by Katy Baker
Seeing her hesitation, the man offered a gap-toothed smile. "I'm Seamus Finnegan. Ireland’s finest horseman, if I do say so myself. And ye are?"
"Lucy," she stammered. "Lucy Jennings."
The Irishman nodded. "Pleased to make yer acquaintance, Lucy Jennings. I'm not in the habit of taking advantage of lost women. I give ye my word I'll do ye no harm. Now please, come and take some food."
He rubbed his chin and gave her an appraising look. Then, without waiting for an answer, he ambled over to the campfire. Lucy glanced around. There was nothing in sight for miles, just the chapel and then the open expanse of endless country. Seamus was her only chance of getting answers. She followed him and took a seat on the grass on the opposite side of the fire.
He grinned at her. "Here, have a drink."
He handed her a leather flask which Lucy tipped against her lips, taking a big gulp. She'd expected water but the liquid inside most definitely wasn't water. It burned like acid as it went down and Lucy flung away the flask, coughing and spluttering.
Seamus laughed good-naturedly. "Careful, my lady. I wouldnae want people thinking I'm trying to get ye drunk now, would I?" He licked his lips, his eyes flicking from her fine dress, to her jewelry then back to her face.
"What is that stuff?" Lucy gasped. "It tastes like battery acid!"
"Whisky of course. What else would we be drinking in the Highlands of Scotland?"
"Whisky," Lucy mumbled. "Gotcha. Lovely."
Seamus reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a loaf and some cold chicken legs. He tossed some over to Lucy. She caught them and looked at Seamus, expecting a paper plate or at least a napkin to follow. They didn't.
Seamus began tearing into the chicken leg, holding it with one hand whilst juice trailed down his chin.
Lucy realized she was ravenous. She'd been too nervous to eat before the concert and so hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Following Seamus’s example, she ripped into the chicken leg, wolfing it down in a few bites and then doing the same with the crusty bread.
"Better?" Seamus asked.
Lucy nodded. The simple act of sharing a meal, and perhaps the whisky, had calmed her nerves a little and she could finally think straight. It was clear that she was still in Scotland, albeit a good distance from where she had been last night. Irene MacAskill must be responsible for this. The only logical explanation was that the old woman had drugged her, kidnapped her, and brought her to this place.
But if so then why had Irene left her here? Why had she not taken the watch and jewelry that Lucy was wearing? Why had the old woman then disappeared, leaving Lucy out here alone?
Lucy had no answers to any of these questions. But she was unharmed, unbound and all she had to do was find the nearest settlement and call the police. Then maybe she could sort this bizarre mess out.
Yes, she definitely felt a little calmer.
Seamus watched her from across the crackling fire. "So, lass," he said. “Are ye up to telling me what yer doing out here?"
"I honestly don't know," she said. "I think I might have been kidnapped."
Seamus’s eyes widened. “Ye mean brigands took ye?”
"Yes, I suppose you could call her that. I need to get to the nearest phone, Seamus. Would you be able to help me do that?"
"I dinna ken what ye mean by the word ‘phone,’ my lady, but I'm traveling to Stowe to sell my horses. Mayhap ye'll find what ye need there. Ye are welcome to travel with me." He looked around as if to check they were alone. He licked his lips again.
Lucy had never heard of Stowe but there she should be able to find a phone and perhaps a hotel where she could rent a room and have a bath. "Yes I’d like that. Thanks.”
She glanced at Seamus’s horses. There were three of them, idly cropping at the grass. Lucy didn’t know much about horses but they looked like good stock to her. “Are you a horse breeder?”
Seamus shifted uncomfortably. “Not really. I’m a farmer. But I’m being forced to sell my horses to feed my family. The laird is a cruel man. He takes everything from us and leaves us nothing to live on. What is a man to do?”
“Laird?” Lucy asked. “What’s that?”
Seamus looked at her as if she was daft. “The lord. We’re on the land of the Harris clan. Didnae ye know that?”
“No. I didn’t. I’m not from around here.”
