Dangerous Pride (27 page)

The moon was almost full, and it helped guide her way as she traveled at a frantic pace. As much as the light was a blessing, helping her see any obstacles that lay in her path, it also made her visible to anyone who might come looking for her.  If she had guessed her location correctly, she was a short ride from Boyne Castle.  As much as she dreaded seeing her father again, and facing his contempt, she knew she had no option.  She wouldn’t be able to find her way back to Tolquhon alone, especially not at night.

After pushing the mare hard for almost an hour, Catriona began to ease back on the poor animal.  Having seen no sign of any of the men following her, she felt a small surge of excitement that her plan had succeeded.  There were still several hours of night left, and with any luck, she would reach Boyne in short order.

The path she’d taken trailed around the Deveron River.  It was not the most direct route to Boyne, but she wanted to make it more difficult for the men to follow her.  Knowing the mare could not keep up the pace much longer without some rest, Catriona slowed the animal to a halt, slipping from her back as she led her to the edge of the water.  As the animal drank greedily, Catriona twisted back her hair, cupping water in her free hand so she could drink.  While the animal turned her attention to the long grass near the river, Catriona knelt again by the river, splashing water on her face and neck.  The cool brace of the water refreshed and calmed her, and within a few minutes, she felt strong enough to continue her journey.

Rising to her feet, Catriona wiped the grass and dirt from her skirts as she turned to reclaim her mare.  Shock and terror coursed through her as she realized she was no longer alone.  The mare’s reins were now in the hands of the one man she had hoped never to see again.

Calum Leslie’s cold, dark eyes took quick stock of the young woman’s exhausted condition, his eyes lingering on the cold, wet bodice of her dress as it clung provocatively to her skin.  While she may have lacked the passion and fire of her older sister, Catriona had indeed grown into a fetching young woman.  What a pity, he decided, that she wasn’t more obedient.

“What an unexpected surprise,” Calum said calmly as Catriona slowly stepped backwards, anxious to put some distance between herself and the man who had cost her so much.  His deep, menacing voice sent shivers of fear down her spine.  “Now Catriona, yer supposed to be safe in the care of the men I sent to fetch you.  What could you possibly be doing here without them?”

Her suspicions confirmed, Catriona felt her knees threatening to buckle.  Frantically, she looked behind her, realizing any attempt to flee would be futile.  Calum would easily outrun her.

Casually tossing the mare’s reins to the ground, Calum walked toward her, his hand resting loosely on the dirk he wore at his waist.  With a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he studied her, threateningly, as he reached out to grab her arm.

Catriona stifled a cry of pain as his fingers bit into her flesh, drawing her so close she felt his breath on her cheek.  “I think you’d better explain what yer doing here,” he spat out, his expression dark and angry.  “My men will no’ live long enough to do so, for I allow them but one chance to fail me.  Given that fact, you can have the honor of enlightening me.”

Calum half-dragged, half-carried her to a tree that had fallen close to the river.  Angrily he pushed her down to the ground, his breath rapid and shallow as he struggled to control his fury.  The man was holding on to his sanity by the barest thread, and she dared not push him any further.  “I did no’ realize it was yer men who escorted me from Forbes lands,” she said finally, making every effort to keep her voice calm, her tone mild.  Her only hope was to make him believe she welcomed his involvement.  “If I had kent they meant to return me to Boyne, I would ne’er have tried to escape them.  But they said naught of their plans, and so I was left with no choice but to fend for myself.”

With a growl of contempt, Calum lowered himself to the ground, resting his weight on his haunches as he continued his cold, black stare.  “You can be sure you signed their death warrants.  If they canna keep control of one lass, they are of no use to me.”

“What you do with yer men is no’ my concern,” she replied, her expression detached.  “I do think, however, you owe me an explanation as to why you brought me here.”

A smirk began to spread over Calum’s dark features.  “You certainly have changed since I saw you last, Catriona.  I do no’ remember that yer tongue was quite so sharp before.  It’s an improvement, to be sure, though anything would be better than that scared little mouse.”  He reached closer, drawing a lock of her hair into his hand as he idly wrapped the curl around his fingers.  “Here you are now – the Lady of Tolquhon Castle, with a new husband who cares so little for you that he allows you to fall into the hands of his enemies.”

