Or at least she had tried to. She hadn’t taken three steps when large arms encircled her waist and pulled her off her feet.
“Wheesht, me lady!”
She recognized that voice. It did not belong to Rowan or any of his men. Fear enveloped her clear to her toes. Why on earth was he here and why had he taken her?
Rowan and his men pounded across the countryside, following the wagon tracks. He could not help but feel that he would soon find the wagon and the men who had taken his Arline. They’d been riding for nearly an hour, hell-bent for leather, chasing down the whoresons. A wagon could not travel as fast or cover as much ground as a man on horseback, especially a man like Rowan Graham. With unwavering determination to get his bride back, he urged his horse on. Mud and slush kicked up with each thundering step his mount took, splattering his boots and legs, and occasionally, his face.
Sweat blended with mud, fury with agonizing worry over Arline. He had to get her back, he could not lose her, not now, not after all they had gone through.
They continued to follow the road as it wound its way north and west. His dread and fury grew exponentially with each gut wrenching moment that passed by without coming upon the wagon.
Joan had told them that the men were taking Arline to the ruins of an auld kirk that lay near Loch Rannoch. Once they were there, they were to kill her and leave her body for the scavengers and wolves.
The tracks headed in that direction. Rowan prayed that the men would do as they’d been instructed and not decide to kill her sooner. He swore that if he found her alive, he’d never allow her a moment alone. She’d be under constant guard, four men surrounding her at all times when she was not with him. He would spend every waking moment protecting her.
Soon, they came upon a bend in the road. Not far ahead was the wagon they had been searching for. It was stopped in the middle of the road and he could not see anyone. Not the driver, his accomplice nor Arline. His heart plummeted to his feet, his dread crashing around him.
They raced toward the wagon. Rowan slid from his horse before it had even stopped. He rushed forward with his sword drawn. He saw the empty carpet lying on the ground, quickly inspected it for signs of blood. Nothing.
Findley and Duncan had soon approached, with swords at the ready. They walked to the front of the wagon. Fresh blood covered the seat and the floor.
“Rowan!” Duncan called out as he began to scan the forest.
Rowan rushed to the front of the wagon and followed Findley’s gaze. “Blood?” he asked.
“Aye, and lots of it.” Findley answered.
Rowan ordered the men to fan out and search for Arline and what might be left of the two men. Rowan was encased in dread and fear as he tried to figure out what had happened.
With Beatrice’s help, two men had stolen Arline away from the keep. Now the two men were missing and so was Arline. Had she somehow managed to kill the two men, then flee?
A warning niggled at the back of his mind. It was his fervent hope that she had somehow managed to stab the two men. Mayhap she had only wounded them and they were now chasing her through the woods.
“Rowan! Here!” a voice called out not far from where he stood.
He, Findley and Duncan followed the voice. They soon came upon one of Rowan’s men. He was looking down at the ground.
Rowan braced himself for the worst and followed the man’s gaze.
He’d found the drivers.
Their throats had been cut and they’d been tossed on atop the other on the ground. Rowan knew that Arline did not possess the strength to carry the men this far from the road. He surveyed the ground and found no signs they had been drug. They’d been carried.
He crouched low, looking for some sign, something, anything to guide him on what he should do next. He found a pair of boot prints in the snow. They led to the two men, then away, back toward the wagon.
Rowan led his friends and men back to the wagon where they immediately began to look for more signs. Duncan found a set of boot prints, similar to those they’d discovered in the woods. He also found a set of hoof prints.
“Looks like one man, one horse,” Duncan said as he studied the tracks. “They look verra fresh and run to the east. I do no’ think we’re far behind them.”
Rowan ground his jaws together and wound his hands into fists. He found himself in the same position he was in just a few short hours ago. Someone had taken Arline and he had no bloody idea who or why.
“Mount up!” Rowan barked as he headed to his horse.
He’d get her back, one way or another.
