Page 69 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

They cannae have gotten far.

Taking off, Cameron ran toward the gardens. Using the years of visiting his cousin to his advantage, he checked each place someone could be tucked away. There was nothing there, no one. Not even a couple that had snuck away for a moment alone beneath the clear, starry sky.

“Bastards,” he cursed as he stepped out near the stables.

There was still no sign of anyone else. It seemed the ceilidh had drained the energy of everyone in the Carrick. With a sickening sense of fury, Cameron realized this had been planned. Somehow, someone had gotten wind of the ceilidh and reported it to Lord Abbott. Or, more likely, the man had been watching them all along, scheming and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Then, just as Cameron was beginning to consider burning the whole of the Highlands down to find Margo, a groom came running out of the stables, waving his hands wildly when he spotted Cameron.

“Me Laird!” he said, his voice carrying over the quiet evening. “I have just spotted a carriage I daenae recognize leavin’ the grounds. I was comin’ to report it to Laird Carrick.”

Cameron’s focus sharpened; a blade that had finally been given a direction to point. “Where?” he demanded. “Which direction are they goin’?”

“To the south,” the boy said. He pointed back at the stables. “There is a horse that is already prepared. The stableboy is preparin’ others.”

Cameron grunted, already running toward the stables. If they were travelling by carriage, they would not be able to go fast. He could catch up before they even left the Carrick lands.

He willnae take me wife away!

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“Nay!” Cameron roared, digging his heels into the horse’s sides. The creature seemed to be hesitant to ride as hard as his own steed. “Faster! We cannae let them get away!”

They tore down the well-trodden dirt path. It was the only one wide enough to accommodate a carriage. Cameron doubted Lord Abbott was foolish enough to try riding through the woods. More than likely, he thought that he had executed the perfect extraction.

Cocky bastard. He believes he has already gotten away with this.

As he rounded a corner, his horse’s body getting low to maintain traction, he spotted a carriage in the distance. It was moving much faster than was safe, and it was flanked by two men on brilliant, white horses. There was no question about who was riding inside.

Pushing the horse as hard as he dared, Cameron began to close the distance. His hands tightened on the reins, the leather digging into his palms. The guards ahead yelled something at one another. They had seen him, and they were preparing for his approach.

They daenae ken who they’re challenging.

As soon as Cameron was within striking distance, the door at the back of the carriage flew open, and Margo’s determined, flushed face appeared. She scrambled onto the platform, holding tight to the railing. Lord Abbott came out after her, wearing his fury on all of his features.

As he threw an arm around Margo’s waist, the carriage rocked precariously. He did not seem frightened by it, rather further enraged. Then, Lord Abbott spotted Cameron’s fast approach, and his lips curled into something disgustingly sinister.

“Sign the papers, boy!” Lord Abbott called, yanking Margo against his chest, causing her to squeak with discomfort. “You are making things much harder than they need to be!”

“Return me wife at once!” Cameron yelled, ignoring the command, and pulled his sword from its sheath, riding toward the closest guard.

Though he was outnumbered, Cameron would not let himself be stopped nor deterred. He would sooner die fighting to get Margo back than give up. Besides, one look at these men was enough to know they had not seen real combat a day in their lives.

As Cameron brought down his weapon, his horse spooked, rearing back and nearly throwing him to the ground. They came to a harsh, skidding halt, his sword clattering to the ground as he held onto the reins, his thighs tightening around the animal’s body. He cursed under his breath, patting the horse’s neck to calm her down as the caravan continued forward. Margo was yanked back inside, and the carriage surged forward even faster.

“I cannae catch them, nay on ye,” he growled, forcing himself to stay still as the horse fidgeted, still uneasy.

He could not go after them on this animal. She was not trained for battle. Even if he were to keep up with the fleeing party, there was no guarantee she would not try to throw him off once more.

He needed reinforcements, a better horse, more time.

Knocking his heel against the beast’s side when she was steady enough to move again, Cameron poised himself to tear back to the castle. At a pace much too leisurely for the kind of hell he was going through, the same solicitor from earlier rode toward him. He raised his hand in a lazy wave.

“If you are ready to sign the contract, I will ride back to the castle with you,” he said, sounding like a man who had already won.

I wonder how much money he was promised. And if he kens that Lord Abbott willnae make good on his end of the deal.

“I willnae sign yer damned contract. I willnae sign away Margo’s inheritance, nor me future heir’s inheritance. I willnae live beneath Abbott’s boot for the rest of me life,” Cameron roared, urging his horse into a gallop. Yelling, making it known to the entire forest, he cried, “And I’m nay losin’ her, either!”