The Laird's Kidnapped Bride (4 page)

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Authors: Mysty McPartland

BOOK: The Laird's Kidnapped Bride
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“But Cameron, that’s only three days awa’. How can ye ask me to leave ye after all that we have shared? Please, please, my love, dinna make me go.”

“’Tis wrong in so many ways for ye to remain, lass. Ye must see that. I am about to take a wife, and out of respect for her, I canna have my former mistress living here as well. And it would be unfair to ye if I let ye stay. Can ye nae see, lass, there isna anything here for ye anymore.” He hoped she would just accept the fact that she could not stay. He couldn’t understand why she was so persistent on clinging onto something that no longer existed.

Gwen leaned closer so only he could hear what she was about to say. “If ye send me awa’, I will tell everyone ye stole that wee bitch and where they can find her.”

The furious hissing threat had him bellowing a curse. He reached out and wrapped his fingers tightly around the top of her arm. He ignored her whimper of pain. “Heed me well, wench. Ye will rue the day ye make threats against me and mine. Well, since ye have, I will just have to keep ye here. Ye will be taken to a spare cottage and closely guarded there until I see fit to let ye go. Ye also willna step in this hall again. I dinna wish to set eyes on ye any more, ye ungrateful, deceiving harridan.” He shoved her away roughly and stood up. “Big John, take the harlot to a vacant hut and keep a verra close watch on her. Make sure she speaks to nae person.”

With eyes filled with rage, he watched his ex-lover being dragged out of the hall screaming and kicking. As soon as he was wed, he would get rid of her. She would cause trouble when he set her free, but it would be far too late and there wouldn’t be anything anyone could do by then. It was a shame it had to end like this between them, but her jealous threats had sealed her fate. Ignoring everyone in the hall, he went upstairs to wash away the stench.
Pisspot indeed!
He’d only smelt a little ripe until the foolish wee lass puked all over him. Now he would not only have to bath but change his clothing as well, and he didn’t usually do either until spring, a few months away yet.

Disgruntled, he entered his chambers and crossing through the saloon, entered the bedroom to see the steaming tub in the corner. He sat down and pulled off his boots. Rising to his feet, he stripped away his now-soiled garments and stepped into the bath. Sitting down, he threw back his head and laughed. Ah, the wee vixen was delightful and certainly entertaining. She was most assuredly going to brighten up not only his life but his home as well. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so amused or laughed so much. She was like a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air together. She would undoubtedly liven things up. Aye, she would set his dour clan on their ears, and he was looking forward to all the changes that would sweep through their lives.

***

Throughout the long night, Lark made her plans, and now, as the noises from downstairs drifted up, it was time to set them into motion. Tossing the covers aside, she slipped off the mattress, her bare feet landing on the cold wooden floor. She shivered, quickly discarding her nightgown and dressing in her borrowed clothing. Finding a brush on the dresser, she combed it through the tangles, and braiding her hair, she tied it with a ribbon. Slipping her feet into her footwear, she returned to the bed.
Lord, please, please let this work,
she prayed silently as she climbed on the mattress and shifting the mounds of pillows she laid down, then stacked them over her. Carefully, she made certain that every part of her body was covered. Now all she had to do was wait for a maid to discover her missing.

Heart pounding, her nervousness increased as time slowly ticked by. It might be a foolish plan, but it was the only one she could come up with on short notice. She stiffened at the sound of the key turning in the lock and heard the swish of the door opening. Trying not to breath, she waited anxiously and the distressed cry wasn’t long in coming. “Laird! Laird, come quick.” Hearing the sound of running feet, she knew the maid had gone to fetch the odious, stinking oaf. A few moments later the heavy thud of loud boots raced towards her chamber. She squeezed her eyes shut and silently prayed she would not be discovered.

“What in the blazes d’ye mean, she’s gone?” Cameron asked the frightened maid as his gaze swept around the room. “’Tis impossible for the wee lass to have escaped. The foolish woman is probably hiding under the bed.” He marched over, bent down, swept up the fur cover and peered beneath. “Hell and damnation, where is the sly wee vixen?” Straightening up, he ruffled the blankets. “She has to be here somewhere,” he grumbled as he thoroughly searched the chamber.

