Please don't let them hurt Jamie, she prayed over and over.
In the wood, the men ran with her through the damp leaves. Abruptly, her captor set her to her feet. She swayed, all the blood rushing from her head leaving her dizzy.
Claybourne stood before her with a disgusting grin upon his face. "M'lady, 'tis so grand to see you again."
"Go to hell, Claybourne," she said through gritted teeth, her head pounding.
He gasped. "I'm shocked at your language, my darling." He chuckled.
"Where is my son?"
"In a safe place, but only as long as you come with me peacefully and pay your debt to me without complaint. Once we get to my home, you can see him."
She clenched her fists. "If you hurt him…."
"Aye?" He raised arrogant brows.
"You will regret it. Mark my words."
Claybourne laughed.
Bastard! She wished she could grab his dagger and stab him now, but—she glanced around at the dozen or more men surrounding them—she could never get away with it.
She would endure any torture in order to save her son's life. But once he was safe, she would find a way to kill Claybourne, or make him wish he was dead.
"Come. You may ride with me, my dear." Claybourne grinned. "I will enjoy the carnal torture."
Calla's stomach turned, and she almost gagged.
Chapter Thirteen
In the quiet, dark corridor, Rebbie tapped his knuckles lightly at Calla's door. 'Twas late and all the other men were abed, tired from their travels. He couldn't sleep until he'd talked to her and tried to learn her secrets. How would he find out why she'd been spying on him in the hidden passage at Draughon without revealing that Angelique had given the information to Lachlan?
Despite not trusting her fully, he yearned for another kiss from her… and more. He hungered for her as if she were sustenance and he a famished man. He'd planned to keep his hands to himself, but the darker the night became, the more fiercely he craved her, like in the wood. The delectable scent of her, the sweet taste of her mouth, her soft curves against him… she distracted him, making him feel daft half the time.
He heard naught from beyond the door. Was she asleep already? He knocked again, a wee bit louder, but still not loud enough to alert anyone else sleeping in a nearby room.
No response.
He unlatched the door and stuck his head inside. By the low-burning fire in the hearth, he could see her nowhere in the room.
"What the devil?" he whispered and entered. "Calla?" he said in a louder tone. He dropped to his knees and looked beneath the bed. She wasn't there, of course. Why would she be? Where had she gone? To the kitchen for some food? Or had she slipped to his room and somehow they'd missed each other?
He returned to his chamber first. She was not there. Next, he descended the two flights of stairs to the kitchen. 'Twas empty but still warm from the fires and the exterior door locked.
Where the hell was she? Fear for her safety sent prickles over him and increased his heart rate.
After rushing up the steps and entering the great hall, where several men's snores filled the silence, he approached MacDade and MacKinney, who posed as lookouts while the other men slept. "Lady Stanbury has disappeared. I need for you to help me find her."
"Aye, m'laird."
"MacKinney, go search the barracks and other outbuildings."
The man nodded and hastened out the door.
Rebbie ran up the stairs to the servants' quarters on the third floor and knocked on Mistress Hillman's door. She yanked open the portal, her kerchief askew and her eyes wide. "M'laird? What is it?"
"Lady Stanbury is missing. I need for you to search the rest of the servants' rooms for her."
"Oh, missing, m'laird! How can it be?"
"I know not."
"Don't you worry. I'll look for her."
"I thank you."
The only remaining rooms were where the lairds slept, and she couldn't be in one of those, surely. Only one way to find out. He would have to wake everyone in the castle.
He knocked on the door of the chamber where Lachlan slept. "Aye?" his friend called, then opened the door.
"Calla is missing. I need help finding her."
Lachlan frowned. "Of course. Where could she be?" Already wearing a long shirt, he grabbed his plaid from a chair and belted it about his waist.
"I wish I knew. Will you ask Alasdair to help, too?"
"Aye."
Next, Rebbie pounded on his father's door. Grumbling sounded from inside and a few curses. Moments later, his father yanked open the door, his long hair mussed. "What is it?" he snapped.
