Highland Ruse: Mercenary Maidens - Book Two

by Martin, Madeline

  “I willna hurt ye so long as ye do as I say,” he said.

  Delilah gave a stiff nod and kept her eyes wide. If he knew she was completely unafraid, everything could be ruined.

  She would allow him to think her fearful, but not cowed.

  There had been too many times in her life where she’d wilted beneath her emotions. She was stronger now.

  No man would ever see her so weak again.

  Leasa’s hand squeezed into a death grip around Delilah’s, and her breathless sobs filled the cabin. Delilah’s heart clenched for the young woman, and for her own role in Leasa’s misery. The maid had not been prepared for such risk and violence.

  Delilah shifted to the seat beside her maid. “We will do as you say.” She kept her voice smooth. Perhaps she ought to have made it tremble, but she wanted to ease Leasa’s fear with her own strength, a difficult balance to strike.

  The man stepped into the coach, setting it creaking and swaying. He eased himself into the seat she had occupied and closed the narrow door.

  Leasa leapt and gave a little shriek.

  Delilah angled herself slightly in front of Leasa. While there’d been no stopping the massacre of the guards, she could at least prevent the young maid from being injured.

  But the Highlander did not attack them. He sat across from them, his large frame filling the seat where Delilah had only occupied half. He rested his elbows on his legs. The scent of leather and outdoors filled the confined cabin.

  “I’ll take yer food.” He held out a large hand toward her.

  Calluses showed rough on his palm at the base of his fingers and smudges of ink showed on his thumb and forefinger, but his nails were trimmed and clean.

  He was no rogue highwayman.

  “Please,” he offered.

  No rogue highwayman indeed.

  With a look toward Leasa to warn her silently to comply, Delilah lifted the bag of food they kept in the cabin. He could have it if he liked. They had more with the rest of their bags behind the coach, having stopped just the day before.

  Delilah hefted the rough linen and thrust it toward the Highlander. He gave a subtle nod of thanks before accepting it and immediately rummaging through it.

  He pulled a wrapped parcel out, sniffed it and set it aside before doing the same with two other items.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, trying to adopt the indignant countenance of a courtier.

  He sniffed another parcel before dropping it back in the bag. “Taking out the meat.”

  An edge of unease scraped up her spine. Was he mad? “Whatever for?”

  The Highlander opened the door, tied the bag off and tossed it into the road. “Wolves and other predators would smell it.”

  Without further explanation, he smacked the top of the ceiling with his palm and the coach jumped forward.

  The sudden lurch shoved Delilah back into her seat, but she immediately righted herself. “Why would you—?”

  Movement outside the window caught her attention. Her guards and the coach driver were all tied together, their arms and legs bound in front of them and placed back-to-back with their legs jutting out like the spokes of a wheel.

  They jostled and writhed against their bonds.

  Alive.

  The bag of food had landed in a patch of grass not far from them.

  Delilah’s gaze cut to the Highlander. “They’re alive.”

  The Highlander nodded. “Aye. They willna be getting out of those ropes any time soon, but nor will they die there either. The food will last them until they find a village.” His vivid blue gaze shifted from the window to her. “Long enough for us to be far enough away that they willna be able to find ye.”

  • • •

  Kaid had not expected Elizabeth Seymour to be so beautiful.

  The sun spilled over her face and turned her skin to golden-lit cream, and her almond-shaped brown eyes gazed up at him, large and long-lashed, like those of a doe.

  She stared at him with a defiance he ought to find maddening. It burned deep in her gaze, simmering above the fear.

  A spike of disbelief shoved through his gut.

  He was really doing this, kidnapping an innocent woman who had done nothing more than find herself unfortunately betrothed to MacKenzie, as if that were not its own special punishment.

  The image of MacKenzie touching this delicate woman flashed through his mind and brought with it a flood of fiery anger. MacKenzie did not deserve a woman so fair. Certainly he should never be allowed to possess something so fragile as the dainty Elizabeth Seymour. He would break her and take joy in having done so.