She flinched before she could stop herself.  “You need no’ deny it, Catriona.  My men have been watching yer every move, practically since the moment you said yer vows.  We were biding our time, waiting for the chance to scoop you up and return you to yer rightful home.  Which is what I am doing now.”

Not trusting her voice, Catriona merely arched her slender brows, silently indicating he should continue.  “You made a mess of things for me when you returned, Catriona.  I had yer Dad eating out of the palm of my hand after you left.  I had more control over his affairs than you could ever imagine.”  Calum’s expression was wistful as he reflected on his past glories, though his features quickly shifted into a scowl as he contemplated how much he had lost.

“Of course, all that hard work was destroyed when yer idiot brother decided to bring you back.  When you married the Forbes, the rivalry I’d worked so hard to build was swept away in a heartbeat.”  Calum reached down to the shore, grabbing a handful of sand that he slowly let trickle through his fingers.  “The damned fools were even willing to forget you’d been accused of yer sister’s murder.  You were the key to it all,” he said softly, terrifying her with the intensity of his hatred.  “But I have you now, and they are left with naught.”

“What do I have that you need, Calum?” she asked quietly, desperate not to anger him further.

“Yer the only thing preventing a clan war. I worked hard to create one, but you came back and made it impossible.  All that has changed now.  I’ve stolen you from the Forbes, and with you gone, the alliance between the clans will be destroyed.  He’ll blame yer brother for stealing you away, and yer brother will blame him when you disappear without a trace,” he explained, his eyes flashing wildly in the moonlight.

“Do you no’ see?  They’ll both expect the worst of the other, and most likely they’ll be killed trying to defend their honor.  After they destroy each other, you’ll give me the one thing I need to secure my position as laird of Boyne Castle.”

Catriona was terrified of his answer, but she needed to know what he planned.  “How can I possible secure yer position?” she asked gently.  “I would like to know what you’ll expect of me.”

“It’s really quite simple,” he replied, his tone patient as he spoke, as if he were explaining something to a child.  “Once yer husband and brother are dead, and yer quickening with my bairn, yer father will have no choice but to accept me as his son-by-marriage.  He can hardly have his only grandchild born on the wrong side of the blanket now, can he?”

Catriona could only stare in horror as Calum congratulated himself on the brilliance of his plan.  The depth of his obsession and his insanity horrified her.

With an impatient yank he drew her closer, so close she could feel the evidence of his arousal as it pressed against her belly.  “There is no reason to wait, Catriona, for the quicker we begin the task, the sooner we’ll see the fruits of our labors.  You do no’ mind if I pretend yer Elizabeth, do you?”  His breath, stale and cold, sent a wave of nausea through her as she struggled to pull away.  Her resistance only seemed to fuel his desire.  Grabbing her hair in one hand, he yanked her head closer, covering her mouth with his own.  His teeth gnashed against her lips until she pulled her head back, struggling for breath.

“Calum – wait, please!” she pleaded, twisting frantically in his grasp.  He pulled her hair back again, staring into her eyes with a look that was evil and dominating.  “You do no’ understand,” she cried, frantically trying to make him listen.  “Surely there’s another way for you to gain Boyne.  My husband – my father – they both will pay any ransom for my return.  You’ll be richly rewarded if you will only let me go unharmed.”

Her desperate words had little effect.  Releasing his hold on her hair, he grabbed her arm roughly, leading her to a patch of grass near the river.  “I already have the prize I want, and you’d do well to save yer breath.  You will no’ convince me otherwise,” he spat out, shoving her roughly as she stumbled to the ground.

The sound of metal hitting stone drew her attention back to the man before her.  As his belt hit the ground, he unfastened his kilt, tossing the heavy plaid garment to the side.  In an instant he was kneeling beside her, clad only in his coarsely woven shirt.  Before she could move, he had ripped her shawl from her shoulders and tossed it aside in an impatient gesture.  “There will no’ be any more delay,” he hissed as he shifted his body atop hers, pinning her to the ground with his superior weight.

