He waited as long as he could stand it, then took off for his horse and set out to look for her alone. He felt as good as new—thanks to her. He was sure of it.
Fool. Ye would think ye knew the difference between poison mushrooms and harmless ones.
The mushrooms he’d picked? Damnation! This was his fault. He shook his head at himself as it began to rain. He stopped and tried to think. She wasn’t lost. She could see the house from any vantage point. She wasn’t choosing not to go to him because she was afraid of his cousins. He would let no harm come to her, andshe was well aware of it. She was too afraid of being alone to be afraid of anything else. She likely had not made it out of the glen alone…
He gave his reins a hard flick and raced toward the nearest village.
Someone had taken her. They were going to wish they hadn’t. Kidnapping women to sell as slaves was forbidden throughout Lochaber. Thanks to Logan’s father, Constantine Cameron, driving out slave drivers, this region saw the end of the traders. That is, if they did not want to meet the Lochiel of Lochaber.
Someone had taken her. What would they do to her? Where had they taken her? Was he going the right way? Would he ever see her again?
He wanted to shout her name against the pelting rain. She hadn’t poisoned him. He’d poisoned himself. She was correct to call him a fool.
“Elspeth!”
He didn’t think she would answer. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t.
He drove his horse until he reached the village nearest Ben Nevis. No one stirred in the rain, but he went directly to the tavern.
He stepped inside and dripped water onto the floor. He raked his gaze over the few men sitting around drinking in the dim firelight.
“I’m lookin’ fer a woman.”
“Ain’t we all?” mumbled one man almost face down on his table.
“She has nae hair on her head,” Logan provided, then corrected himself. “Well, verra little.”
“What has she done that her hair is shorn?” asked a patron who squinted at him. He would provide no help, Logan thought in frustration.
“What do ye want her fer?” another man put to him, eyes narrowed, lips turned upward, exposing missing teeth.
“I need her to keep me from returnin’ here with my Cameron and MacDonald kinsmen to slaughter everyone ye know.”
The warning in his voice was unmistakable. The truth of his words chilled the accompanying silence.
“I saw a gel like that,” one of the patrons called out in a shaky voice. “Thought she was a ghost.”
Ghost, angel, faerie, it mattered not. It was her. “Where?”
The terrified man aimed his wide eyes toward the door. “Last I saw, she and her companions were headed north on Knight’s Road.”
“Companions?” Logan demanded.
“Aye. Two of them. A man and a lass. The man came later.”
“Come with me,” Logan warned him. “If ye are deceivin’ me, ye will die on that road.”
He took hold of the patron’s collar and pulled him outside.
Hold on, Miss Woodburn. I’m comin’.
Chapter Eleven
Elspeth opened hereyes and squinted up at the sky. One moment passed before a wave of fear washed over her. She had foolishly gone too far in her search for more herbs that would help heal Mr. Cameron. Had she fainted? Was his malady contagious?
She sat up slowly and rubbed her head, and then her eyes. Her heart paused in dread as she looked around.
She was surrounded by trees. She wasn’t familiar with all the landscape around the Cameron houses, but she couldn’t remember ever seeing this area.