They had not been riding long when she figured out that he had lied to her when he said he was taking her back to Áit na Síochána. They were travelling in the opposite direction. He had lied. He wasn’t taking her home.
At first, she thought she could trust him, for he was one of the shadow men. He had killed the two men who had taken her and promised that he was there to help her. “I’ll take ye home, me lady,” he had promised with a smile.
In hindsight, she should have inquired as to which home. They were heading toward Blackthorn lands. Certainly, he could not mean to take her there.
Her arms were wrapped around his waist as she rode behind him. Her wedding dress had not been designed for travel and did little to keep out the cold. The hem was now ruined, wet from all the mud and slush the horse kicked up as they travelled through the woods.
She knew the further they rode away from Áit na Síochána, the less chance Rowan had of finding her. In her heart she knew he had figured out she was missing. He loved her and he would come for her, of that, she had no doubt.
In order to survive whatever lay ahead of her, she knew she must feign ignorance and trust. She decided to play along and at the same time, try to gain some information as to why Archie had supposedly come to her rescue only to end up lying to her.
“Archie,” she said as she adjust her rump. “How did ye come to find me?”
“I was at Áit na Síochána, watchin’ over ye as is me sworn duty. When we learned ye’d been taken, I set off before the others to find ye.”
She did not believe him. “I see,” she murmured. “Where exactly are we goin’ now? I do no’ think Áit na Síochána, is in this direction.”
“I didn’t say I was takin’ ye back to Áit na Síochána, me lady.”
She sat upright. “But ye said ye were taken me home.” Familiar panic began to rise and she hoped he had not detected it.
“Aye, I did.”
She was growing frustrated with his elusive answers. “But me home is Áit na Síochána.”
She felt him grow tense. He hunched his shoulder and cracked his neck. “It was yer home, me lady. I fear I canna take ye back there.”
“Why not?” Even she detected the fear in her own voice.
“I canna let ye marry Rowan Graham. I ken that is what ye want, but I canna let ye do that.”
“Please, Archie, explain to me why ye canna allow it?”
“I need ye to marry another.”
Her mouth opened in surprise. “Marry another? I do no’ understand, Archie.”
He let out a frustrated breath. “Yer da waits no’ far from here. We have another that ye must marry and we need ye to do it fer Scotland.”
What the bloody hell did he mean by that? “Marry someone fer the good of Scotland?”
He responded with a nod. “I be sorry, me lady, but we’ve no’ other choice. Ye need to marry the man we’ve chosen fer yet.”
“We?” she asked indignantly. “Who is we?”
He remained silent for a time. “How much do ye ken of yer last two marriages?”
She told him she didn’t understand his question.
“Yer marriage to Carlich turned out to be quite fortuitous for Robert Stewart. When yer da learned how helpful ye’d been at rootin’ out two of the traitors, he came to Robert with an offer. In exchange for a substantial amount of coin, he’d work with Robert to arrange another marr
iage with another suspected traitor.”
Her blood ran cold and the hairs on her neck rose.
“We long suspected Lombard de Sotuhans. We had been workin’ a verra long time to prove he was funneling money to the small group of men who want to bring Scotland to her knees and see England rein over her. We believed ye’d be a verra good distraction for de Sotuhans. Ye could keep him busy while we sought the information we needed.”
Robert Stewart had betrayed her. He had sworn that he would always protect her, had given her a letter to use if ever she were in trouble and the shadow men could not be found. In the end, he had betrayed her trust. The knowledge left her chilled to the bone.
“But the fool died before we could get ye to him.”
Where on earth would she be at this moment if the man had not died?
“We had also long suspected the elder Blackthorn as well. I was the one that suggested to Garrick that he add the stipulation of no bairns to the contract. It was the only way to get him to agree. If he hadn’t, ye’d a been married to his da.”
Another small miracle. Though Garrick’s father was not as mean and heartless as his son, the thought of being married to him made her ill.