Catriona could smell the ale on his breath, and felt the brutal strength in his body as he took her hands and held them above her head.  With his free hand, he reached down to grab the hem of her skirt, yanking it up around her waist while she thrashed violently beneath him.  As she began to scream, he plunged his tongue in her mouth, stifling the cry that was springing from her lips.  Unthinkingly, she bit his tongue, desperate to be free of the taste of him.

With a howl of pain, Calum pulled back, using his free hand to slap Catriona viciously across the face.  Her head thrown to the side, she lay stunned and shocked, too disoriented to understand what was happening to her.  “You stupid bitch – you should ken better that to fight me,” he hissed as he cruelly yanked her around to face him.  “Mayhap you have the same spirit as yer sister after all.  But she was always so much more obliging,” he added, shifting his weight atop her.

Slowly he reached down to grab the dirk he kept hidden inside his boot.  He used the sharp, deadly blade to cut the laces at the front of Catriona’s dress, heedless of the small, painful cuts he made in her skin.  With a grunt of satisfaction, he cruelly tore the material apart, exposing her pale breasts to the moonlight.  A look of intense desire crossed his face as he paused to admire his handiwork.

Catriona lay stunned and confused, the chill of the ground leeching what little strength remained in her body.  Calum’s blow had left her feeling oddly detached from the attack.  She could feel his hands on her body, yet it was as if it were happening to someone else.  She closed her eyes tightly to distance herself from the horror of the assault as a stream of warm tears coursed down her cheeks to the earth beneath her.

Vaguely she was aware of the feel of his hands on her breasts, and then the sensation of his body being lifted from hers.  She kept her eyes closed, grateful that her mind was sparing her the full horror of the rape.  Within seconds that felt like hours, a voice emerged from the fog of her terror.

“You miserable son of a bitch,” the voice exploded, rage and fury hanging from every word. “You are going to pay for this with yer life.”  Catriona shook her head, struggling to identify the voice through the horrible detachment that clouded her mind.  As she tried to clear her thoughts she was overcome with the sensation she was falling, tumbling down a tunnel, away from everything and everyone who threatened her.

And then the world went mercifully black.

Calum slowly stumbled to his feet, having been thrown face-down into the grass near Catriona’s motionless body.  With his dirk clenched firmly in his hand, he turned to face his attacker.

It took every ounce of his self control for Lachlan not to run Calum through with his sword then and there.  He and his men had been trailing Catriona the entire night, slowly closing the gap between them.  They had stumbled upon the kidnappers’ makeshift camp only an hour earlier, and had not lingered long.  Ruthlessly, they had dispatched her captors one by one.  They had left only one man alive, and only after he had told them everything they wanted to know.  Tied naked to his horse, the man had been set free with a clear message for his employer.

Relief had overwhelmed Lachlan when he learned Catriona was still alive – relief and pride at the fact she had found the strength and the wit to escape her captors.  Her path had been easy to follow, and forcing their chargers to their limits, it had taken little time for them to track her to the riverbank.

Nothing could have prepared Lachlan for the cold, stark terror he’d felt when he saw Leslie attacking his wife.  It had been almost more than he could bear, the sight of Catriona’s pale, limp body as it lay pressed beneath that animal.  She still hadn’t stirred, and his concern for her nearly undid him.  He could see the bodice of her dress was ripped open, and that her skirt was bunched about her waist.  Yet he didn’t know how badly Leslie had hurt her – or if in fact she was still alive.  The one person he had vowed to honor and protect lay still as death before him.  Anger, all consuming and overpowering, coursed through his veins.  This animal would pay for all he had done to Catriona.  By God, he would pay.

Leslie stood before him, shaking his head as if to clear the lust from his brain, so he could focus on his opponent.  For several tense moments, the two men stared warily at each other, circling for a better position.  Finally, Lachlan turned to his men, motioning for the one nearest him to come forward.  Tossing the man his sword, Lachlan calmly loosened the small dirk he carried at his waist.

The look of surprise that crossed Calum’s face was fleeting, but its meaning was clear enough.  “You may not be a man who values honor, Leslie, but I am. I’ll fight you here and now, but I’ll do it fairly.  I take no pride in killing an unarmed man, even if he is a worthless piece of garbage.”