"Lady Stanbury is missing. I need everyone to help look for her."
"Well, she's not in here!"
"I didn't think she was," Rebbie growled. "But she could be in danger and we need to find her." He headed off along the corridor.
Calla wouldn't be hiding somewhere in the castle. Why would she? How could she have gotten outside the castle, and why?
A quarter hour later, Calla still hadn't been found.
"Has anyone seen Lady Stanbury?" Rebbie asked the crowd gathered in the great hall. Some murmured nay, while others shook their heads. Arms crossed over his chest, his father frowned and eyed him critically. But Rebbie didn't care what his father thought.
"Who was the last person that saw her? Mistress Hillman, you took her supper up to her, aye?"
"Indeed, m'laird. And then one of the maids, Lila, went and fetched her tray."
A young woman standing beside her nodded.
"Did she say anything to either of you?" Rebbie asked.
Lila shook her head, while Mistress Hillman said, "Naught out of the ordinary."
Damn, but it made no sense. Rebbie rarely felt fear, and he hated the icy cold of it gripping every muscle of his body. "Was she dressed to go outside?"
"Nay, when I saw her, she was ready to retire for the night," Lila said.
"The whole situation is madness," Lachlan muttered.
An alarming thought sliced through Rebbie, and he searched the faces around him. "Where is MacFadden?"
"I saw him going into the steward's lodgings a few minutes ago," MacDade said.
Rebbie charged toward the exit and outside into the courtyard. Damn the man! If he had something to do with Calla's disappearance…. "MacFadden!" he yelled, the night wind whipping his voice away.
The man stuck his head out of the steward's chamber. "Aye, m'laird." His voice echoed across the courtyard.
Rebbie strode toward him. "Where have you been?"
"O-out here." He motioned to the rooms behind him.
"Have you seen Lady Stanbury?"
"N-n-nay, m-m'laird," he stammered, then fidgeted.
Rebbie frowned. The man seemed damned nervous. "If you're lying to me…." Rebbie pointed at him.
"Rebbie!" Lachlan approached. "One of the guards found this in the back garden." Lachlan handed him a squashed red rose. "Could it be a clue?"
He'd given her a rose yesterday, but surely this wasn't the same one. "On the ground?"
"Aye. Between the kitchen door and the postern gate. Nowhere near the rose bush."
"Why would she have gone out the postern gate? And how? She didn't have a key." Frowning, he scrutinized MacFadden again. "Did you have a key to that gate?"
His eyes widened. "N-nay, m'laird. You took my keys days ago."
"Aye, but you could've had an extra one hidden somewhere."
Raising his brows, he shook his head. "N-nay, I wouldn't do something like that."
Every instinct Rebbie possessed told him MacFadden was lying. He should've tossed the man out on his arse the first moment he saw him.
"Saddle the horses! And be quick about it!" he commanded the stable lads standing nearby. "Help them," he told the guards, who rushed to do his bidding.
He grabbed MacFadden by the front of his shirt. "Listen to me, you bastard," he growled low. "If you've done something that causes
Lady Stanbury to be hurt, I'm going to hurt you. Bad. Now, where is she?"
"I-I-I kn-kn…"
His patience at an end, Rebbie shoved the man toward MacDade. "Lock him in the dungeon. I'll deal with him later."
"Aye, m'laird."
"Have you a good tracker?" he asked Lachlan.
"Aye. Matthew?" Lachlan called out and a stocky man strode forth.
"Let's go to the back garden," Rebbie said.
Once there, Matthew Drummagan held the torch close to the ground. "Aye, footprints here in the mud. Looks to have been several men, mayhap three or four."
Once outside the postern gate, they found the bruised grass and tracks. Everyone followed them to the wood.
"The leaves are torn up here, all about," Matthew said. "Many men and horses have been here very recently. Within the last hour or two."
"Damnation," Rebbie growled. "That whoreson MacFadden must have helped Claybourne kidnap her." Fear for her safety lanced through his chest, chilling him. "I'll kill the bastard," he said through clenched teeth. "Let's get the horses. They can't have much of a lead."
