'I-I'm not lying.'
'You say your friend is a liar?' he asked in a voice that had sent grown warriors running.
'No, of course not. Talorc did not choose me. Your king did it for him.'
'You won't convince me that he married an Englander.' The other man's hatred of the English was too strong. He'd lost a father and a brother to a greedy English baron and his cohort, the English woman who betrayed the Sinclair clan.
'Talorc hates the English more than he hates the MacDonalds,' Drustan said, echoing Lachlan's thoughts.
'I know Talorc hates the English and it has not been a happy relationship.' There was too much truth in her tone for Lachlan to continue to dismiss her claim. 'But I am his wife. Your king and my king ordered it and my dowry was substantial.'
He did not think Talorc would be moved by any amount of money, but he could not guess at the workings of the other clan chief's mind.
'Why aren't you wearing his plaid?' he asked, while his mind latched on to the ease with which his revenge could be enhanced in this fortuitous circumstance.
'His willingness to marry did not extend to having an Englishwoman wearing his plaid. He is not entirely reconciled to this marriage.'
Lachlan had no trouble believing that. Looking at the all-too-innocent expression in the woman's eyes, he could not help wondering if that lack of reconciliation meant the marriage had not yet been consummated.
'If you are his wife, he would only thank the Balmorals for ridding himself of you,' Ulf said from behind them.
Hurt flared briefly in her eyes and then she shielded them with her lashes, shrugging. 'His pride would not like it, even if his emotions found only relief.'
Curiously, her hurt feelings moved Lachlan and he turned, glaring his brother into silence.
Ulf's eyes widened, but he said nothing, merely frowned.
Lachlan did not understand the fury coursing through him or the profound disappointment on finding that this unique and lovely woman was the wife of his enemy. However, he did understand that it would be cruel indeed to leave her to face Talorc's wrath when he learned of his sister's capture.
He focused on the woman. She had regained her composure and was speaking again.
'Even if I am English,' Emily added under her breath, inexplicably hurt by the Balmoral soldier's cruel words.
She should not care what any of these barbarians thought.
Her captor heard her and smiled. Her heart almost stopped. An enemy's smile should not look so heavenly, particularly in a face painted for war.
Without another word, he grabbed her and swung up on his horse again, dropping her in the same embarrassing perch she'd been before. Her legs straddled the horse and her backside sat against his hard thighs. She gave a gasp of surprise, but otherwise tried to hide her fear now that her plan had worked.
She turned to her friend and said, 'You must not concern yourself for me, Cait. I shall be fine. You can see that these warriors are kind and honorable.'
Cait simply shook her head, apparently struck dumb.
Emily tried to smile, but didn't quite make it. 'Goodbye, Cait.'
At that moment the horses started moving, but the warrior her captor had called Drustan did not release Cait.
'You must let Cait go now that you have me.'
Her captor said nothing.
She pinched at his thigh, but it was like trying to pinch a stone. 'I said, you've got to let my friend go.'
'Nay.'
'Yes.'
'I will not be silenced. Let her go, or I'll start screaming so loudly, they're bound to hear me all the way back at the keep.'
'One sound like that and I will gag you.'
She gasped.
His hold on her tightened… a warning squeeze she wasn't about to ignore. She had no desire to be gagged.
Her situation was dire enough. Her plan hadn't worked. Instead of releasing her friend, the warrior had kidnapped them both. What kind of man was this Highland laird that the prospect of stealing another laird's wife was not enough vengeance to take?
She had to make one last attempt to change his mind, as futile as it might be. 'But if you don't leave one of us behind, who will tell Talorc that it was the Balmorals that did this thing?' she asked, desperately.
'The boy who was guarding you had opportunity to see our plaid before we knocked him asleep,' the warrior said in a tone that discouraged further questions.
She didn't see what she had to lose. 'You left that poor boy senseless? What if wild animals get him? Then who will tell? What if wild animals had gotten me on my way back to the holding if I
Her captor did not bother to answer. The horses gradually picked up speed until the war party was galloping away from Sinclair land at a speed that made Emily's head spin. She prayed for the safety of the unborn baby in her friend's womb and then prayed the man holding her would not drop her.
Several hours later, after riding rigidly in her captor's arms, she was praying for the strength to withstand just one more minute of this torture before disgracing herself and crying like a baby. When she thought she could not take another moment of the pain in her back from trying to sit away from the man carrying her, he raised his hand in a silent command to halt.
He swung down from his horse, bringing her with him. But he let her go immediately as if he could not stand to touch her. Foolishly offended by his rejection, she groaned in pain as she straightened her back, sure the moisture burning her eyes was from that pain alone. Truthfully, it was all she could do not to sink to her knees in weak relief. She walked gingerly, making her way to her friend's side to check on Cait's condition.
'Are you all right?' she asked with concern.
Cait smiled wearily. Emily was obviously in pain and trying to hide it. She was only human after all and the ride had been a punishing one… even for Cait. And she was a femwolf. 'Yes. Drustan held me very gently and took care that I was not jostled by his horse.'
The warrior's consideration made her feel strange. She knew their plan was to keep her in retaliation for Susannah, but he was not being cruel to her. In fact, he'd been more careful with her than her husband had ever been.
But if he could be so careful of her, why had the clan been so careless of Susannah? A femwolf left to hunt alone, especially when she was in heat, was fair game for an unmated werewolf and well they should know it.
'You on the other hand look as if you were forced to ride balancing on a mace,' Cait added.
Emily grimaced, her heart-shaped face pinched and pale with exhaustion. 'You are not far from the truth. The effort to sit forward and maintain my balance has left my back feeling like it will never straighten completely again.'
'Why did you not relax against Lachlan? Surely he could withstand your weight if Drustan could withstand mine.'
Emily looked askance at her. '
Cait shook her head. Was it Emily's Englishness or the fact that she was a human that made her so prim? Cait would never have spent such a grueling ride trying to maintain propriety, but then she was a wolf and they were taught from the cradle to be more practical about their bodies than the human members of her clan tended to be.
'How did you know my captor's name?' Emily asked. 'Have you seen him before?'
'No, but he's obviously the leader and he spoke possessively about Susannah, so I'm guessing he is the laird of the Balmoral clan… Lachlan. He could be her brother, but if I'm to be kept by Drustan, I can't help thinking he's