Seamus snorted. “I’d guessed that, my lady. Ye have a funny way of speaking. Anyway, as I was saying, Andrew Harris, the laird, is a hard, cruel man. He beats his servants and makes his tenants live in squalor whilst he lives like a king.”
“So why don’t they make a complaint? Go to the police or something?”
“The what? They could make a complaint to the king but what king will listen to a peasant over a lord?”
Lucy sat back. This conversation was getting very confusing. King? Lord? Peasants? What was Seamus going on about?
“What king?”
He gave her that look again. The one that suggested he thought she was crazy. “King James of course. He succeeded his father to the throne in the Year of Our Lord 1513 although the Duke of Albany stands as regent until the king comes of age.”
Lucy burst out laughing. “Right. Of course. Good one. You must think I’m-”
She trailed off as a sound caught her attention. A low drumming carried on the air. It took a moment for her to recognize the sound of hoof beats. Seamus sprang to his feet, a look of terror on his face. Lucy stared in shock as a horse and rider crested the hill and came galloping straight at them.
Chapter 5
“HOLD, THIEF!” THE RIDER bellowed.
He drew out something long and shining which he held above his head. Lucy goggled. It was a sword.
“Lord save me!” Seamus gasped. “It’s him! He’s found me!”
“Who?” Lucy asked.
“Laird Harris! Good Lord, protect me!”
He ran to one of the horses and began trying to mount but the horse had been unsaddled and it shied at Seamus’s attempts to mount bareback. Seamus gave a panicked glance at the approaching rider then took off, running into the heather as fast as his legs could carry him.
The rider pulled to a halt right in front of Lucy and jumped from the saddle. “Are ye all right, my lady?” The man demanded. “Has this scoundrel hurt ye?”
Lucy got a quick look at a hard, stern face framed by dark curls before he strode past her, chasing Seamus into the heather. He held his sword in a two-handed grip, ready to strike.
Lucy watched, too stunned to move. What the hell was going on?
“I’m sorry!” Seamus cried, as the man gained on him. “Please dinna hurt me!”
The newcomer was only a few paces behind Seamus now. The sword glinted in the sunlight. With a jolt of fear, Lucy realized the man was serious. He intended to use that sword on Seamus!
She peered around, desperate for a way to distract him. She hurried over to the man’s horse and grabbed the reins. “Hey, you!” she yelled. “Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size? Want your horse? Come and get it!”
The newcomer skidded to a stop and looked back. “That’s my horse, woman!” he bellowed. “Take yer hands of her!”
“Then leave Seamus alone!”
He hesitated. Lucy began pulling the horse along in the opposite direction. It wasn’t easy trying to run in her evening dress but Lucy did her best.
“Stop!” the man bellowed. “Bring back my horse!”
“Not until you leave him alone, you asshole!” she bellowed back.
He growled something unintelligible and began running back towards Lucy. She led the horse more quickly, breaking into a jog. He gained on her rapidly and a wave of fear went through her. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea. This guy might be a complete psycho for all she knew and if everything Seamus said about this Laird Harris was correct, then he certainly wasn't the kind of man you wanted to annoy.
Yes, she definitely hadn't thought this through.
/> “Stop where ye are!" The angry shout came from behind her. "I order ye to stop right now!"
She risked a glance behind and saw him only a few paces away. Lucy dropped the horse’s reins, hoping he’d go after the horse rather than her. He didn't. Lucy's breath started burning in her chest and although she was now running as fast as she could, the dress whipping around her ankles, the man was still gaining on her.
Then suddenly he leapt, colliding with the back of her legs. With a yelp, Lucy went hurtling to the ground. The man grabbed her waist and flipped her over. Lucy did the only thing she could think of. She kicked him between the legs.
The man yowled and doubled over in pain, crashing to his knees. Lucy saw her chance. She turned to run but the man was quicker than she expected. He clutched her arm. With a cry, Lucy slammed her fists into his chest, just like she'd been taught in her self-defense classes, and the man thudded onto his back.