“So I’ve been nothin’ more than an unwitting spy?” she spoke into his back.
He answered with stone silence.
She was nothing more than a pawn to be used by Robert Stewart and her father. She had grown up knowing her father did not care about her happiness. But she had trusted Robert Stewart. His betrayal of her trust left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Me lady, I ken that ye love Rowan. He’s a good man,” Archie said as he looked over his shoulder at her. “But the marriage has already been arranged. We’ve three men left that we suspect of workin’ with the English.”
“Bah!” Arline cried out. “Do ye expect me to marry all three?”
“Nay, me lady. We hope that ye’ll be able to get the information we need from Phillip Randall. If yer successful, ye’ll be rewarded with a home of yer own, anywhere ye wish to live. ’Tis fer the good of Scotland that ye must do this. Mayhap, Rowan will wait fer ye and ye can marry him in the future.”
She knew he was trying to appeal to her sense of honor and loyalty. He was also dangling a bit of hope in front of her nose. But wait to marry Rowan? She made a decision then and there. Slowly, she let her arms go slack and she slid from the horse.
Wait to marry Rowan? Not bloody likely!
Rowan and his men raced across the glen and followed the tracks into another dense thicket of woods. There, they were forced to slow their pace, which sent Rowan’s anger to new heights. When doubt as to Arline’s safety and well-being crept in, he pushed them away. He could not think of her injured, harmed, or dead. When he did, his heart would sink with the weight of heartache he had not felt since Kate’s death.
There was not as much deep snow in this part of the forest for it was protected under the wide canopy of evergreen trees. The trees themselves were blanketed with snow, but the ground was more mud and slush than anything else.
The men walked for a time and eventually picked up the tracks again. They had turned in a northwesterly direction. Looking up at the sun taking its late afternoon descent, Rowan mumbled a curse and started for his horse. He had to find her before nightfall. Without lanterns or torches, ’twould be next to impossible to follow their tracks.
Rowan was just about to mount his horse again when Findley held up his hand. “Listen!” he said in a sharp whisper.
Rowan strained his ears. For a moment, all he could hear was the breeze as it tickled the evergreens. Moments later, he thought he heard a shout coming from up ahead. His heart pounded as he climbed onto his horse and urged he and his men forward.
There was a possibility that it was nothing more than a farmer out searching for an errant cow. His heart raced as they made their way through the evergreens. Please, God, let it be Arline and let her be well.
She ran from Archie as if he were the devil. With the hem of her dress clutched tightly in one hand, she tore through the trees and brush. An overwhelming sense of deja vu fell over her. She’d fled through trees and thick underbrush months ago to get away from Garrick’s men. Now she fled to get away from a man sworn to protect her.
Arline did not worry that he’d kill her if he caught her. Nay, she was far too important to the ridiculous scheme her father had concocted.
She didn’t necessarily run in hopes of freedom. Nay, it was nothing more than a means to delay what was most likely the inevitable. If she could find a decent place to hide, she could wait until Rowan found her. That was her sole goal at running; to stall, to find Rowan the time he’d need to find her.
She ignored his calls for her to stop. Dipping under low hanging branches, crashing through bare bushes, she ran in zigzag fashion in hopes of confusing him with her tracks.
Not knowing if he remained on his horse or had left it to chase her on foot, she continued to run as fast as her legs would carry her. The cold snow and slush stung her slippered feet, the branches scratched at her dress. Still, she pushed forward.
Not far ahead she saw a large felled tree. She ran around it, stopped long enough to see if it would make a good hiding place. It had fallen over a good sized dip in the land. If she could wriggle her way under it, she could hide from Archie.
His voice was growing nearer as he called out for her to come back. Not very likely!
“Ye’ll freeze to death, me lady!” Archie’s voice rang through the trees. “I canna allow ye to die! Come back and we’ll start a fire!”
