Page 45 of To Wed a Laird
Rose wanted to shout that she was not a thing to be used, but she was frozen with fear. She opened her mouth to scream, but not a sound came out. She tried to think if she had anything she could use as a weapon, but she had nothing. Then she put her hand in her pocket and found a long hairpin which had fallen out of her hair while she was riding. It was made of iron and akin to a very large nail, but Rose was not sure how much damage it could do against three men.
However, it was all she had, and even if these three thugs were going to rape or kill her, she was determined that she would not go down without a fight.
When the small, fat one came forward with his hand outstretched, Rose whipped out the long pin and thrust it as hard as she could towards his face, aiming for his eye, but the man was much more agile than he looked. In no more than a fraction of a second, he had whipped the pin out of her hand to send it flying.
It landed on the muddy ground, and he picked it up, then bent it in the middle, rendering it useless for Rose’s purpose. Then he gave her an evil grin. “Well, that wasnae very nice, was it, Mary?” he asked. He was smiling, but his blue eyes were smouldering with rage.
Rose was desperate, but she knew that if she could only get to her horse she could escape—the man had not been born whocould outrun a horse! She took off, sidestepping past the thin man, but she had only taken a few more steps before her path was cut off by the fellow who had first accosted her in the tavern.
Desperately, she looked around for an escape route, but there was none; she was being herded into a narrow alley between the tavern and the barn that stood a few feet away. Presently, her back hit a wall—there was no escape, and not a soul in sight.
At long last, Rose was able to scream, but the three thugs only laughed.
“Scream away, Mary,” the thin one said, shrugging. “Naebody can hear ye.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cormac paced his study,where he had come to collect his sword, from wall to wall, trying to clear his mind of the picture of Rose’s face the last time he had seen her. He was cold, and his heart was filled with dread. One moment they had been passionately tangled together in a loving embrace, the next he had opened his mouth, said something utterly stupid and driven Rose away.
Nell had been right. No matter how much he had loved Catherine, she was in his past, and Rose was his present and his future.
In his dream, Catherine had told him Rose was a good woman and had given him her blessing—not, of course, that he needed it, but it helped to dispel the guilt he had felt previously.
Now his mind was clear; he loved Rose, and he would tell her so and ask her to marry him so that they could finally be together—if he had not driven her away entirely.
Nell had said she thought Rose might be in the village, so he decided to make it his first port of call; if she was not there, he could think of nothing else to do. He began to panic. What if she had injured herself during the ride? What if he was unable to find her? The prospect was horrendous.
There were bandits out in these wild parts, kidnappers who could and would hold her for ransom, and especially if they found out that she was a Sassenach? Then, god help her! Ordinary folk would give her a hard time, but bandits and outlaws would spare her no mercy at all.
Cormac strode into the stables, his expression grim and determined. He did not wait for a stable hand to saddle Broch, but did it himself, then leapt onto the horse and thundered out of the castle.
With this thought, Cormac spurred Broch on until they were halfway to the village, when he began to tire, and he realised that he was asking too much of his poor stallion.
He growled softly as he allowed the horse to slow down, consumed by impatience, but there was nothing else he could do apart from run the rest of the way, and that would take too long.
Cormac battled on the rest of the way, his mind seething, his heart pounding with apprehension and impatience. Eventually, he saw the buildings of the village in the distance, and the sight gave him fresh impetus. He thundered into Inverrigg, and Broch skidded to a halt in front of the Shorn Sheep Tavern.
Cormac swung out of the saddle and headed for the entrance. The customers inside were not only startled, but terrified as the biggest man most of them had ever seen burst through the doors, making them shudder on their hinges and bang against the wall.
The man behind the bar jumped backwards, his eyes widening as he took in the man he now knew was his Laird advancing towards him with a face like a thunderstorm.
Cormac, seeing the man’s face, realised how fearsome he must look. “I am sorry I frightened you,” he said, leaning on the counter and trying to calm down. “Has a young woman with long chestnut hair and very dark eyes been in here? She is English, so I am afraid for her safety.”
“Aye, M’Laird,” he replied. “But she left a while ago.”
“How long ago?” Cormac asked desperately. “Was she alone?”
“As far as I could see, aye, M’Laird. I was too busy tae look,” the man replied.
Cormac’s heart began to pound hard with fear, then he chastised himself; Rose could at this moment be walking home unaware of the fact that he had followed her, or was even concerned about her at all.
“Thank you.” He tossed a coin on the counter top and said: “If she comes back, please tell her I was here. Her name is Rose, and this is very important.”
“I will, M’Laird,” the man replied as he smiled and slipped the coin into his pocket. “Thank ye, but be careful. Some o’ the lads are nasty bits o’ work.” He looked genuinely worried, and Cormac nodded.
“Thank you for your concern,” he said, “but I think I can handle myself.”
He frowned and opened his mouth to ask him another question about the thugs, but that was when they heard the scream. It was a woman’s scream, but it lasted no more than a second before it was abruptly cut off.
