Page 59 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
“Spoken like a true Knox,” the man said with a slight chuckle.
Emma tilted her head as she tried to put a name to the voice. Surely the men had to have known her father, there was no other reason for them to bring up the Knox name. But why they had taken her baffled her.
“But dinnae fash yerself now, lass. We’ve liberated ye from that beastly laird,” another countered.
“There was nay need to rescue me,” Emma growled. “I was exactly where I wanted to be. And if ye truly served me faither, ye’ll bring me back where ye found me.”
“Sorry, lass, but we have our orders from the Laird himself,” the first husky voice said.
“Brandon? Brandon McNeal? Is that ye?” Emma asked as every muscle in her body tightened at the thought of her father’s closest friend being the one to kidnap her.
“Might as well take the sack off,” the other said. “We’re close enough to the camp. And I doubt she’ll be runnin’ out into the wilderness. Especially with those clouds brewin’ overhead.”
Emma flinched as the rough sack was yanked off her head, leaving her hair disheveled and her senses momentarily dazed. As her eyes adjusted to the waning light, she squinted against the deep oranges and purples of the setting sun, noticing the ominous clouds amassing in the east.
The approaching storm seemed to mirror the turmoil she felt inside. She gasped softly as her gaze settled on the two figures before her—Brandon and Duncan—standing like statues, their silhouettes sharpened against the dimming sky.
Her heart skipped a beat, a mix of relief and uncertainty washing over her as the reality of her predicament fully sank in.
“I take it me cousin is here,” Emma said, trying to keep her tone steady.
Deep down, she knew Geoffrey wasn’t going to let her go so easily. But never in a million years did she think he’d stoop so low as to kidnap her, especially now that she was married.
Emma’s thoughts shifted to Hunter. She wondered if Nora had told him that she was missing. But as Brandon pulled her closer to the bonfire, a new terror seeped into her.
What if Nora didn’t make it to Hunter? What if Goeffrey ordered his men to kill her, as they had planned to do before they fled?
Terror gripped her heart. Her breaths came in short, wild bursts. Emma’s head grew lighter by the minute, and she reached out for something to steady herself. Easing herself down to the stump of a tree, Emma focused all her anger on Brandon.
“What happened to me sister?” Emma growled. “Did ye kill her?”
Brandon’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “Of course nae. We were only told to liberate ye. Word spread quickly that ye married the disfigured Laird MacRoss, and, well, there were plenty of loyal men willin’ to come out here and save ye.”
Emma shot to her feet. “Ye think ye’ve helped me? Do ye nae ken that yer actions may have just started a war between MacRoss and Clyde?”
“I dinnae think it’ll come to that.”
An icy finger raced down Emma’s spine as Geoffrey’s voice reached her ears. She closed her eyes, wishing that she was dreaming, that she hadn’t been torn from her sisters or her husband.
“Ye see, I’ve made sure Laird MacRoss willnae have any reasons to suspect Clan Clyde’s involvement. And that’s how it’ll remain.”
Emma turned around slowly, finding herself not quite ready to face her cousin. But knew she couldn’t ignore him, no matter how hard she tried.
“Hunter will come for me,” Emma stated boldly, forcing back all hesitation and doubt that sprang up within her.
“It’s a romantic notion, is it nae? Ye bein’ the damsel in distress, but nae all stories have a happy endin’. Some just end.”
“What do ye want from me?” Emma asked, trying not to flinch as Geoffrey brushed his fingertips over her cheek.
His clammy fingers revulsed her. Recoiling from his touch, she glared at him.
“To see that ye make the right choice, this time,” Geoffrey said, a sinister smirk curling at the corners of his lips.
“And what choice is that?”
“Ye married the wrong man,” Geoffrey said as he pinched her chin, forcing her eyes to remain locked on his. “But ye’ll find that I can be a forgivin’ laird.”
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