“She must be a witch, Laird. ‘Tis the only way she could escape.”

Cameron snorted and watching the maid cross herself, he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Och, aye, the wee witch pulled a broom from under her skirts and flew out the window. Dinna be daft, lass, she is nae more a witch then ye or I, and the only way she could get out of here is if someone let her out.”

“Mistress Gwen was very upset when ye tossed her out last eve.”

A shake of his head dismissed the lasses suggestion. “Nay, ’tis someone else. And Gwen is nae yer mistress and is now banished from the castle anyway. Now come along, lass, we’re wasting valuable time and I’m going to find that little hellion. When I do, she willna get away from me a second time.”

After the fading, hurried footsteps could no longer be heard, Lark wiggled out from under the pillows. Brushing her loose hair off her face, she giggled. Well
that
was certainly an insightful conversation. So the stinking, rutting goat had banished his mistress? However, it meant nothing to her. She scoffed at being called a witch. Slipping off the mattress, she tiptoed to the open door and poked her head outside. Seeing the coast was clear, she hurried along the passage until she came to the back stairs. Biting her lip, she wondered if she could chance going down to the kitchen and stealing something to eat. With a shake of her head, she decided against taking such a risk. Spinning away, she rushed back down the hallway and stopped at a set of double doors.

This might be her only chance to steal some coin, so holding her breath, she turned the handle and, opening the door only a little way, slipped inside. She angled her head to the side and listened for any sound. Hearing nothing, she quickly searched the room. After a few minutes, she arched a brow. Finding the saloon so clean and elegant was certainly a shocker. She harrumphed before she stepped forward and started searching the bureau for some money. Thankfully she found some in the second drawer. There must be at least a hundred pounds, and grinning, she snatched it all up and thrust it in the pocket of her gown. Making sure she had shut the drawer, she spun away and once more her curious gaze traveled over the lovely chamber. Pity she couldn’t stay and enjoy it.

   T’was too dangerous to remain, and making herself move, she was about to walk past the table but stopped when she noticed a large bowl of fruit sitting on its shining surface. Hastily she picked up half a dozen apples before she slipped out the room. Heading down the hallway, she entered the third door from her own bedchamber. If she were lucky enough, no one would check the rooms upstairs and she would go undetected until everyone gave up searching for her. Later tonight, when everyone was sleeping, she would sneak down to the kitchen and pilfer some food. If she could stay hidden for several days, she might be able to slip away without anyone noticing. Placing the fruit on the bed, she sidled over to the window and lifted the curtain, making certain that if anyone glanced up, they wouldn’t see her.

Chaos abounded below. Everyone was running around the bailey willy-nilly, and the great smelly oaf was standing in the middle of it, issuing orders. She laughed triumphantly until her gaze drifted to the gates, and she noticed they were tightly locked. It would be impossible for her to escape that way, so she carefully studied everything she could see, trying to find a way to leave undetected. Well, she would have days to find it, and she wasn’t about to let anything defeat her now. For hours, she stood gazing out the window. It was only the sound of angry booted footsteps that made her move, and gathering up the food, she searched for somewhere to hide. It wouldn’t hurt to use the same trick as she did last time. Quickly arranging herself under the pillows, she was about to sneeze from all the dust but quickly pinched her nose just as the door flew open.

Tears burned her eyes while the room was being searched, but thankfully the thick-headed lout didn’t take long. The door slammed shut and she knew he’d left the chamber. She let go of her nose and sneezed softly, only to have her heart stop when the door suddenly flew open again. Oh hell! Fear gripped every inch of her, and it seemed like hours passed before the door was closed once more. She let out her breath but didn’t dare come out of hiding yet. It seemed to take forever before the footsteps finally walked away. Still she remained hidden under the pillows. Time dragged, and eventually taking the chance that it was now safe to leave her hiding place, she slithered from under the mound of pillows.

