Authors: Patricia Potter
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Scottish
Beloved Stranger (37 page)
Cedric thought about killing Kimbra and still asking ransom, but he wanted her now more than ever. And he wanted Lachlan’s head. If not for the Scot, Kimbra would have married him. He would have become the Charlton’s favorite, mayhap even his heir. But once the Scot appeared, she had planted seeds of distrust in the old man’s head.
Cedric mounted the destrier. “Follow me,” he told his brother, and holding the reins of the horse he’d tied Kimbra to, he turned west. The mountains there were particularly rugged, and the horse trail difficult to follow.
He turned around. She had not gained consciousness yet.
But soon she would know who her master was.
ONE of the Charlton’s men, a man named Davie’s John, guided Lachlan through the labyrinth of trails to the border.
The two of them rode hard, and Lachlan came to appreciate the small hardy horses with sure feet as they crossed the treacherous paths.
Davie’s John moved his horse closer to his. He had volunteered to guide Lachlan. “The border is just on the other side of the pass.”
They turned toward the pass. Watchful, they started through it. Lachlan had nearly reached the end, when he saw two bodies on the ground. One looked familiar. He slipped from the hobbler.
Archibald!
An arrow jutted out his back. Lachlan’s heart nearly stopped. Archibald and Hector had been the only two constants in his life.
“Archibald?”
Dear God, please let him live.
Dear God, please let him live.
The man moaned.
Lachlan knelt down. The arrow had gone through Archibald’s body.
Archibald opened his eyes. “Lachlan,” he said. A pained smile crossed his lips. “We feared ye had died.”
“Nay, I am still among the living. What happened now?”
“A Charlton brought a demand for ransom. Rory sent a thousand pounds in gold as . . . good faith.” Archibald struggled to continue. “Kimbra Charlton . . . we found her . . . she was sent back with the ransom. An Armstrong and I were to accompany them.”
“A Charlton?” Lachlan’s pulse raced. “His name?”
“Cedric.”
Hate washed over him. He’d never known real hate before. He felt it now.
“The woman? Kimbra?”
“He took the lass with him. She tried to run . . . I think mayhap to distract him from me.”
Cold fear lodged in Lachlan’s heart. Apparently Cedric had slain two of his own clan members. He would not hesitate killing a woman, nor hurting her in the worst possible way.
But he could not leave Archibald like this, either.
“Go, lad,” Archibald said. “Go after her.”
“I cannot leave you,” Lachlan said, though his heart was breaking. He would do what he could for Archibald, then see whether he could follow the tracks. He looked up at the sky. It would soon be twilight, then dark.
He turned toward Davie’s John and saw the man leaning over the other fallen man.
Davie’s John shook his head, then came over to them. “He is dead. An Armstrong by the look of him.”
“They took Kimbra,” Lachlan said.
“I will get help,” Davie’s John said. “Someone who can track.” The Charlton mounted and left at a gallop.
Lachlan stayed at the side of his mentor, the man who’d been more a father to him than his own father had been. He said a silent prayer, then studied the arrow. By God’s mercy it must have missed a lung, or he would be dead now. But one movement could kill him.
Archibald groaned, tried to move.
“Nay, stay there,” Lachlan said. “Tell me everything you can.”
“There were . . . four of us, Cedric, an Armstrong, myself, and the lady. Then I felt as if I were hit by lightning. Someone rode down and went after my horse. That’s all I know, lad. I knew that if I moved again, they would kill me, so I played dead . . . hoped they would say something . . .”
“Did they?”
“Border. West. That is all.”
“How many?”
“Just two that I saw. I did not get a good look. Just heard them. Lad, I had a thousand pounds for yer ransom.” He looked at Lachlan. “How did ye . . . ?”
“I was given my parole after they found two men dead near the border and Kimbra Charlton missing.” His face felt like stone, his heart torn in two by the choice he was being forced to make. But he knew Archibald would die if he did not tend him.
“The lady?”
“Aye,” Lachlan replied gently. “Now say nothing more,” he said. “I am going to break off the arrow head and pull it through.”
“Go after them. Yer brother is not far behind me.”
“When I finish with you.”
