Dangerous Pride (26 page)

Something was obviously wrong – his instincts were screaming that someone or something had kept the lass from returning to the castle.  Years of depending on such feelings for his own safety had taught him to heed whatever warnings might be offered.  “We will ride directly, then,” he said, turning to face the man who had brought Sorcha to his study.  “Have Laeg saddled and ready to leave in five minutes.  And I want Rory to see that a dozen men are armed, mounted and ready to accompany me.”

As the man left to carry out his orders, Lachlan silently cursed himself for his carelessness.  When Catriona had first arrived at Tolquhon, he had been diligent about having a small guard accompany her whenever she left the keep.  But as time had passed, and there had been no reprisals from Calum Leslie and his men, he had grown less strict with her.  His hands fisted at his sides, he stared through the window in his study, looking out into the keep.  If anything happened to her, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

Shaking off the wave of fear that washed over him, he stomped through the castle on his way to the stables.  If the lass had simply lost track of time, she’d receive a lecture unlike any she’d had before in her young, sheltered life. But if the situation was not her doing – if anyone had touched so much as a hair on her head – he vowed they wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.

###

The sun was low in the afternoon sky before Catriona broke through her reverie and began to pay attention to her surroundings.  She could not recall having taken this route back to the castle before, and the territory they covered was unfamiliar.  Glancing at the men around her, she found none were willing to meet her eye.

They were – however – all heavily armed, with swords strapped to their backs, and the sides of their horses.

Undeterred, she gently urged her horse forward, until she was again riding side-by-side with Fergus.  The middle-aged man looked at her defensively, but unlike the men who rode with him, he was at least willing to meet her gaze.

“Is there aught I can help ye with, my lady?” he asked politely, his expression guarded.

Catriona cleared her throat, wondering how to begin.  She didn’t want to offend the man, or call his competency into question, but she was quite sure he was leading them in the wrong direction.  “It’s only that I do no’ recognize this way back to Tolquhon,” she replied good-naturedly.  His expression remained blank.  She tried a different tact.  “Are you sure we will be back in time for the evening meal?  I do no’ wish to worry my husband any more than I already have.  If you are keeping to a slow pace on my account, you need no’, for I’m a fair enough rider.”

Shooting a quick glance at his men, who continued to stare straight ahead, stoically, Fergus rubbed his dirty chin with hands that were covered with several days worth of grime.  “We are no’ headin’ back tae the keep,” he said finally, the gaze he shot her dark and threatening.  As if regretting his abruptness, and the alarming reaction it prompted, he raised his hand to soften his words.  “There is no need tae worry, my lady.  There has been trouble at the keep in the past few days, is all, an’ yer husband asked us tae take ye tae a small camp nearby.  He’ll come tae collect ye himself this verra night.”

Catriona nodded her agreement, despite the fact his words did not ring true.  She’d not heard of any trouble at Tolquhon, and was sure someone would have told her had there been any.

She held her tongue as she let her horse fall back gradually, anxious for some time alone with her thoughts.  Though she recognized Fergus from the keep, there was something about his words and actions that did not sit well with her.

Something was not right, but she knew better than to react before she fully understood the situation.  Glancing around, she saw Fergus had brought six men with him.  They all road fit, handsome chargers who would quickly catch her should she try to break away with her dainty mare.

Even if she were successful in eluding the men, where would she go?  She didn’t know where she was now, let alone where they were taking her.

And what of Lachlan?  It was possible he hadn’t yet noticed she was missing.  And even when he did, she couldn’t be sure he would come after her.  He might be too frustrated and irritated with her to pay much attention to her whereabouts.  It could well be the evening meal before he noticed anything was amiss.  By then, she and her captors would be long gone.

Better, she decided, that she watch Fergus and his men and take their measure, waiting for an appropriate opportunity to set off on her own.  If she did something rash, she would undoubtedly pay a high price for her actions.

Shivering, Catriona pulled her plaid tighter around her in an effort to ward of the sudden chill she felt as she considered the danger she might well be in.