She’d always known that being small had its advantages, and she was feeling quite proud of herself that she’d found the perfect hiding place. Now, though, all she had to do was remain hidden for several days, and hopefully the furor of her disappearance would have died down by then and she could escape undetected. Once she found out where exactly she was, she would find the nearest village and stay at the inn for a few weeks before returning home. With luck, her betrothal to Sir Walter would be over. Moving over to the window, she carefully lifted the curtain and meticulously searched every inch of the area she could see, hoping to find a way out. 

***

Cameron just shut the door on the fourth bedchamber when he thought he heard something. Swiftly he shoved the wooden panel open again and scowling, let his eyes study every nook and cranny. Finding nothing, he sighed heavily and closed the door. He was growing frantic when he couldn’t find the wee lass, she had to be here somewhere. There was no way out but by the gates, and they’d been locked up as tight as a virgin. They were sealed, closed as a nun’s twat. He was having every cottage, every building and every inch of the grounds thoroughly combed, and while his men were doing exactly that, he was searching every room, every corner of his home. He strode down the hallway and once more checked her chamber, finding it still empty. He continued to search every bedchamber, even his own. The wee lass had to be
somewhere
.

Cursing when he didn’t find her in his own set of rooms, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. Where in hell could the wee minx be? She couldn’t have escaped, it wasn’t possible. Nay, she had to be hiding someplace, and he was going to find her, no matter how long it took. Grumbling about hardheaded, stubborn wenches, he stomped down the hall to check the rest of the castle. He was going to find her if it was the last thing he did. For the rest of the day, he investigated every inch of the keep and hadn’t discovered her whereabouts. The men also failed to find her. He slouched in his chair in the hall and drank down his ale, thumping the mug on the table and calling for more. How could the wee hellion disappear without so much as trace? It was simply impossible! Nay, someone was aiding her and hiding her. He was going to find out who it was, and when he did discover the culprit, he would punish him soundly.

For the life of him, though, he couldn’t think of anyone who would betray him this way. It just didn’t make a lick of sense to him. When his ale arrived, he quaffed it down again and ordered still more. Oh, he didn’t have any intentions of getting drunk, but he was seething in frustration and feeling completely helpless. He was also disappointed that she was attempting to escape. Didn’t she realize running away from her fate was a useless endeavor? When his next drink had arrived, sipping it more slowly, he began thinking more rationally. He hated to admit it, but he missed the wee spitting kitten. He enjoyed stirring up her temper, because the insults she threw at him were amusing and very colorful. Her tongue was as razor-sharp as a whip, and she was unafraid to tell him exactly what she thought of him. Oh, aye, and everything else that she didn’t like or found displeasing.

It was just lucky for her he wasn’t a man so easily riled, but a time or two she had managed to stick her sharp little claws into him and nearly made him lose his temper. Grumbling, he hunched in his chair, wearing a frown. The wee lass, if she tried to leave, wouldn’t stand a chance. He had guards posted everywhere, and they would stay in place until she was caught. He let out a heavy sigh, hoping it wouldn’t take too long. The priest would be here in another week. Hell, he didn’t know what he would do if he hadn’t found her by then. He shrugged his shoulders. All he could do was to keep on searching for her, surely he would find her in the next few days. He doubted that any of his clan was hiding her, so that meant she was holed up somewhere and eventually thirst and hunger would drive her out of hiding.

Silly wee lass! What did she hope to achieve by starving herself except make herself ill? He didn’t like the thought of her suffering, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it unless he found her. “Damn stubborn wee wench,” he mumbled. When she was back in his hands, he would make certain she’d never pull another crazy stunt like this one again. In fact, when he wasn’t around to keep a watchful eye one her, she would be closely guarded and she was going to be sleeping beside him every night. He would take no more risks where she was concerned. All being well, once they were married, he wouldn’t need to use such precautions and she would realize the futility of trying to run away. He let out a weary sigh and contemplated all that had happened over the last few days.

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