"Aye," Lachlan and Alasdair agreed. They all hurried back to the bailey. Thankfully, the horses were saddled.
His father rushed toward him. "Where in blazes are you going, Robert?" he said gruffly.
"After Claybourne. He's surely followed you and the other men here, then somehow manipulated MacFadden into helping him get Lady Stanbury out of the castle."
"Are you mad? You cannot go charging after him in the dark."
"I can and I will."
"She's not worth risking your life for, son. She's but a—"
"You don't ken anything about her," Rebbie growled. If his father called her a vile name, he was unsure if he could restrain himself from punching him in the nose. He mounted Devil and rode out with the other men. The guards had lit several more torches and lanterns to light their way.
Rebbie wanted to ride as fast as Devil could run, but they had to allow Matthew to track the blackguards. But once the men had left the wood, 'twas clear by the multitude of tracks along the narrow muddy trail which way they had gone. The quickest and most logical way to travel south.
Soon, they saw torches in the distance, moving.
"'Tis them," Rebbie said. "We can catch up easily."
"What is the plan?" Lachlan asked, raising his voice to be heard above the horses' hooves pounding the ground. "We must approach carefully, else they might hurt the lady."
"Aye." Rebbie forced himself to calm down and slowed Devil. "Halt!" he called out to the men. Once everyone had gathered around, he said, "We slip up on them, and make sure they have Lady Stanbury. If they do, we take out the rear guards first."
The men nodded.
After riding a short distance, they left the torches and lanterns with a couple of guards and advanced the rest of the way through the dim moonlight so as to give Claybourne no warning.
As Rebbie approached the rear guard, 'twas easier to see all of them because of their torches and lanterns. Toward the front of their group, Calla's long blond hair gleamed in the low light where she sat before Claybourne. The bastard. Rebbie wanted to draw his pistol and take the man out now but he had to be patient and make sure no one harmed Calla.
One of the rear guards glanced around at him as he came up beside him. With a shove to his shoulder, Rebbie knocked him from the horse. The man squalled and his horse let out a scream.
Rebbie didn't want to have to kill these bastards, but they'd forced his hand.
Lachlan and Alasdair approached the group of riders from the other side.
Claybourne and his men whipped their horses into a faster gallop. Rebbie grasped another man's cloak and yanked him backward. He fell over his horse's haunches to the ground. Lachlan did the same to another of the men.
Rebbie drew his sword. He was finished playing games. The guard closest to Claybourne wheeled his horse about, drew his sword, and struck out. Rebbie deflected the blow and delivered one of his own. Clangs sounded as they fought. The tip of the other blade nicked Rebbie's shoulder. The pain sharpening his rage, he intensified his attack. With the next slice of his sword, he cut the man's throat. Screaming, he fell to the ground.
Four other guards broke away from Claybourne to hang back and fight.
He urged Devil forward and quickly dispatched two of them. Thanks to Lachlan and Alasdair, all four guards lay on the ground within seconds and their horses fled.
Rebbie and the others continued along the narrow trail following Claybourne. But even after several minutes, they didn't come upon them.
"Where the hell did they go?" Rebbie grumbled and drew up. Alasdair, Lachlan and the other men stopped beside him. In the silence, they turned this way and that. No torchlight showed from anywhere. "They must have hidden in the wood and put out their torches," Rebbie said, keeping his voice low. Trees grew almost to the edge of the trail in this area.
They'd have to be careful or get ambushed. "Come." He motioned to the other men. They all melded into the dark wood and dismounted. "The bastards could be anywhere. We may be able to hear their horses."
Seconds later, someone cried out, further along and off to the right. A woman. "Calla," Rebbie whispered. Rushing forward on foot, he followed the sound. His friends trailed behind him. 'Twas near impossible to see in the wood, but the dark silhouettes of the tree trunks were clear enough that he didn't crash into them.
A horse snorted, the sound much closer this time. Attempting to be as quiet as they could, they continued. Finally, several human silhouettes became visible amongst the straight tree trunks, moonlight behind them.