  “Why are you doing this?” She asked.

  He wanted to look away, to keep from having to face her accusation, her betrayal, her fear.

  His hand curled into a fist until the muscles of his forearm burned. He had to remember his people.

  She was his leverage to obtain his father’s sword stolen in battle when he fell. She was the means to barter for an agreement which could lead to peace—a way to retaliate without losing men.

  Images brushed at his memory, images of the massacre they’d suffered, but he quickly shoved them aside lest they overwhelm him again. He couldn’t appear weak in front of the women.

  “Ye dinna need to ask questions.” His reply came out sharp. Her brow flinched, but she said nothing.

  The maid whimpered again. The sound left Kaid wincing, but he did not blame the lass.

  He blamed himself.

  “How could I not ask questions?” Lady Seymour said in an equally sharp tone. “You’ve bound my men and stolen our coach with us still inside. If your intent is not harm, what is it then?”

  It was a bold question for one in such a dire situation as hers, yet she demanded answers with the authority of a queen.

  Aside from her exquisite beauty, she was no different than he’d imagined. She wore the air of entitlement around her like a fine sable mantle and seemed to expect the world to bow at her feet, all because she’d been born to great wealth.

  He could tell she’d never known the pain of loss, the horror of seeing those she loved slaughtered, nor how difficult it was to win back the trust of men who sought answers.

  There’d been a time where he had never known such things himself.

  “You’ll find out in time,” he said. “All ye need to know now is that I mean ye no harm.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. The simple act pushed her ample bosom against the lush red fabric of her bodice.

  “What are we to do for food?” she asked.

  “We’ll make do.” He leaned back in his seat, careful to avoid the parcels of salted meat beside him. When they’d finished what remained of the food stores he’d kept, he’d hunt and Donnan could head into a nearby village.

  “Where are we—”

  “Enough questions.” He gave her a level look.

  Silence fell between them, long enough even for the maid’s whimpers to stop.

  The side-to-side sway of the coach lulled him, tempting him toward sleep.

  The groggy sensation was unwelcome, not because the women might seek to flee—he knew he’d wake before they even touched the handle of the door—but because of the horrors which sleep brought.

  He dipped in and out of his fight with sleep when the hushing of whispers broke through his fogged mind. He opened his eyes and found Lady Elizabeth’s hard stare fixed directly on him.

  “We have needs which must be met.” She arched one well-groomed eyebrow, as if daring him to challenge her.

  He did not need to ask which needs she’d referred to and had already anticipated such interruptions. It was one of the many reasons he’d chosen to bring the maid as well.

  He rapped his knuckles against the roof of the cabin three times, as he and Donnan had discussed prior, and the coach rolled to an easy stop.

  Kaid opened the door and stepped out. Donnan hopped from the driver’s perch and curiously glanced into the cabin where the
women were easing from their seats.

  “At least that noise stopped, eh?” Donnan winked at him.

  By “that noise” Kaid knew Donnan referred to the maid’s crying. And though they’d been responsible for her keening wails, Kaid too was grateful for the quiet.

  Lady Elizabeth emerged at the mouth of the coach, and before Kaid could even realize what he’d done, his hand shot out to aid her down the single stair.

  She accepted the offer with the nonchalance of entitlement, and he suddenly realized she had expected his help. Not that he should be surprised by her reaction. Doubtless it’d been how she’d lived her entire life.

  She arched her back slightly, a discreet stretch after having been in the coach so long. It did not escape his notice the way the rounded tops of her bosom swelled against her bodice.

  Again.

  While he might not appreciate English ideals, he found the cut of the gowns appealing.

  Kaid’s thought was echoed in the lift of Donnan’s brows.

  In fact, all of Lady Elizabeth was rather bonny now that Kaid could see her standing rather than sitting in a fluff of skirts. She was shorter than he’d initially thought. Her head scarce came to his chest. While the cone of her skirts concealed her hips and everything below, the narrowness of her waist was entirely visible.

