Page 5 of Highland Hero
“It also makes it easier for the MacGregors to follow us.”
A bit of hope sprang up. Surely Ian would send some of his men out to look for her. She was Emily’s sister, after all. But when would they discover her missing? She’d been abducted shortly past midnight. Dawn was just breaking, and they’d been riding hard. And now that they’d left the road…
She cursed under her breath. “Damn fool.”
Neal’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll nae put up with ye calling me names I doona like.”
Juliana glanced up at him, startled that he’d heard. “I was not calling you a fool. I was calling myself one for allowing you to capture me.”
He snorted. “Ye dinna have a choice in that.”
“I did.” She hated to admit it, but it was true. “I should have suspected you were not content to leave things be. I should not have gone into the garden.”
He shrugged. “I would have taken ye anyway. Ye just made it easier for me.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I bribed one of the servants to tell me which was your bedchamber, and then I offered more coin for the door to be left unbarred.” Neal gestured to his men. “We were waiting for the right moment to enter.”
“You would have been caught.”
His eyebrow rose again. “Would we? MacGregor was nae about to leave his bed, and his brothers were still in the bailey drinking.”
Juliana closed her eyes briefly, not wanting to admit defeat. Would Neal have been successful? It was quite possible. There were still servants who resented Englishwomen—Sassenachs—invading their castle. Whoever had been bribed proved the point. She shuddered to think what would have happened to her younger sister, Lorelei, if these oafs had actually gotten to the bedchamber. Perhaps it was better that she’d been abducted from the garden, but it was essential she go no farther with this man. She could find her way back to the road if she could just escape. She opened her eyes and clutched her stomach.
“I needs must relieve myself.”
He gave her a suspicious look, but she gave him her best imitation of Lorelei acting totally naive. “Please. I would hate…to soil myself.”
Neal grunted, then swung off his horse and none too gently hauled her down. He pointed. “Ye can go as far as the trees over there.”
That wasn’t much distance, and she’d probably have only a few minutes’ head start, but she had to try. At least the trees were thick and the sky hadn’t quite lightened. She nodded with what she hoped was a demure expression. “Thank you.”
As soon as she was out of sight, she picked up her skirts and began to run, ignoring the sharp twigs and hard stones beneath her ill-shod feet. At least the satin slippers didn’t make any noise.
She dared not pause to determine if she were being followed, just ran blindly into the hilly woods. She heard the sound of water and switched direction, hoping and praying there would be boulders along the bank that she could crouch behind or even a rocky ledge jutting out from an overhang that she could crawl under.
Instead, she suddenly burst into a small clearing by the burn. And then she heard the crashing sound of boots behind her. Wildly she looked around for somewhere to hide. She raced toward the stream, determined to leap across when her arms were caught in a hard, cruel grip.
“I’ll nae hit ye this time,” Neal snarled, “but doona try it again.” He jerked her around and pushed her back the way she had come. “And ye best remember this. What I want, I get.”
Sheer terror struck her heart. The memory of another man forcing himself on her—taking her virginity with it—rose from the depths of her mind where it had been long buried. She had vowed she’d never let another man have his way with her. And then a coldness settled over her and she realized: she would kill this man if she must.
Chapter Two
Rory cursed silently, although why he didn’t just speak aloud since he was alone in the woods in the misty dawn, he didn’t know. He led his horse along a narrow deer trail, trying to pick up prints. This was the third he’d followed that appeared to lead nowhere other than the burn, which wove its way through a rocky wash. He huffed a sigh of frustration, and his gelding snorted his accord.
He stroked the sleek sorrel neck. “I ken, Baron. ’Tis nae easy to get through these brambles. Ye’ll get a good brushing when this is done.”
He peered through the trees as he proceeded, seeing no sign of broken branches or trampled lichen along the path that inevitably led to the winding burn once again. He dropped the horse’s reins so he could drink and pondered which way to go.
When he’d set out yesterday morning, it had been easy to follow the Camerons on the road toward Fort William, but then half of them had turned off a few miles later. He’d contemplated which group would have Juliana. Logic would dictate the ones who’d taken to the woods. Why else would they do so? But then, they could simply be a decoy, since Neal was smart enough to know they’d be followed. Getting Juliana to whatever fortress his father was residing at would be much faster taking the road. However, a party on the road would be easier for the MacGregors to catch up to. He’d decided to follow the trail in the forest and leave the road to the men Ian had sent out.
He thought he’d hit the right path when he’d found churned-up grass and hoofprints a short distance in. He’d followed a trail of broken branches and trampled leaves, as though someone had run through them, but the track had abruptly ended on the banks of the burn. Rory had walked along the banks looking for any clue that Juliana might have escaped, plunged into the shallow water, and come out on the other side, but he could find no telltale signs. Whatever had occurred on this side had stopped here.
The second trail had not offered a lot of clues, either. The men seemed to be walking their horses single file, and fewer branches were broken. He’d found some horse dung early this morning, but as dry as it was, it had probably been left yesterday. There were no signs of a camp or fire, which meant they must have traveled throughout the night.
While that must have been exhausting for Juliana—she was an Englishwoman, after all—it was a better alternative than spending the night in a tent with Neal. He must have decided it best to get her home before he bedded her.
