Dwyn’s mouth tightened with disgust. “And that is supposed to convince me to marry ye willingly?”
“Nay,” he admitted. “What’ll do that is the fact that do I have to force ye out o’ this tent and make ye say yer vows, I’lllet me men do what they will with you, as well as yer sisters when we get to Innes. I ken how much ye care about yer sisters,”he added with the satisfaction of a man who thought he held all the cards.
Brodie set her down on her feet then, and Dwyn stumbled slightly to the side before finding her balance. Once she was steady,he asked, “What’ll it be?”
Dwyn stared at him silently for a minute, and then shrugged with disinterest and turned to walk toward the tent entrance.She heard Brodie chuckle behind her, but ignored it, and stepped out into sunlight to peer around the camp. Brodie had saidhe’d paid the MacGregors to camp here so she knew where she was. The MacGregor stronghold and land were on the northeast borderof Buchanan. She wasn’t that far from Buchanan keep if she could get loose and get her hands on a horse . . . Her gaze slidaround the camp again, and her mouth tightened as she noted the number of men moving about. Brodie had not brought a smallcontingent of soldiers with him. There were at least a hundred men that she could see, and every single one had turned topeer at her when she straightened in front of the tent flap.
Her mouth tightened at the leering looks sent her way. She could practically feel their anticipation of her “wedding night,”and Dwyn could only thank God that Geordie had married her first. Of course, that didn’t mean Brodie wouldn’t give her tohis men anyway when he learned he couldn’t marry her. But he wouldn’t do it in front of the priest, she was sure. Raisingher chin grimly, she started toward the priest standing by the fire.
“Ye’ve got balls, lass. I’ll give ye that,” Brodie growled, apparently impressed with her marching out to meet her fate.
“One o’ us should,” Dwyn shot back as he caught her arm and forced her to slow down and walk with him. She’d known he wouldn’thit her in front of the priest, but wasn’t terribly surprised when his fingers dug painfully into her arm in response to hersmart crack. She was surprised the bone didn’t snap under the viciousness of his grip though. Dear God, it hurt. But she suspected it would bethe least of her pains by the time Brodie was done with her.
“Lady Innes, Laird Brodie, come, please. I have other duties to see to,” the priest said, his gaze narrowing on her painedexpression and then shifting to Brodie’s grip on her arm. He frowned as he noted the way her skin had blanched around histhumb and fingers under the pressure, and opened his mouth to say something, but Brodie spoke first, cutting him off.
“O’ course, Father. We’re eager to be wed and would no’ hold ye up any longer than necessary,” Brodie said quickly, urgingDwyn the last ten feet to stand before him.
The priest noted the way Dwyn sneered at his suggestion that they were eager to wed, and frowned slightly. “Is aught amiss,Lady Innes?”
“Nay, Father Machar,” Brodie said for her. “Go ahead. Let’s get this done so we can celebrate this blessed union.”
Father Machar gave him a repressive look and said solemnly, “I asked Lady Innes.”
“It’s Lady Buchanan, Father,” Dwyn corrected him gently when the priest turned to her, and then announced, “I married GeordieBuchanan a month past.” She managed not to flinch as all hell broke out around her.
Chapter 16
“We shall have to keep ye guarded until we locate and capture the bastard,” Aulay announced. “I’ll—”
“Or,” Geordie interrupted, “we could use me as bait.”
“Brother,” Aulay began with a frown.
“He has Dwyn,” Geordie said sharply. “And the bastard’s clever. We had men searching Buchanan for weeks after the attack atthe waterfall and he managed somehow to stay hidden in the woods between here and there all that time, evading all of ourmen.”
Aulay’s eyebrows rose at the suggestion. “What makes ye think that?”
“Well, how the hell else did he ken to attack us there today?” he asked pointedly.
“That is a good point,” Aulay murmured thoughtfully.
Geordie was silent, his own mind mulling over what he’d just said. It was hard to believe that the Buchanan soldiers had misseda small group of men hiding in the Buchanan woods, let alone a larger one the size Katie had mentioned. Yet how else couldthey have known to be there today unless they’d been there all along? But if they’d been there all along, why hadn’t theyattacked him and Dwyn on the way to the waterfall? Why wait to attack them on the way back? And why kill Simon? He shook hishead. None of it made sense.
“Ye’re shaking yer head,” Aulay said quietly. “Like me, ye’ve suddenly realized something is no’ adding up.”
“Aye.” Geordie sighed the word, and raised a hand to run it through his hair, but paused as he recalled the linen bandageswrapping his head and the wound beneath them. Letting his hand drop, he scowled and said, “There is no way Buchanan soldierswould miss even one man on a horse in the woods, let alone a large group.”
“Nay,” Aulay agreed solemnly.
“So they were no’ there all this time?” James Innes asked with a frown.
“Nay,” Aulay assured him, and then glanced back to Geordie expectantly.
“Which means they were only there at that time because they knew I’d taken Dwyn to the waterfall and would be traveling thatpath to return,” Geordie reasoned. “They’d no’ be likely to risk getting that close to the keep otherwise.”
“Aye, they must have kenned ye had taken her there or were going to take her there and set themselves in the woods along thepath, ready to ride out and stop ye when ye rode past,” Aulay suggested. Geordie didn’t comment, but something still wasn’tright.
“And they mistook the