Perhaps she had merely misinterpreted the men’s recalcitrance and their stealth.

Perhaps it was a simple misunderstanding.

But no matter what she faced, she had no one to blame for the predicament but herself.

###

His anger had been all but obliterated by his fear.

Despite having searched a vast section of Forbes land, Lachlan and his men had been unable to uncover any trace of his wife.  The hour was growing late, and his concern about her safety was escalating at an alarming rate.  If she had simply gone for a ride to escape his presence and soothe her wounded ego, she would have been back long before now.

Sensing his master’s frustration, Laeg pawed the ground nervously with his hooves.  Lachlan reined the horse in, calming the huge charger with gentle strokes along his neck.  Rory had come into sight at the crest of the hill in front of them, and was now making his way toward Lachlan and his men.  When they left Tolquhon, both men had taken a handful of riders with them, in case they encountered any obstacles along the way.

Lachlan waited for Rory to join them, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his hand with anxiety.  From the grim expression on his friend’s face, he realized the news wasn’t good.  His own men had found no sign of Catriona, despite having searched thoroughly. None of the crofters they’d spoken to had seen hide nor hair of her, which laid to rest Lachlan’s hope that she had merely been visiting his kinsmen to deliver medicines or extra supplies from their kitchen.

Finally, Rory pulled his horse alongside Lachlan’s, shaking his head in answer to the unspoken question that lay thick in the air.  “Dammit, Rory, I do no’ ken where she could have gone,” Lachlan admitted quietly.  “The lass often goes off by herself, but it is no’ like her to stay out so long.  I fear she has come into trouble along the way.”

Rory’s deeply tanned brow was furrowed as he considered the best way to broach his suspicions.  “It is possible the lass does no’ want us tae find her,” he suggested gently, his honest assessment drawing an enraged glare.  “Mayhap she decided tae go and visit her family for a few days.  The fact ye had a set-to yesterday is hardly a secret.  She may only have wanted tae put some space betwixt the two of ye.”

Lachlan had to admit it was possible, though unlikely.  Her ego had received enough blows of late.  She wouldn’t willingly risk any more from her father.

As he considered his friend’s words, one of the men Rory had been commanding came tearing down the hill at breakneck speed.  “What is it, mon?” Lachlan demanded the moment the horse came within range.  The rider’s face was flushed with exertion, and he struggled for a moment to catch his breath.  Willy was a man of few words, but he was the best tracker Lachlan had.

“I think I found her trail, laird, but the news is no’ good,” he replied, still short of breath.  “I found a single set of tracks no’ far from here, an’ followed it tae the burn.  I think it must have been yer lady, for it rained but a day ago, and there are no’ many people who travel this area.  The tracks ended at the burn, but when I found them again, they were no longer a single set.”

“What are you saying, Willy?” Lachlan exploded, unable to contain his temper any longer.

“She is no’ alone any longer.  There are at least four tae six other men on horseback with her now.  And they are headed north.  Toward Ogilvy land, sir.”

Lachlan slumped forward in his saddle, rubbing his eyes in an effort to dim his overwhelming sense of exhaustion.  No longer aware of his men as they studied him, he sorted through his conflicting feelings.  Part of him wanted to believe Catriona was an innocent victim; that she had simply been out riding, and had encountered trouble.  That, he could manage.  He could follow her, fight the men who had dared take her, and return her to Tolquhon without a moment’s hesitation.  That would all be easy enough.  He was a warrior – trained to fight men, not emotions.

What he wasn’t prepared to accept – though he knew in his heart it was possible – was the fact she had left of her own free will.  Perhaps she’d been more unhappy at Tolquhon than he’d realized.  Though he’d believed she was adjusting to her new life with his people, he knew all was not well between the two of them.  It was possible he’d pushed her away with his advances, even though he’d done everything in his power to quell the feelings building within him.

Perhaps she had rejected him – a scarred, damaged warrior who no longer held any appeal for her.  It was possible she’d sent for her brother to come and get her when she could no longer bear to be with him.