He broke off the head and gave Archibald a piece of wood to bite. He did not have to tell him it would hurt. Then he went to Archibald’s back, braced himself, and pulled.
The arrow came out. And blood.
Lachlan pulled off Archibald’s shirt. He tore it and bound the wound.
He heard a shout then, and looked up. His brother was walking, then running toward them, holding the reins of a horse limping badly and leaving a trail of blood.
Rory clasped him tightly, then looked down at Archibald on the ground. His eyes were closed.
“Archibald said they were ambushed, that Cedric Charlton took the money and Kimbra. I have to go after them.”
Rory closed his eyes for a moment. “Blazes,” he said, “she warned me about him. I should have listened more closely. I was following, but the horse threw a shoe.”
“Stay here with Archibald,” Lachlan said. “I am going after her.”
“No,” Rory said. “It was my mistake.”
“She’s going to be
my
wife,” Lachlan said.
my
wife,” Lachlan said.
Rory stared at him in astonishment.
“Aye,” Lachlan said. “Give me your weapons.”
Still looking stunned, Rory handed him his sword, dagger, and bow and arrow.
“I have sent for help,” Lachlan said. “Archibald said they mentioned going west along the border.” Then he grabbed the reins of the horse he’d borrowed from the Charlton and dug his heels in the hobbler’s sides.
K
IMBRA woke to stabbing pain in her face and nearly everywhere else. She’d been tied to a saddle and swayed back and forth.
How long had she been unconscious? Where were they going? What happened to the Armstrong? To Archibald Maclean? Then she remembered the arrow through his back.
She tried to raise her head enough to see where they were going. Pain ripped through her.
Audra.
Her heart cried for her daughter. She would know her mother was missing by now. Who would look after her? Mother her?
Her heart cried for her daughter. She would know her mother was missing by now. Who would look after her? Mother her?
That agony was worse than any physical one could possibly be.
She had to stay alive for her daughter. No matter what Cedric did to her, she
had
to stay alive.
had
to stay alive.
She did not know how long it was before they stopped. She only knew that the sky was darkening and shadows were getting longer. The ropes holding her to the horse were untied. Her hands and wrists remained so, however. They had already cut deeply into her wrists.
She was jerked from the horse and landed on the ground. She looked up to see the smile on Cedric’s face.
“Not so much the lady now,” he said.
She wanted to spit at him. But now the important thing was to stay alive for Audra’s sake.
“No words? You always had enough before.”
Her cap had come loose, and he pulled her to her feet by her hair and dragged her to a tree and tied her to it.
“Ye will be silent,” he said, “though it should be a long time before anyone knows what happened. If they ever do. Money and a thief gone missing. Yer Scot’s ransom will not be paid. He will think ye took it. Mayhap the Charlton will get tired of waiting and hand him over to the English. All this while ye and I get better acquainted.”
“The Charlton would not believe it.”
“Why should he not?”
“They will find you and hang you.”
“Ye say that with such viciousness, Kimbra. Ye are in no position to do so.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, even with gentleness, then struck her hard. “I have much to teach ye, and ye will learn quickly.”
Then he left her and went over to his brother. He said something to Garrick, who then mounted his horse again and rode off.
“We do not want visitors,” he said, “though I think it will take a day or more before they find that Scot.”
She wanted to tell him that the Scot lived, that Lachlan’s brother was behind them and probably had found his friend by now. She wanted to remove the smug look from his face.
Oh, how she wanted to do that.
Instead she was silent. She hoped Rory Maclean was the man his brother was. She hoped . . .
She hoped she would see Audra again.
Cedric looked disappointed at her lack of response. He walked away and unsaddled his hobbler. Then he started back toward her.
West Along the Border
The two brothers had apparently thought Archibald dead, but he was a tough old soldier.
Lachlan galloped in the direction Archibald had indicated, but soon slowed. He slipped down from the horse. The path was clear, but would they have kept to it?
He led the horse, looking for recent tracks. The way was rocky, but occasionally he saw the imprint of a hoof. Then evidence of a recent passing. The dung was still fresh.