  Unaware of his assessment, Lady Elizabeth turned toward the coach and beckoned the woman still huddled within. “Come, Leasa.”

  The wheels creaked, and the cabin rocked. “Coming, my lady.”

  No sooner had the maid spoken than she appeared in the doorway and stumbled out of the coach in a graceless splaying of arms.

  Kaid and Donnan both stepped forward to help her, but she managed to catch her own balance.

  Her cheeks flushed to a deeper red, and she lowered her face to hide her embarrassment. She smoothed at her skirts before glancing up at Elizabeth. “Are you ready, my lady?”

  Elizabeth stepped toward the forest. “Yes, I—”

  “Only one of ye,” Kaid said.

  The noblewoman stopped and turned slowly, a look of measured patience on her face. “Are you saying my maid will not be able to attend me?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m saying I dinna trust ye to no’ run off and intend to hold one of ye while the other goes.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  He’d known she wouldn’t like it even before he had said it.

  Not that kidnapping women should be easy, but this woman was going to make the upcoming days a veritable hell.

  Chapter Three

  Lady Elizabeth put her hands on her hips, and Kaid knew he was in for a tongue-lashing.

  “You expect us to go into the woods,” she said. “Alone.”

  He didn’t budge. “Aye.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off before she could start.

  “Or I could let the two of ye go together while I join ye both to ensure no one leaves.” He shrugged.

  Her mouth opened wider, this time in obvious outrage. “How dare you?”

  “Then maybe ye should do as he says,” Donnan said with his customary good-natured smile. “One of ye stays while the other goes.”

  Elizabeth let her gaze slide over to Donnan and then back to Kaid. He could see the indecision warring on her face.

  She heaved a great sigh. “Very well. Leasa, you go first.”

  Leasa cast an anxious look toward Kaid.

  “Ye’ll be fine,” Kaid offered reassuringly.

  Still the frightened maid hesitated.

  “Ach, ye’ll be fine, lass. I give ye my word.” Donnan flashed her his ready grin.

  As always, his effortless charm worked its magic and Leasa’s shoulders relaxed. This would indeed be a long trek if Donnan was to repeat everything Kaid said.

  “Thank you.” Leasa gave a short nod and made her way off the path at a pace somewhere between a walk and a restrained run.

  The conversation ceased with her disappearance, so only Lady Elizabeth’s glare filled the space between them. Donnan muttered something about checking the horses and disappeared around the coach.

  “Who are you, anyway?” Elizabeth asked.

  Kaid looked toward the woods where the maid had disappeared. The lass made enough sound crashing through the brush he didn’t have to guess her location. Based on the volume of her screams earlier, he’d know well enough if she required rescuing. “Dinna ye worry about who I am.”

  “Yes, we’ve already had this conversation.” There was a note of frustration in her voice. “What are we to call you?”

  “Ye dinna need to call me anyth—”

  “Kaid, where did ye want to set up camp tonight?” Donnan peeked his head around the corner. “I think we’re near—” His words dropped, and only then did Kaid realize he was glowering at Donnan.

  A triumphant grin showed on Elizabeth’s face. “Kaid.” She nodded toward Donnan. “And who are you?”

  Donnan’s uncertainty melted away in an instant, and he bowed low like some damn courtier. “Donnan MacLeod at yer service, my lady.”

  With a growl, Kaid snapped forward and hauled Donnan against the cart. “We’ve abducted these women,” he reminded his friend in Gaelic. “Ye need to have a care what we tell them. They now know who we are, and ye almost told them exactly where we are. Ye need to speak to me in Gaelic from now on and give them only what they need to know, aye?”

  Donnan’s face hardened into a look Kaid had only seen perhaps twice in their entire lives. “I guess I’m no’ used to kidnapping lasses.”

  The slight hit its mark. He released Donnan’s leine, though he didn’t remember having grabbed it in the first place. “I dinna want to do this either,” Kaid said, though he knew it didn’t matter.

