What was she going to do?
If they would but allow her to speak, shewould tell them who she was! Or if she could reach her calf, shewould pull out her small dagger and stableconnard.
She could not believe a true chief could beso loutish. Her cousin was married to a chief who was far morecivil, although equally large and commanding.
"Bring my horse!" Dugald ordered his minions.One of them rushed to do his bidding. When the huge, snorting beaststood beside them, he mounted. "Wrap her cloak around her and handher up to me."
One of his guards did as he asked, enfoldingher black woolen cloak so tightly around her she could hardly move,then lifted her to the saddle in front of the barbarian. Sittingsideways, she smashed her head into his rock-hard chin.Ouch!She feared it hurt her more than it had him.
He growled a curse. "Be still, wench, and Iwon't hurt you." He tugged her tightly against his solid chest.
Wench?
Her ankles tied together, she kicked herheels against his solid calf, but he must not have even felt it,for he made no comment, not even a grunt.
They galloped away upon the massive horse andleft the town behind, his men following.
Holy Mother Mary, what was she going to do?Tears burned her eyes and the chill, early morning wind stung them.Her captor had mentioned something about getting his dagger back.Hopefully that meant they wouldn't kill her. But who knew if theywould hurt her or torture her for information she didn't have?
Angelique would be terribly worried whenCamille didn't return from her shopping excursion. Camille hadbrought two maidservants with her, along with a coach driver and aguard. No one had expected trouble. Certainly not her. She was notitled lady. Her father had provided her a generous inheritance,though it was not nearly enough for her to be considered anheiress.
If Dugald hadn't tied a gag in her mouth, shewould've told him she wasn't a chief's wife. He would likely befurious when he learned the truth. Would he take it out on her?Beat her?
The Highlanders rode harder than she had everridden in her life. The giant beasts beneath them obviously hadtremendous endurance, for they tore across the fields and moorsbetween the hills.
She had been this far north only once before,late last fall, when the weather had taken on the chill of winterearly and snow had greeted them when they'd arrived at theirdestination. Now, in early June, the colors were so different.Though the wind was still cold, the hillsides were swathed in greenvelvety grass. But she had no time to appreciate the scenic beauty,for it passed in a blur as Dugald's horse sped along the muddytrails.
The gag was all that kept her teeth fromsnapping together during the rough ride. Finally, the men slowedtheir horses to a trot, but kept going.
A couple of times, they stopped only longenough for the horses to drink water, before continuing on.
Camille tried to memorize their surroundings,but soon the mountains, hills and moors all ran together. She washopelessly lost in the Highlands. How on earth would she get backto Perth, or her home at Draughon?
Chapter Three
As the hours wore on, they continued ridingnorth and Camille's mind grew numb, as did her bound hands andfeet. She sat across Dugald's lap upon the horse, but he neverseemed to tire as she did. When she chanced to look up at him, hiseyes were as hard as jade… and so were his muscles. Although shetried to ignore everything about him, she could not help but noticehis profoundly masculine scent. It teased at her woman's senses,maddening her, for she wanted to press her nose against his throatand inhale him, while at the same time, she dreamed of smashing hisnose again.
Near midday, they stopped near a loch, thankthe saints.
After dismounting, Dugald lifted her downfrom the saddle. She sent a caustic glare up into his eyes. Hemight be as handsome as the devil, but he was also just asfiendish. How could he keep her bound and gagged so long?
She glanced around, seeing only lonelyverdant countryside. No villages or cottages.
"I'm going to cut the rope off your ankles,"Dugald said.
She would be thankful for that, at least. Herlegs were cramping and stiff from lack of movement. She nodded.
"Don't you dare kick me again," he warned.His nose looked a wee bit red where she'd kicked it earlier but notswollen. Blast! It wasn't broken.
Batting her lashes in faux flirtation, sheshook her head innocently.
He narrowed his eyes. Indeed his glare wasfierce, but something in her refused to fear him. Her woman'sinstincts told her he had a good heart beneath all the bluster. Hewas not the least bit like any of the murderous fiends she'd hadrun-ins with in the past.
She stood still while he cut the rope anddidn't even attempt to kick him. She could be ladylike when shewanted.
Glancing around, she wondered if she mightmake a run for it and hide from them. But where? Only a few hidingplaces existed on this broad moor—a grove of yellow-flowered gorsebushes, and he would find her soon enough in there. Though Perthwas far behind them and she was unsure how to find it, she wouldmake an attempt, given the opportunity. She would have to steal oneof their mounts. But at the moment, the horses were busydrinking.
"Do not even consider running." Dugaldwatched her intently. "I could catch you like that." He snapped hisfingers.