He speeded his steps. It would be nightfall before long, and he had no torch with him. The sky was clear, though, he could already see the luminous outline of a part moon. He prayed he could see enough to continue.
The night grew darker. Though the path was visible, the ground was not. He feared they might have taken another path, or route. Just as he was about to despair, he noticed first by smell, then by sight, horse droppings. It was warm.
He must have gained time on them. They could not travel too quickly with Kimbra along, and if he knew her as well as he thought he did, she would not be a compliant prisoner. The other thought, that Cedric would want to take his pleasure of her, drove him on.
He heard the snort of a horse and covered his own mount’s mouth. “Quiet,” he whispered, not knowing whether the horse would obey. The animal stomped one hoof, then quieted.
He tied the reins of the horse to a tree, then advanced on foot. He decided to try the bow and arrow first, but his dagger was in a sheath at his waist.
Lachlan moved into the woods and circled, all the time listening for any sound not in keeping with the mountains. He finally heard the horse again and moved toward it, hoping his own horse would remain silent.
Then he saw the figure in the moonlight. Cedric’s brother, Garrick. He was sitting on a boulder overlooking the trail.
He took his bow off his shoulder and notched an arrow.
Now!
His fingers would not let the arrow go. Then as if sensing something, the man turned toward him.
He ambushed Archibald. He took Kimbra.
Lachlan’s hand loosed the arrow. The figure crumpled and fell. He went over to the body and nudged it over with his boot. The arrow had pierced the heart.
Lachlan’s hand loosed the arrow. The figure crumpled and fell. He went over to the body and nudged it over with his boot. The arrow had pierced the heart.
Cedric should be nearby. Lachlan smelled smoke and moved toward it.
He heard a cry then. A woman’s voice. It struck straight to his heart.
Be strong, Kimbra. I am coming.
K
IMBRA struggled against the ropes that burned and cut into her wrists and ankles.
She watched as Cedric built a small fire. When he turned toward her, she lashed out with her bound legs and managed to kick him.
Even as she did so, she knew it was unwise to madden him any further, but it was more instinctive than not. She would not give up easily.
She had aimed for his manhood, but he moved just quickly enough that she hit his legs, knocking him down. He cursed, rose, and slapped her, knocking her head against the ground.
He stood over her and ripped her gown.
She screamed and tried to kick him again.
Cedric tore pieces from her gown and used the cloth to tie her bound ankles to one tree, her wrists to another until she was stretched out.
Nearly naked now, she felt his hungry gaze on her. Her blood pounded, and she shuddered with humiliation. And rage. She could only watch helplessly as he lay his dagger down and unlaced his breeches. She twisted against the bonds, but they only dug deeper into her.
“At last,” he said. “I will enjoy this, my lady,” he mocked. “I will show you what a real man does.”
He lowered himself onto her, and she tried to twist away as his rancid odor assaulted her. Waves of revulsion swept over her.
She heard a shout, and a body hurled itself on him, knocking him away from her. She saw the auburn hair in the light from the fire.
Lachlan.
Dear God, he was far from healed. Cedric was strong as an ox.
Surprise had helped him, stunning Cedric for a moment, but as Lachlan raised a dagger, Cedric deflected the blow and rolled over on him. The dagger tumbled from Lachlan’s hand.
Both men pummeled each other, though she did not know how Lachlan kept fighting. Then she saw the dagger Cedric had dropped just before assaulting her.
She fought the bonds. The cloth binding her rope-bound wrists to the tree started to give, and she pulled with all her strength, despite the agony of ropes cutting through her skin. Then suddenly it gave.
Her hands were still tied together, but she could move. She scrambled for the dagger, grabbed it with her two hands, then cut the ropes on her ankles.
Cedric was over Lachlan, punching him.
She yelled out to distract him. As Cedric turned toward her, Lachlan used his legs to knock him over. She pushed the dagger toward him. He grabbed it and plunged it into Cedric Charlton.
Cedric moaned, tried to move, then was still.
“His brother,” she whispered. “He is out there.”
“He’s dead,” Lachlan said, his voice and breath coming in rasps. He cut the rest of her bonds, gently taking her hands and staring at the deep cuts. “May he roast in hell.”
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