"There," Rebbie whispered quiet as a breath. He sheathed his sword and pulled out his Highland dirk. He intended to be right on Claybourne when he slit his throat. "I'll get Calla. You lads take out the guards."
"Aye," Lachlan said.
As they approached, a horse neighed and reared, alarming the other horses and all hell broke loose. Rebbie launched himself toward Claybourne and grabbed his right arm. As Rebbie had suspected, the man held a knife in his hand. Rebbie latched onto his wrist, near breaking it and stabbed his arm, forcing him to drop the knife. The man roared in pain and his horse reared.
Yelling curses, Claybourne kicked his mount forward and Calla toppled off the other side of the horse. Rebbie raced forward, but wasn't quick enough to catch her before she hit the ground.
"Let's go!" Claybourne yelled, already yards away as they retreated.
"Calla? Are you hurt?" Rebbie dropped to his knees beside her, unable to see her in the near darkness. Saints! If her head struck a rock…
He sheathed his dirk and touched her head, feeling for blood. "Calla?" Beneath her head, he found a small hard stump.
God's teeth. Nay! "Calla?"
She moaned.
"You're alive," he said, finally able to draw breath. "Where does it hurt?"
"My… head," she breathed. "And my shoulder."
"I'm going to pick you up. I have to get you back to the castle so I can see to your injuries."
"Nay. My son," she gasped.
"What?"
"Claybourne… said he has Jamie." She spoke slowly as if forcing the words out. "Holding him hostage."
"Damnation. We'll find him."
"Is she hurt badly?" Lachlan dropped to his knees beside him in the darkness.
"Her head hit a stump. I have to get her back to the castle. She says Claybourne has taken her wee son hostage. He's only six."
"What a bastard," Lachlan growled. "Want me to go after him? I can take half the men, and leave half with you."
Rebbie paused for a moment, considering. "I don't ken what you'd be up against."
"Do you think he'd hurt the lad?" Lachlan asked.
"Let's get her back to the castle, and maybe she can tell us more about Claybourne's plans." Rebbie lifted Calla and carried her through the wood. While he worried about her son, he couldn't send his friend into an unknown situation. Claybou
rne might demand that Calla be traded for her son. Could be a volatile circumstance, which would put her son in even more danger than if they waited.
Calla squirmed in his arms. "I must… find Jamie."
"Aye, we will. Do you ken where Claybourne lives?"
"Aye. South of Perth. An estate called Bonnyridge."
"Good. We'll go get him when we ken you're all right."
"I am."
She would say that, of course, even if she couldn't stand upright. Once they neared their horses among the trees, some of the men brought torches and lanterns forward. He sat her on the ground and bade one of them to hold a torch for him. The flame glinted off the tears in Calla's eyes.
"Shh. 'Twill be all right. Let me see the back of your head."
She turned and he parted her hair. A large patch of blood had drenched her light hair. It could be a bad wound, but since she was conversing well, 'twas a good sign.
He stood. "I'll mount and then you hand her up to me," he told Lachlan.
"Aye."
Once they were mounted with Calla securely on his lap and leaning against one arm, they headed back to Tummel. "Just rest for a few minutes," he said.
Back at the castle, Rebbie carried her up the steps and into the great hall where his father sat waiting. He arose and came forward, a concerned look on his face. "I'm glad you've returned. Was she injured?"
"Aye. She hit her head on a stump in the wood. I'll return in a few minutes." Rebbie summoned the housekeeper who had not returned to bed after Calla's disappearance.
Mistress Hillman and two maids followed him as he carried Calla up to her bedchamber. "Light several candles and add wood to the fire," he said to the maids. "Does Tummel have a healer?" he asked Mistress Hillman.
"Nay, m'laird. There's one in a village about ten miles away."
"'Slud." He was no healer, but he'd seen to many injuries on the battlefield. He lifted Calla's arm and checked for broken bones. "Tell me if this hurts."
When he pressed against her shoulder, she hissed through her teeth. "That hurts. I landed on it."
My Rebel Highlander Page 18
