Owen faced the other men. "Chief MacKerrick,"he called.
"What is it now?" Dugald snarled from fiftyfeet away.
"The lady says she is hungry."
"We're all hungry. She'll just have to waituntil we find some food. We have none with us."
MacKerrick? She had never heard of this clan.They must live far from Draughon.
Owen whistled and the chestnut-colored horsetrotted toward him. He dug into his saddlebag, pulled out somethingenfolded in a cloth and offered it to her.
"What is this?" she asked, unwrapping it. "Abannock?"
"Aye, m'lady." Owen smiled, putting her atease somewhat. He seemed genuinely friendly.
The oatcake looked clean enough, and she bitinto it. It was growing stale but she could tolerate it. Herstomach was grumbling something fierce. "Merci beaucoup,Owen. You are a gentleman. Dugald is not."
Blushing, he lifted his brows and cast acautious glance at Dugald, no doubt surprised she would call hisillustrious chief by his given name and insult him so.
"Is he as savage as he appears?" Camilleasked.
Owen shook his head. "He's a strong and justchief. We're very loyal to him."
"Hmph. I have no idea why. How could hesimply snatch up a woman and ride off with her? Without even askingwho she is?"
Looking troubled, Owen shrugged.
"His poor wife—how I pity the woman," shesaid between bites.
"The chief is nay married, m'lady."
Unbidden, a tiny thrill of excitement spunthrough her. Camille did not know why she was happy to hear Dugaldwas a bachelor. Had being abducted made her a prime candidate forBedlam? "I can see why. He has not the least bit of charm."
Owen cut another nervous glance toward thearea where his chief had disappeared.
Nonchalantly, Camille regarded Owen's horse,a tall gelding, and the empty saddle, a plan forming in her mind.The horse was taller and brawnier than the mares she usually rode,but in France, she had ridden all types and sizes of horses. Shedid indeed love riding, and knew she had above average skill atit.
After quickly devouring the last bite ofbannock, she drank from the wineskin again. Two sips and it wasempty… all part of her plan.
"Do you think one of the other men might havemore wine?" she asked.
Owen frowned. "You drank all of mine?"
"Oui, I fear I did. I hope you canforgive me, but there wasn't much of it."
He glanced about, then headed toward hiscomrade several yards away.
This was her chance to escape the ruffians.The boost of excitement making her bold, Camille grasped the saddlewith both hands, put her foot in the stirrup and dragged herselfastride the massive chestnut gelding. Taking the reins loosely inhand, she kicked the horse into motion. He neighed and took off ata swift gallop. Her heart pounding madly as she raced across themoor, she lowered herself over his blowing mane. How she loved thefeel of the wind in her face. Freedom! Some of her earliestmemories involved racing her pony across the sunny, green pasturesof France.Oui!She was in her element now and flying fromDugald's grasping hold.
Yells echoed behind her. She glanced back.Sacrebleu! Dugald was leaping onto his stallion.
Chapter Four
Camille tightened her legs around the horsebeneath her, urging him into a faster gallop, heading back the waythey'd come—toward Perth, she hoped. She was glad she had stayed inpractice for riding, having exercised her own mare all spring,along with Angelique's two white mares. Since her cousin was withchild, Lachlan would not allow her near the horses. Though thisgelding was bigger than the mares, Camille had no troublecontrolling him.
Moments later, horses' hooves pounded behindher. She glanced back to see Dugald and three of his men gainingground. He looked like a demon riding to capture her, low over thehorse's neck, his black hair flying back, eyes narrowed indetermination. Fear and excitement raced through her, speeding herheart rate. What would he do to her when he caught her? Hating toeven imagine it, she kicked the horse to a faster pace.
The small river they had recently passedthrough lay ahead. Although the horses had walked through itearlier, she had no time to slow down. The stream was notexcessively wide, about fifteen feet. If the horse beneath hercould jump it, she would be closer to escaping the fiendish chief.She glanced back to find him gaining ground.
