pulled a rope out of his saddlebag. “I’m going after her.”

“When you catch her, put her over your knee,” Thomas said.

“Ifyou catch her,” Brian said. “The lass is riding like the wind. I’ve never seen Robbie’s horse move so fast.”

“Oh,I’ll catch her,” Gordon said.

Constance rode with her heart pounding in her chest and her spirits high on freedom. For the first time since…well, before her father died, she felt alive. She feltpowerful .

She would be in Edinburgh before morning. She’d lost her money and her clothing but she didn’t care.

She’d manage. She always had in the past. She’d be on theNovus because she was going home.

The horse was not as wild as the ponies she’d grown up on. She’d frightened it when she pushed his rider off, which was fine. A frightened horse was a fast one.

She was so involved in giving the animal his lead and her own unfettered happiness that she didn’t realize Mr. Lachlan had followed until he was upon her.

His hand reached for her bridle. He was a better horseman than herself. He leaned so far in the saddle, he could have fallen, and yet his legs held tight.

Her horse protested the yank of the reins. He tried to veer, wanting to take his head back. Mr. Lachlan jerked the rein and the horse kicked out, struggling to keep from stumbling.

Constance lost her balance.

She fell to the ground and barely missed being stepped on by inches.

The earth beneath her was spongy and damp. For a moment she feared she couldn’t move. She wiggled her toes, her fingers—and then found a rock to wrap her hand around.

She was not going with Mr. Lachlan.

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She had a ship to meet. She didn’t have time to be kidnapped.

He subdued the horses some twenty feet from her and jumped to the ground. Dropping the reins on the lathered horses, he turned to her.

Constance clambered to her feet, prepared to defend herself with the rock in her hand. “Stop right there,” she ordered.

He didn’t listen. He kept coming. He looked very strong, very tall, and very angry in the night, a rope in his right hand.

She threw the rock as hard as she could. Rock throwing had worked for David against Goliath.

It didn’t work for her.

Her rock bounced off his chest and he kept coming.

She turned to run, but in a blink he was beside her, his hand closing around her wrist like a steel band.

“You could have killed my man back there,” he said. “Or yourself with that wild riding.”

Constance had a stab of conscience. She had been rough on Robbie. “I have the right to escape,” she defended herself.

“It’s unfortunate for you that you didn’t,” he answered, his voice silky tight.

His men, Robbie on the back of Brian’s horse, came riding up to join them.

The giant, Thomas, said, “I’m tired of this merry chase. Tie her up and be done with her.”

“Aye,” Mr. Lachlan agreed. “We’ll not trust her again.” He walked toward his horse, dragging her when she refused to follow.

Constance was furious at the amused faces of the men on the horses. Mr. Lachlan was going to carry her off to wherever he wished and she’d miss her ship.

She decided to tell him the truth. “Please, I mustn’t go with you,” she said. “I have a ship to board. It’s leaving from Edinburgh in four days.” She twisted her arm, to no avail. “I want to go home. I don’t want to stay here any longer. Ihate Britain. I hateEngland . I hateScotland . It’s cold, it’s damp, and it’s ugly.

And I’m not too fond ofyou, either.”

Mr. Lachlan stopped, a tall, golden-haired warrior of a man in the moonlight. “Then we have something in common, lass, because I’m far from finding you attractive. As for leaving, you can go anywhere you like,after Colster gives me my sword.”

“Your sword? What sword?”

“The Sword of the MacKenna. Colster has it and I want it back.” He looked to his men before saying,

“And it is not just the sword. I’m ransoming you for the freedom of my people. Now do you understand, lass? I don’t care what you hate or what you think or what you feel. I have hungry mouths to feed and a need for justice burning so deep within me, I’d go to hell and back for the sake of it. So resign yourself.

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You are staying with me. When Colster gives me what I want, then you are free to go. You can set sail to the moon for all I care.”

“Once he claims me, he won’t let me leave,” Constance protested. “My sister Charlotte will make me stay.”

“That’s not my problem, Miss Constance Cameron.” His accent clipped the syllables of her last name, infusing it with complete dislike.

Constance threw aside all pride. “You can let me go andtell him you have me.”

“I won’t lie,” he said. “I’m a man of honor.”

And that’s when she realized she was nothing more than a chore to him.

She didn’t matter…any more than she mattered to her sisters Charlotte and Miranda now that they were married. No one understood what she wanted, or cared.

That didn’t mean she had to swallow their disdain. Not as long as she had any fight left in her.

Constance curled her hands into claws and went after Mr. Lachlan screaming like a banshee.

But her resistance was a pitiful thing in the face of his superior strength. He took her by both wrists, easily keeping out of reach of her kicking feet. He was going to make her do as he wished. She was going to miss her ship. She was going to miss her chance to return home, and instead be trapped in England forever.

Worse, his men were laughing at her. Her anger amused them.

Constance lost all reason. She reacted. She spat at Mr. Lachlan, the most deadly insult a frontiersman could pay.

His men’s laughter stopped.

Her aim had been true. She’d hit his jaw.

A glint sharper than the point of her knife came to his eyes. He rubbed the spittle off with his shoulder before yanking her close, her hands against his chest. His body was hot with anger. He smelled of the night air and male.

“That’s the way, Gordon. Don’t take that from her,” Thomas said. The others growled their agreement.

Constance shut her eyes, holding her breath. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d been hit. Her father had struck his daughters religiously. She knew how to take a slap.

Gordon Lachlan ordered, “Open your eyes.”

She didn’t want to see the blow coming, but refused to take the coward’s way. She raised her lashes, meeting his gaze with a steady one of her own, even though her knees threatened to buckle from fear.

“You’ve made me very angry, Miss Constance,” he said. “No one disrespects the name Lachlan. Not
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without paying a price.”

And then he did something she had not anticipated.

He kissed her.

Four

Gordon could taste Constance Cameron’s astonishment, her shock, her inexperience—and he used all three to his full advantage. This wasn’t so much a kiss as a moment of locked lips. There was no passion, no spark, no energy. It was just pure expediency. He could have beat her or kissed her into submission.