Page 107 of Stealing Sophie
Summoning all her might, she shoved, stomping on his foot with the heel of her sturdy shoe. He staggered back but did not let go, drawing her against him again.
“Sir—the boy got away!”
Sophie whirled to see the soldier, and noticed that he was young; the way he glanced from her to Sir Henry showed concern and hesitation. “Will you not help?” she asked him. “You know this is wrong. Please–”
“Sir,” the soldier said tentatively, “perhaps you should let the lady go. There is a commotion in the glen that needs your attention. The prisoners tried to escape.”
“Then go see to that,” Campbell barked. “I will see to my fiancée. She ran away, scared of marriage. Some girls are. But I will reassure her,” he growled, pulling her against him. “Go!” he snapped.
The soldier paused again, then ran, disappearing over a fold in the hill.
Campbell yanked her hard toward him and kissed her, mouth pressing hard, fingers clapped tight on her jaw. Sophie shoved at him, wrenching away, pulled back. She bit his lip best she could. He let her go abruptly, swearing, keeping one hand on her arm like a bruising vice.
“I only want to please you,” he gasped. “You had no reason to run from me. I want to be a good husband for you and help your clan. They risk all with their Jacobite sympathies. I can restore the reputation of the clan in return for–”
”For what?” she asked, heart pounding. “You would murder my brother and my husband, and then marry me, certain your wife would be clan chief!”
“I thought a good girl coming out of the convent would be obedient. Would cooperate and appreciate a man’s authority—” He twisted her arm, and she spun with it, her back to him, giving her a moment’s advantage.
“You were wrong,” she said, and stomped on his foot, then kicked behind her, high and hard as she could.
“Uhnh,”he grunted, faltering, grip loosening, but he recovered and torqued her arm painfully behind her. “Your brother and MacPherson need comeuppance for their crimes. Do not let your clan suffer for their rebellion—and yours.”
“The—clan?” She tried to look back at him, wincing.
“I will ruin them all. Every one of them. The MacCarrans are as bad a pack of rebels as ever walked the Highlands, the MacPhersons with them. I will have your kinsmen arrested, their homes burned, their families thrown out. I can have Duncrieff Castle forfeited to me, with or without you for a wife. And I will make sure,” he growled low, twisting her forearm, “that your sister is arrested too.”
“My sister!”
“I know what that little minx is up to these days. I just need proof. Do you know what happens to women in prison? No? Surely you can guess, now that you have been in MacPherson’s bed.”
Oh God,she thought. Not only Rob and Connor and the others, but Kate and all of Clan Carran would suffer if she did not do this man’s bidding.
“Why are you doing this? What is it you want?” she gasped as he pushed her forward and marched her further down the hill.
“There is no clan like the MacCarrans,” he said. “They are unique. They say there is fairy gold in that castle, in its early foundations. Untold wealth. A king’s ransom.”
“That is a legend,” she said. “Many clans have such tales. There is no gold.”
“Gold and jewels,” he insisted. “Ancient treasure.”
“One old goblet. You would risk your eternal soul for that?”
“If you think it is just an old cup, then give it to me. We will go there now.”
“No,” she said, stumbling as he dragged her along.
“Ah, so it is worth more than I guessed. You will give me that fairy cup, Miss MacCarran, and all that goes with it. But first, I must see to a small matter.”
Heading down the slope toward the valley floor, she looked west toward the cresting hills, where the sun was a thin red-gold line beneath a purple sky. She saw Kinnoull House perched on its hill, majestic there. She saw the twin ribbons of water shining in the evening light, one flowing under the pale stone arch of the new bridge.
Connor and the others, thank the Lord, were nowhere in sight. But she felt certain they were near. She sensed him close by and knew he was risking too much.
The men on the adjacent hill were moving about. Two sat among them. One turned, his long hair glinting like gold in the magical blend of setting sun, twilight, moonlight. Her brother looked toward her.
He called out something—her name, and some warning, she thought—just as a guard stepped toward him, lifting the butt of his musket.
“Hurry!” Sir Henry pulled her along.