However, his grip on her arm didn’t slacken, yanking Lucy down on top of him. She found herself straddling his chest.
“Let me go!” she shouted.
“Not a chance!” he growled. “Ye tried to steal my horse!”
Lucy struggled in his grip but he caught her other arm and held her fast. It was a stalemate. She couldn't move while he held her and he couldn't move while she sat on his chest.
Lucy glared down at the man. He was younger than she’d expected, perhaps only a couple of years older than herself. This guy was a lord of some kind? She expected them all to be old. Deep brown eyes stared at her from beneath eyebrows pulled into a frown. Wavy hair the color of freshly tilled earth spread out in a halo around his head. His chest, which was currently her seat, was broad and obviously muscular. The arms that held her in a strong grip were bare to the shoulders and corded with muscle.
She realized, with a shock, that Laird Andrew Harris was seriously good-looking. She found herself caught by his gaze and couldn't look away. There was an intensity there that seemed to grab hold of her. For his part, the frown melted and instead he gazed up at her with an expression she couldn't quite fathom.
"Are you going to let me go? Or are we going to sit here like this all day?”
"That depends doesnae it?"
"On what?"
"Whether ye are gonna try to steal my horse again."
"I wasn't trying to steal your horse!" Lucy said indignantly. "I was just trying to stop you hurting Seamus!"
"I wasnae gonna hurt him. I was gonna arrest him.”
“Not hurt him? So why did you chase him carrying a God-damned sword?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Ye think he would have come quietly had I asked politely?”
Lucy opened her mouth and then closed it again. “Look, I promise I won't try anything. Can I get up now?"
He gazed at her for a moment as if suspicious of her motives but then released his grip. Lucy scrambled to her feet and stood rubbing her arms where his fingers had been. The man had a grip like iron.
Without taking his eyes off Lucy, he climbed to his feet. "Who are ye?” he demanded. “Who are ye working for? And why would a lady such as ye be involved in this?"
"I'm sorry?" Lucy said. "Involved in what?"
"Dinna try to play the innocent with me, lass. It willnae work. Ye know exactly what I'm talking about. I've been tracking ye all day. Ever since ye stole my horses last night."
Stole his horses? What was this lunatic talking about?
Lucy crossed her arms. "Would you listen? I know nothing about your horses, stolen or otherwise. And neither does Seamus. He's just taking his horses to sell at market. Isn't that right, Seamus?"
She looked around but there was no sign of the man. The campfire still burned but his gear was gone and so were the horses.
Her assailant crossed his arms in imitation of Lucy and raised an eyebrow. "Seems yer friend has abandoned ye.”
Lucy turned in a circle. Seamus had to be here somewhere. He’d promised to take her to Stowe. He wouldn't just abandon her, surely?
"I don't understand," she said. "He was here just a minute ago."
"And now he's not. I was an idiot to fall for yer distraction. Nay doubt ye planned this between the two of ye in case I should happen to catch up with ye.”
"Are you listening?” Lucy snapped. “I only met Seamus a little while ago. He promised to take me to a settlement where I could call the police. Other than that, I've no idea who he is."
Laird Harris didn't look convinced one bit. His handsome face was stern and his eyes cold. "What's yer name, lass?”
She lifted her chin and glared at him defiantly. "Lucy. Lucy Jennings."
To her surprise, he gave a small bow. "My name is Laird Andrew Harris.”
“I know who you are. Seamus told me all about you."
Something flashed in his eyes. Anger? "And ye would believe what a horse thief tells ye?”
“He’s no thief!” she cried. “Like I said, he was taking his horses to market—”
She trailed off as realization sank in. The evidence was right before her. Or not before her, rather. The fact that Seamus had run off, taking the horses with him, suggested that everything Harris said was correct. A wave of embarrassment and anger flooded through her. Oh hell. What was she going to do now?
“I'm telling you the truth. Only a few hours ago I was playing a concert. Then this woman, Irene MacAskill, kidnapped me and brought me here. All I want to do is find a phone and get hold of the police. I promise you I have nothing to do with any stolen horses."