  Lady Elizabeth frowned and strode toward them with such clipped steps, her skirts kicked out in front of her. “What are you saying?”

  Irritation drew tight across Kaid’s shoulders, and he had to collect the scraps of his patience before answering, “Things we obviously dinna want ye to hear.”

  Her hand was in the pocket of her large skirts, shifting under the heavy layer of fabric. As if she were seeking something.

  He’d never thought to ask them if they were armed. After all, what noblewoman carried weapons on her person? But then, this spitfire might.

  He let his gaze wander over her stiff gown. “Do ye have any weapons?”

  Her brows lifted. “Of course I do not. And you’ve still not answer—”

  “No needles?” he pressed. “Sewing scissors?” He’d never kidnapped a woman. In fact, he’d never been in a situation where he would need to pursue a woman in this regard. Still, he didn’t want to underestimate his foe, no matter how unassuming she seemed.

  The hand in her pocket had not moved again.

  Her head tilted a fraction of an inch higher, and her gaze remained steady. “I have no sewing items on my person.”

  She’d been disciplined like all the other girls of the English court to keep her emotions bottled beneath an expressionless exterior. And while she was indeed far calmer than her high-pitched maid, he detected a hint of breathlessness in her words.

  The lass hid her fear well.

  He stepped toward her, and his foot squished into the thick mud. He would draw out the truth.

  Her haughtiness slipped for a moment and gave way to a flash of vulnerability that left her mouth soft and the delicate muscles of her neck standing taut against her creamy flesh.

  “Do ye have nothing in yer pocket then?” he asked and stepped closer.

  This time she did not respond, which was answer enough.

  She pulled her hand from her pocket.

  He stalked toward her until he was close enough to feel the brush of her heavy skirt against his shin. A delicate floral scent caught his attention, which he recognized from their close quarters inside the coach. Doubtless her perfume, and doubtless expensive.

  “What’s in yer pocket?” he de
manded.

  His intent was to intimidate. His closeness, the harshness of his words, his unbreaking stare. And it worked as far as he could tell. Her eyes were wide, as if she wanted to turn away.

  But she did not. “You stand too close,” she said in a snide tone. “Move away, Kaid.”

  Her disparaging demeanor caught at his nerves, and his name on her lips left his muscles tight. “I think ye have something.” He reached toward her heavy brocade skirt. “Here.”

  Her hand shot out like a striking snake and connected with his cheek in a ringing slap. His cheek stung where her palm had made contact. Some men he knew would have struck her back. Tempting though it might be, he would never be one of those men.

  “Dinna ever hit me again.” He let the warning come out low and composed. A threat calmly delivered held more promise than one bellowed in rage.

  A thin, high-pitched scream came from the woods. They both turned in time to see Leasa break through the tree line in a wild thrash while pealing out her earsplitting cries.

  “Leave her,” she shrieked and rushed in their direction.

  Her hasty steps were clumsy on the muddy path, and she slipped once. At first she caught herself, but then stepped on her dress and pitched forward into a tangle of skinny legs and flailing arms.

  Kaid shared a shocked look with Donnan from his place by the horses.

  It was Elizabeth who ran forward to help her maid. She knelt into a thick patch of mud at the girl’s side to better aid her to her feet.

  Leasa was weeping again. The snuffling, wailing sound carried with it an endless stream of apologies. Elizabeth’s voice murmured beneath the sobs, not with chastisement at her clumsy servant, but in soothing tones.

  Thick mud caked the front of Elizabeth’s skirt, but she did not appear to notice. She asked the maid something, and Leasa offered a shy smile to Elizabeth, who beamed back in return.

  Kaid couldn’t help but watch the exchange. This was not the entitled noblewoman who challenged him at every turn and had only recently slapped him. This woman in muddy clothes was patient and compassionate.

  Her action had been immediate, the kind one does not realize they are doing until it is being done. The kind borne of instinct and displaying a person’s true heart.