He, on the other hand, walked easily, and the sight offended her even more. Her legs quivered, but she maintained her balance, refusing to give him any more reason to laugh at her.
She couldn’t help but remember how he had laughed at her muttered promise to escape.
“I would enjoy seeing ye try.”
The memory made her shiver.
Looking around the unfamiliar camp, she realized why he had found it humorous. The roads leading into the camp were winding and thoroughly unfamiliar, and with the dense foliage that ringed them, it was clear no one would stray this far into unfamiliar woods.
Her cowardly father and fiancé would certainly not risk their lives coming this far for her, not when they hadn’t even been able to stand up to her kidnapper in their own land.
She stood, unsure what to do as the men got to work around her immediately. She noticed grimly that she was the only woman in the camp, and with no real benefit to the group, they went about their work with practiced efficiency, ignoring her. She wrapped an arm around her middle, trying to keep her rising anxiety at bay.
“Dae ye intend to stand there all day?”
The question made her whirl around. She hadn’t even heard him move or sensed him standing behind her.
The Scotsman stood there, staring down at her with a blank look.
“You seem to forget you kidnapped me, so I have absolutely nothing to do but stand here,” she scoffed, folding her arms.
He sighed and shook his head, pointing towards a fallen log. “Go and sit there,” he ordered. “Food will be served soon.”
“How can I trust that you won’t poison me?” she asked with a glare.
“If I wanted to get rid of ye, lass, I wouldnae have bothered bringing ye all this way here,” he answered, turning away from her. “And I wouldnae use poison.”
With those words, he strode away, leaving the decision of sitting or standing up to her.
What an annoying man!
She went to sit nonetheless.
Soon after, she was joined by another tall Scotsman, but in contrast to the grumpy Laird, he had a broad grin on his face.
“Do forgive the Laird his terrible manners, miss,” he said with a warm smile. “He doesnae like to talk much.”
“That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be polite,” she pointed out, pouting.
“Trust me, I’ve tried tellin’ him that,” he chuckled.
She found herself smiling back despite herself.
Perhaps her exhaustion with the day’s events had her desperate for some degree of comfort in any way she could get it.
“I am Logan Reily,” he offered. “The Laird’s man-at-arms.”
“Violet Wilkinson,” she returned.
“A pleasure to meet ye, miss,” Logan said with a mock bow.
She found his mannerisms almost delightful, but in her predicament, she couldn’t afford to let down her guard. He was trying to make her comfortable, an action she was truly grateful for. Unlike the man responsible for her ordeal, who was hell-bent on ignoring her. He hadn’t even looked at her since he had pointed at the log, which she was now sitting on.
Damned brigand.
“Ye’re glaring hard at the Laird like ye have plans to hit him,” Logan noted, humor lacing his voice. “May I ask why?”
“He kidnapped me and now ignores my existence like I’m nothing more than an inconvenience he is saddled with,” she huffed. “Of course I want to hit him.”