That possibility was almost more than he could bear.

Regardless of the circumstances of her disappearance, he needed to retrieve his wife before any ill befell her – or any more people became aware of the troubles in their sham of a marriage.  His heart conflicted, his mind a whirl of possibilities, he turned to his chief.  “We ride for Boyne then, Rory,” he said resignedly, flinching inwardly at the look of sympathy that shone in his friend’s eyes.  “You take one group of men, and make yer way to Boyne with the most direct route.  We’ll follow Willy for as long as he’s able to keep to the tracks.  One way or another, we return with my wife,” he said, his eyes black as coal as he fixed Rory with a pointed stare.  “No matter what the circumstances.”

Or the cost, he thought, though he dared not voice that notion to his friend.

###

As the day wore on, Catriona began to get a better sense of her surroundings. When Fergus finally pulled the party to a halt in a lush glen, she was sure she was near Whitehills.  Unless she missed her guess, they were headed in the direction of Boyne Castle, but they were using a very circuitous path to get there.  She could only assume they were trying to keep anyone from following their trail.

“We’ll make camp here, my lady, until yer husband comes tae claim ye,” Fergus said as he walked toward her horse.  Reaching up, he helped her down, gesturing for a lad to see to the mare.  Begging the need for privacy, Catriona made her way to the ring of aspen trees surrounding the glen.

Quickly, she scanned the area, frantically trying to get her bearings.  After several minutes of exploration she was convinced she was already on Ogilvy land, and quite near Whitehills.  If she could pretend nothing was amiss for a few hours longer, she would be able to slip away in the night while the men slept.

After she had collected herself, Catriona walked calmly back into camp, smiling at Fergus as she made her way to where he was building a small fire.  She knew she had to pretend nothing was amiss in order to lull the man into trusting her.  “I suppose I should count my blessings,” she said companionably as she settled herself on the grass near the fire.  The men would think her the greatest fool, but far better that they underestimate her.  “I am likely much safer here than I would be in the care of my husband.  I shudder to think of how angry he will be when we finally make our way back to Tolquhon.  Truth be told, I am glad to have a reprieve from his temper, if only for a wee while.”

Catriona thought she saw a guilty look flicker across the man’s coarse features, but she couldn’t be sure. After helping Fergus build the fire, and seeing that each of the men shared in the oatcakes she’d been given to disperse, she settled down in her plaid near the fire.  Fergus had given her an extra blanket, and it helped protect against the chilly night.

Soon, the other men had rolled themselves in their plaids, taking positions near enough the fire to be warm, but far enough away from Catriona to be respectful.  Though she feigned sleep, Catriona had watched carefully, observing everything she could about the men’s actions.  Fergus had sent one man off to a high point near the north end of the camp, where she assumed he would serve as the lookout.  Several times she had made her way to the edge of the camp, muttering excuses about female problems. By now, the men were used to her absences, and they paid little attention when she went toward the trees.

When all the men finally seemed to be settled for the night, the sounds of their grunts and snores filling the air, she decided it was time to put her plan into motion.  Carefully, she twisted her blanket so that from a distance, it might look like a woman’s sleeping form.  With great care, she stepped around the men as she made her way to the edge of the trees.  The lookout to the north paid her no heed; he was either sleeping, or disinterested in her activities, having watched her make the trip countless times.  Carefully, she slipped through the trees and made her way to the south end of the camp.  The horses had been tethered in a small grove, far enough away from the camp that they wouldn’t disturb the sleeping men.

Catriona quietly crept toward her horse, watching the other animals anxiously for any sign they might give away her presence.  Her saddle was within sight, but she dared not take the time to collect it.  Instead, she gently disengaged the reins, and slowly led the horse to the clearing.  She sent a silent prayer of thanks skyward when the other horses remained silent, despite the mare’s departure.

Catriona led her mount some distance from camp, using the mane to help haul herself up on the animal’s back.  The mare remained silent, and Catriona sighed with relief as she spurred the animal toward what she hoped was Boyne Castle.