She’d rather freeze to death than return to Archie and subsequently her father. She ran around a few evergreens and backtracked to the log. Panting, covered in sweat, she dug her way through the slush. There was not much room, but enough that should anyone walk by they could not see her. She lay on her side with her back pressed against the cold earth and prayed.
Rowan did not know who it was that was yelling. He could barely make out what the man was shouting. But it was enough that he could ascertain the man was yelling for Arline.
Rowan and the others dismounted, leaving their horses where they stood. Not one man made a sound as Rowan waved directions for them to fan out. Rowan and Findley carefully made their way through the band of evergreens while the rest of the men spread out.
The man’s shouting drew nearer and became clearer.
“Damn it, Arline! I need ye to come back!”
Rowan and Findley gave each other a curious glance as they stilled themselves to listen further. Hope rose with the realization that Arline was alive!
“I swear if ye do no’ come back, I’ll kill Rowan meself!”
Rowan stiffened. Whoever this stranger was, he knew Arline well enough to call her by her first name and to threaten her with Rowan’s life. Rowan sent a silent prayer that Arline would not cower to the man’s threats.
Rowan nodded at Findley and pointed him to wind his way around to the east, while Rowan set off for the west. His goal was to surround the man and bring him down before he could find Arline.
As stealthy as cat-o-mountains surrounding unsuspecting prey, Rowan and Findley spread out, careful to listen for Arline as well as the stranger.
Arline heard Archie’s footfalls as he approached her hiding place. She watched as his booted feet stomped through the slush as he passed by. Holding her breath, her body stiffening with fear as he continued to call out his threats.
“I swear it, Arline! By God I swear I’ll kill him! If ye want to see Rowan live, ye’ll come back now!”
Arline was confident that that would not happen. Rowan was a warrior who could take care of himself. She’d not let Archie’s threats make her fearful.
She closed her eyes and tried to take in slow breaths as she listened to Archie continue his tirade.
“And after I kill Rowan? I will kill his daughter!”
Her heart leapt to her throat. Lily. Lily could not defend herself. She was but a babe!
What if Archie grew weary of chasing Arline and returned to the keep? He was supposed to be a protector, not a killer, of innocents!
Archie’s first and only allegiance was to Scotland. His sole purpose in life was to ensure Scotland remained free. If that meant killing an innocent child, then so be it. Scotland was bigger than any one person.
Bile rose, she chased it back and swallowed. If anything happened to Lily, she could never forgive herself. Rowan would never be the same.
She was not given the opportunity to weigh her options or devise any further plans of escape or keeping Lily safe. A large hand reached into her tiny hiding spot, grabbed her by her hair and yanked her out.
She did not go without a fight. Kicking, screaming, clawing, she fought against Archie.
“Settle yerself down!” he barked, grabbing her arms and hoisting her to her feet.
She saw it then, plainly, without question or doubt. Sheer, unadulterated anger and determination stared back at her through hazel eyes. In that instant, she knew, Archie would do whatever he must to get her to her father, to secure Scotland’s future.
“I swear, I’ll kill every last person that ye love, if you do no’ listen to me!” Squeezing her arms, he shook her violently.
To her soul, she believed him.
Giving her a good yank, he pulled her along, back to where he’d left his horse. “Do no’ even think of runnin’ away again, me lady. I’ll no’ look fer ye again. I’ll go straight back to Áit na Síochána.”
She was too angry to cry. Believing that if she could slow down their pace, Rowan would be able to find her and put an end to this mess. “I’m of an age!” she spat at him. “I no longer have to heed me da’s bidding!”
Archie stopped, spun her around and grabbed her arms again. “’Tisn’t yer da’s bidding, but mine! Ye do this because it be the right thing to do.” His voice was low, menacing. It sent shivers running up and down Arline’s spine.
He had tried appealing to her sense of honor and loyalty, had threatened to kill everyone she loved. Now, he flung her own words at her, wielding them like a weapon.
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