“I very much doubt it. Which direction did it take?”
But Brodie just shook his head. “I…I never stayed to look, my lord. I was needed inside, and I didn’t think it mattered.”
Niall took a deep breath. “So Heather has been kidnapped. And we’ve got no clue where he took her.”
From Brodie’s account, it sounded as if the carriage had an hour’s head start on them. But even if Webb pushed the driver to hurry, a carriage was unlikely to outpace a determined single rider. And the roads in this area tended to be narrow. There were not many that a carriage could take, and even fewer that it could take at speed.
Rob was the best rider of them all, so he volunteered to take the high road that went south, it being the most likely route that Webb took. He borrowed Ian’s pistol, promising that once he caught up to the carriage, he wouldn’t let it out of his sight.
“And if he’s hurt our sister, I might misplace a few of these bullets in his stupid heid,” he swore. Then he signaled the horse and was off.
“Don’t worry, he’ll overtake any carriage on the highway,” Ian told a very worried Niall.
“But what if they’re not on the highway?” Niall asked. “There’s more than one way in and out of town.”
“Then we ask around. Spend ten minutes here, and we may save hours chasing false trails.”
The two did so, splitting up to east and west. Niall rode to the edge of the village, stopping at the door of the shoemaker whose business stood at the end of the main street.
When Niall walked in, both the master and his apprentice daughter stopped and looked up from their work.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” the man said, giving a respectful little bow. “What might we do for you?”
“Did you happen to see any carriage ride past here about an hour ago?”
The man glanced at his daughter, who shook her head. “Can’t say that we have, my lord. Our work keeps our eyes to the bench, not out the window.”
“But you ought to ask Gregor, that’s the chandler’s boy,” the daughter added. “He works outside when dipping, and he notices what goes on.”
Niall nodded thanks and crossed the street to the chandler’s. The workshop door was wide open, and two figures were hanging pairs of dipped tapers to dry and harden. It was the end of the day, and several wooden rods were now supporting the candles made so far. The scent of beeswax and tallow filled the air.
“Who’s Gregor?”
“I am, my Lord MacNair,” one young man replied warily.
Niall repeated his question about the carriage and was rewarded with a flash of recognition in the other’s eyes.
“Oh, aye, the one with the matching chestnuts. Saw it come by just after the church bells rang four. Headed west and turned left at the fork.”
“Thank you,” Niall said in a rush. He fished out a coin. “Run and find my brother Ian. Tell him I’m going that way, and he’s to follow.”
Niall couldn’t wait for Ian himself. He hurried back to his horse. The left turning was the more used branch, but Niall had a hunch where the carriage was headed.
Riding out of the village, he pushed the horse’s pace as much as he dared. When the road forked again, he chose the route to the harbor, praying he was right.
The light was turning golden when Niall reached the harbor. It was nestled in a narrow but deep bay, and the sun had already sunk into the notch between the hills, sending beams skittering over the water, turning the surface into a sea of glittering amber.
Outlined against the stunning backdrop were a few small fishing boats, and one bigger ship with its sails unfurled.
At the far end of the quay was a carriage with two matched chestnuts. Niall galloped onward, squinting to the sun. Yes, on the deck of the ship, there were a number of moving figures, including a woman in a green gown.
Heather.
Once the ship set sail, there was nothing Niall could do. He had to get on board, now.
Webb spotted him by the time he brought his horse to skidding halt, and was screaming at the crew. “Get moving, you idiots! Don’t let him board! You there, take her below!”
A burly sailor took hold of Heather, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, but she promptly bent her head and bit him, causing him to step away, swearing.
