“She will nae be lost,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with restrained emotion.
The image of Eloise, her laughter, her stubborn defiance, the warmth of her presence, flashed through his mind. It twisted something deep in his chest, fueling the fire that already raged within him.
“Nae to him,” he added, his tone hardening. Without another thought, he turned and left the chamber.
By the time he emerged outside, the castle yard had transformed into a flurry of motion. Horses were being saddled at speed, their restless stamping echoing against the walls. Men hurried, fastening armor, checking weapons, their voices overlapping in urgency. The sharp scent of leather and steel filled the air, mingling with the tension that hung thick as a storm. Callum stood near the center of it all, already armed, his presence commanding as he directed the men.
“Move!” Callum barked, pointing toward a line of mounted soldiers. “I want every blade sharpened and every man ready!”
He turned as James approached, his expression grim but resolute. “They’ll be ready within moments,” he said, stepping closer.
James nodded once, his gaze sweeping over the gathering force. “We ride to Drummond’s castle,” he announced loudly, his voice carrying across the courtyard. A murmur rippled through the men at the name.
“Drummond has taken Miss Eloise,” James continued, his tone dark with fury. The reaction was immediate, anger flared, voices rose, hands tightened around weapons.
“We will nae wait,” he said firmly. “We ride now, and we bring her back.”
A chorus of agreement followed, the men rallying under his command.
Callum stepped beside him, his eyes sharp. “Then we ride to war,” he said quietly.
James met his gaze, something fierce burning there. “Aye,” he replied. “To war.”
His horse was brought forward, and James mounted in one swift motion, settling into the saddle with ease. Around him, the men followed suit, the sound of hooves and shifting gear filling the air.
Callum swung onto his own horse, positioning himself at James’s side.
“We’ll take the east road,” James said, “Fastest path to Drummond’s lands.”
Callum gave a curt nod. “Then we waste nay time.”
He turned his horse toward the gates, lifting his voice once more. “Open them!” he commanded. The heavy gates creaked as they began to part, revealing the road beyond. The men fell into formation behind him, a line of steel and resolve. James gripped the reins tightly, his heart pounding with a singular, burning purpose.
Then he drove his heels into his horse, and they rode.
Hold on, Eloise. Me lass… me heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Eloise’s head throbbed as she stirred, the last traces of darkness clinging to her senses like a heavy fog. The air was colder here, damp and unfamiliar, carrying the faint scent of stone and neglect. She pushed herself upright, her hands trembling as memory came rushing back in jagged fragments.
The chamber was dim, lit only by a narrow slit of a window, and before she could gather herself fully, the door creaked open. A tall, gaunt figure stepped inside, his presence filling the room with an oppressive weight.
“Awake at last,” he said, his voice low and cruelly amused.
Eloise’s breath caught as she stared at him, revulsion twisting in her stomach.
“Laird Drummond,” she whispered.
He smiled then, though there was nothing kind in it, only cold satisfaction.
“Aye,” he said, stepping closer. “The very man ye thought to escape.”
Eloise forced herself to her feet, her heart pounding. “Let me go,” she demanded, lifting her chin despite the fear clawing at her. “Ye have nay right to keep me here.”
Drummond’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “Nay right?” he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “Ye humiliated me, lass.”
He took another step closer, looming over her. “I arrived at yer father’s house to claim me bride, only to find she had fled like a coward.”
