Page 47 of Never Tempt a Scot
Lydia touched her wrists, which had been rubbed raw by the thick ropes.
“May I please have these removed? I won’t run away. I haven’t the faintest idea where I am.”
“See, Reggie?” Fergus snorted. “I told you she was a proper English lady.”
“Cut her loose,” Willie commanded in a deep, curt tone that sent chills down her spine. “You canna run. And if you do, wewillfind you, and you willna like us when we bring you back.”
Lydia nodded. She was not a fool. Running away would only get her killed, or exposed to the elements with no ready source of food, water, or shelter.
Reggie pulled a small but dangerously sharp blade from his boot and cut the ropes around her wrists. Her skin was raw and bleeding in a few places. Lydia bit her lip to hold back a whimper. These men had very little kindness in them, and they would have no sympathy for her pains, but she needed to find out what she could about them.
“Excuse me, but why did you take me?”
“For a pretty English bird like you, those fancy gents you were traveling with would do anything to get you back. They’ll pay a hefty price for you,” Willie explained.
“But how will they find me?” she asked.
“We left a note where we snatched you. It tells them where to meet us tomorrow and how much we want for you.”
They must have been prepared to take the first traveler they came upon that they could snatch up from amongst a party who dared to stop at the side of the road. It was a clever enough plan, but they had chosen poorly. She wasn’t entirely sure that Rafe and Brodie would come after her. She hoped they would, but now that Brodie was rid of her, perhaps he would be glad she was gone and think nothing more of her. What then? Would these men let her go, or would they kill her?
“Go ahead and sleep,” Willie ordered. “We’ll wake you when it’s time.”
Lydia lay down on the ground, shifting to find a position that was somewhat comfortable, which she soon learned was impossible. As she lay there, she listened to the men whisper in the dark, their words little more than the soft hisses and clicks of a language she didn’t understand. It must be Gaelic. She finally drifted to sleep, dreaming of Brodie and wondering whether or not he would come after her.
Brodie scannedthe edge of the forest. It had been nearly fifteen minutes, and there was still no sign of Lydia.
“Rafe, I’m going after her,” he called out.
Rafe waved a hand at him to indicate he had heard. Brodie, his hand on the knife in his coat, started toward the woods. He moved slowly, studying the way the branches had broken as he followed the trail Lydia had left. He paused at a clearing near a small stream. Dozens of footprints were imprinted deep in the soaked grass, and one of Lydia’s blue hair ribbons lay on the ground, ravaged with mud. Beside it lay a folded bit of paper. A hasty note had been scrawled on the paper.
We have your woman. Meet us at noon tomorrow at the Boar’s Head Inn on the main road. Bring two hundred pounds or she dies.
Brodie crushed the note in his fist. A blood rage swept through him, so powerful that if the men who had taken her had stood before him at that moment, he would have swung a broadsword as his ancestors had in the past and taken their heads clean off. Instead, he drew a steadying breath and made his way back to the coach.
“Rafe!” he bellowed. Rafe was leaning against the coach, his arms folded.
Rafe pushed away from the coach, his lazy, sardonic manner vanishing. “What? Didn’t you find her?”
He pushed the crumpled note into Rafe’s hand. “She was taken.” Rafe smoothed out the note and read the message aloud.
“Bloody Christ,” he growled. “So, do we meet them?”
Brodie stared at the four horses for a moment. “No. Here’s what we’ll do. Free one of the horses. I will follow their trail. You will continue down the road to the Boar’s Head and wait for me. If they arrive and I dinna come, you pay whatever they ask and wait for me to join you.”
“I’ll go with you,” Rafe said.
“No, you can’t. I need to ken that you will protect Lydia and free her from those men if they reach the inn before I can catch up to them.”
“You don’t think there’s any chance they’ll be on the road ahead of us?” Rafe asked.
“Would you, if this was your plan?”
“No, I wouldn’t. I would stay off the main road and hide a safe distance away, somewhere I felt comfortable I wouldn’t be attacked, or where I felt I would have a decent chance of seeing anyone coming.”
“They willna see me coming,” Brodie said in a dark tone that matched his rage. If they harmed her, he would kill every one of them.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Rafe asked. “You know I like the kitten, and if they hurt her ...”
