Page 3 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
It willnae hold them fer long, but it’ll slow them down fer now…
Her legs and lungs both burning, she ran into the darkness, chased by the shouted curses of the men behind her. The small grin of satisfaction on her lips was wiped away instantly when she crashed into the ladder with an impact that jarred her very bones. Gasping to recover the breath driven from her lungs, it was all she could do to keep on her feet.
She grabbed on to the ladder to keep herself upright and began making their way through the flames, she scrambled up the ladder. For the second time in minutes, her body exploded in pain as she ran her head into the trap door above her. Isolde’s teeth clacked together sharply, making her jaw ache as much as her shoulder.
“Bleedin’ hell,” she muttered.
With all the strength she could muster, she leaned her full weight into the trap door. With the hinges squealing in protest, it opened and she was greeted by a gold gust of wind and rain lashing her face. It startled her so much, she nearly lost her grip on the ladder. But she held tight and pushed her way through it, slipping out of the tunnel and into the open air beyond.
Isolde knew she had precious little time to lie there, so she let the trap door fall back into place with a hard thud and jumped to her feet. She took a long, deep breath and glanced behind her. Moy Castle stood like a dark sentinel.
Now that she was free, she had no idea where to go. She had never actually planned that far ahead, never truly believing she would ever be free. But there she was. Free. Picking a direction at random, Isolde turned and blindly plunged into the darkness, wind, and rain of the night, the rumble of thunder punctuating her every step.
Yet, everything was better than marrying the man chosen by her father.
CHAPTER TWO
Her breathing ragged and every inch of her body screaming in pain, Isolde stopped and leaned against the wide trunk of a tree. She was cold, soaked to the bone, and exhausted. It felt like she’d been running for hours but when she turned back, she could still see the tall, imposing walls of Moy Castle in the distance, so she knew it hadn’t been that long.
The thick trunks of the trees and heavy foliage distorted sound, preventing her from pinpointing her location. And with the storm still raging overhead, it further obscured the sound of her flight. Unfortunately, the echo of the voices that reverberated through the forest also kept her from knowing how many men were actually out there.
Out to get me!
“Sounds like his whole bleedin’ army is out there,” she muttered.
“This way. I think she went this way!”
The man’s voice sounded close—too close. It sent a lightning bolt of fear crackling through her veins. Despite the protest of her muscles and lungs, Isolde turned and ran through the darkness, doing her best to move fast while trying to avoid rocks, exposed roots, or anything else that might trip her up. She was so close to freedom the last thing she wanted was to turn an ankle, or worse.
The whinny of a horse and a man’s grunt stopped her in her tracks. She ducked down behind a screen of bushes when the flicker of a torch cut through the darkness. The soldier was just on the other side of the thick foliage, making Isolde draw a sharp breath. Her heart hammered so hard in her breast, she feared he was going to hear it over the steady thrum of rain on the forest canopy overhead.
“Ye see her?” said the man.
“Nay. Nae yet,” came the voice of a second man she hadn’t seen.
“We need tae find her or Laird Mackintosh will have our heads.”
“Aye. Probably so,” said the second man. “But how? ‘Tis a lot of ground out here tae cover. The lass could be anywhere.”
“Dae ye think it matters tae the laird?” the first man said dryly. “He gave us orders and expects those orders tae be followed, whether they’re reasonable or nae.”
“’Tis nae a good night fer him. First Cameron and now his daughter. The man looked ready tae put his bleedin’ fist through the curtain wall.”
“Aye. But nae a good night fer him means ‘tis a worse night fer us.”
The man chuckled ruefully. “Aye. ‘Tis true. Come, let’s keep lookin’. The princess couldnae have gotten too far. She’s probably hidin’ among the trees. Let’s find her.”
As the hoofbeats of the horses receded, Isolde let out a long breath that came out in a thick plume of steam. She trembled wildly and not only from the cold.
That was close.
“They cannae catch me. I cannae let them take me back tae him,” she whispered, trying to encourage herself.
Pushing herself to her feet, Isolde ran in the opposite direction the soldiers had gone and stepped into a clearing. The flash of lightning bathed the world in a silvery luminescence brighter than the sun.
“Bleedin’ hell,” she groaned.
On the other side of the clearing were two of her father’s soldiers on horseback. The flash of lightning allowed her to see them—but it also allowed them to see her.