His eyes narrowed. "Irene MacAskill did ye say?”
“Yes! Do you know her?"
A strange look crossed his face. For a moment, he seemed uncertain. "I wouldnae say I know her. I met her on the trail this morning. It was she who sent me this way."
“Then she’s still in the area!” Lucy cried, hope flaring. “Please, you have to take me to her! She’s the only one who can explain what the hell is going on!”
"I canna do that. For one thing, I've no idea where she might be found. I'd never heard of the woman until today and by now she could be anywhere. And secondly, ye are under arrest for horse stealing."
Lucy gaped at him. Under arrest? She backed away, suddenly frightened. “But I've already told you that I had nothing to do with that!"
He shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Until I know the truth of it I canna let ye go. Ye will come with me back to Dun Arnwick. For now, ye are a prisoner of the Harris clan.”
Lucy looked around in a panic, desperate for some way out of this. Oh God. How had this happened? She was beginning to wish she’d never met Irene dratted MacAskill.
She swallowed. “Okay. Fine.” She held out her hands, wrists together. “I’ll come with you.”
He glanced at her offered wrists. “What are ye doing, lass?”
“Aren’t you going to cuff me?”
“Cuff ye?”
“That’s what you normally do with criminals don’t you? I’ve seen the cop shows. I know how this works.”
“I’m nay gonna tie ye up lass if that’s what ye think,” he said. “I dinna ken how ladies are treated where ye are from, but we certainly dinna tie them up on Harris lands." He looked around at the empty countryside and shrugged. "Besides, do ye not think I'll be able to catch ye easily if ye try to run?"
He had a point. She marched over to his horse. "Well? I take it we’ll be traveling on this thing? What are you waiting for? The sooner we get to your house the sooner I can call the police!"
Andrew Harris opened his mouth as if to speak then thought better of it. He approached Lucy and put one hand on the horse’s saddle to steady her. "Here, let me help ye up."
Lucy stepped towards him but her foot caught on the hem of her dress and she tripped. In a flash, Harris darted forward and Lucy found herself caught in his arms with her palms against his chest. She looked up to find him staring down at her.
Then he cleared his throat and helped Lucy to her feet before taking her by the waist and
boosting her into the saddle. He swung up easily behind her, settled his weight and took the reins. In only moments, they were riding steadily away from the chapel.
Lucy couldn't help gazing back over her shoulder. The chapel was her only link to Irene. It felt unsettling to be leaving it behind.
Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. He's taking you to the town. There'll be a phone and police station. I’ll finally sort out this mess and get back to where I’m supposed to be.
Harris didn't speak as they rode. He was a towering, brooding presence at Lucy’s back. He held the reins in both hands and so Lucy was trapped between his arms. It wasn't an unpleasant experience but his brooding silence made the ride uncomfortable. There were so many things she wanted to ask but she kept her mouth clamped shut.
As they reached the top of a hill, a strange sound came to Lucy's ears. It sounded like...the sea?
Sure enough, as they topped the rise Lucy saw the sparkling ocean spreading out before them. The trail wound close to a cliff that fell away steeply to rocks far below. The cry of gulls filled the air.
Lucy stared, hardly able to believe her eyes. "We're on an island!"
"Of course," Harris said. "This is the Isle of Skye. Where did ye expect to be?”
"But... but that's not possible! I was on the mainland, miles from here. Jesus, how long was I unconscious? How did that old woman bring me all the way out here?" Panic began to rise in her belly again and she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths in order to remain calm.
Harris said nothing and Lucy wondered whether he believed a single word she said. He probably thought she was crazy with all the stuff she'd been babbling about. Well, he'd have another think coming once she got to the police station.
"Ye look shocked, lass,” Harris observed.
"Shocked? That’s about right," Lucy replied. "This is all insane. I don't recognize anything. I'm not from around here."
Harris snorted. "Aye, I guessed. I can tell from yer accent, lass, that ye are no Highlander. What accent is that? Spanish?”
“Spanish?” she cried indignantly. "I'm American, obviously!"
