Page 69 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
“Where are ye takin’ me?” she asked again.
“We will nae be goin’ far,” Alistair explained. “But daenae worry. I willnae be hurtin’ ye. I need ye alive for the exchange to happen.”
This is good. Keep him talkin’. Maybe I can sort out a plan while he’s yappin’.
“What exchange?”
“For Abigail.”
Alistair said the name as if it meant something to her. And Eliza thought that maybe it did. The name Abigail in association with the MacKinnon clan did tickle something faint in her memory.
But she could not identify exactly where she knew it from.
“Who is Abigail?”
Alistair snorted from behind her.
“Who is Abigail,” he parroted, his tone indicating he thought she was a downright fool for even having to ask. “She is the Lady of MacKinnon Castle!”
She was Conall’s mother! That was the reason that it rang a bell for Eliza. Her conversation with Conall a couple nights prior popped back into her mind. He’d said he’d had to have her imprisoned and his sister sent away to a monastery shortly after the death of his father. Why would Alistair be bringing her up now? Why would he want to exchange Eliza for Abigail?
“Why do ye want to exchange me for her?” she asked, focusing again on keeping him talking.
They were approaching a small outcropping of woods. Most of it was cast in shadow, but the horse showed no sign of letting up, and Eliza had a feeling that those trees were where they were headed.
Maybe, when we’re off the horse, I’ll be able to overpower him, take the horse and run.
Alistair didn’t answer. Eliza relegated herself to wait in the silence that followed, the air filled with only the sound of the horse’s hooves hitting the ground.
Just as she suspected, they entered the trees. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, the canopy of leaves above them obscuring the little bit of light still left.
Not far into the trees, the line of them broke, and the horse stepped through them into a small, well-defined meadow. Alistair tugged on the reins, stopping their steed.
This is me chance.
The moment Alistair slid from the horse, she’d kick her heels and grab the reins from him. She’d ride off, leaving him…
Alistair shoved her to the side, sending Eliza careening off the side of the horse. The grass below her was soft and lush, but she still hit it with a jolt that stole her breath.
Dazed, she stared up at the sky as she fought to pull air into her lungs. The first stars of the night twinkled above her, but Eliza could not move.
The noise of Alistair dismounting from the horse and tying it off at a nearby tree filled the night. And still, she could not move.
Finally, blessedly, Eliza was able to catch a breath. She pulled it into her lungs in a heaving gulf.
She fought to put her elbows beneath her, pushing herself up so that she could see as she glanced around her. But before she could make sense of everything and before she had time to react, Alistair was upon her.
His weight pressed down on her chest, and once again Eliza had to marvel at just how much she had underestimated the man. He was much heavier than he seemed.
Swinging her shoulders, Eliza tossed about, bucking and shouting like a wild cat as she tried to move the man off from on top of her. Something scratchy and rough wrapped around her wrists.
Rope.
“Stop fightin’ me,” Alistair grunted.
He may had been stronger and heavier than he looked, but Eliza was terrified. That gave her enough strength to put up a fight, and he was struggling with getting the rope wrapped securely around her wrist.
“Ye want me to what?” Eliza snarled. “Just lay here like a demure wee lass and let ye tie me up? Well, think again! I am nay damsel!”
