Page 49 of Sins of the Highlander

“Will ye take the tiller?” he asked Elspeth.

She nodded and moved unsteadily to replace him.

As he fairly leaped toward the prow, Rob realized a minor miracle had just occurred.

Elspeth Stewart had chosen to stay with him of her own accord.

***

“Pull, damn ye!” Lachlan roared to the man on the raft with him.

After several trials earlier that day, it had been determined that only two could fit on the raft, so Drummond insisted it be he and his retainer.

“I’m her father,” Stewart had protested.

“Aye, and I’m the man who will be her husband even after this sorry business is ended,” he said. “Ye must allow me a husband’s vengeance on Mad Rob.”

Alistair Stewart had relented then, tacitly admitting that his daughter was likely no longer pure.

“I understand ye wanting to let your sword drink the man’s blood.”

But Lachlan had no intention of letting matters progress as far as hand-to-hand combat. He had his crossbow, and he intended to use it.

It was near the darkest part of the night, but Lachlan had already identified the figures on the boat based on their relative size. He was close enough now to see that MacLaren was working his way toward the prow. The other fellow, a monstrous big man, was already there, trying to wrench their boat free. Lachlan sited his bolt on Rob’s moving form.

“Rob!” The warning shout came from Elspeth.

The MacLaren ducked, and Drummond’s bolt flew harmlessly over his head.

Lachlan glared at the dark form that was his betrothed. How had she seen what was coming so easily? She must be cat-eyed as a witch! She even seemed to be helping her captors by holding the tiller steady.

That was all the proof he needed that Rob MacLaren had taken her. If a man ruts a woman soundly enough, she’ll do whatever he demands, biddable as a lamb.

The MacLaren’s wife hadn’t, of course, but she was a rarity. And to be fair, Lachlan hadn’t realized who she was when he and his men first scooped her up. Who could blame them? Ladies didn’t wander the countryside unescorted.

By the time he realized her identity, the damage was done. Who’d have thought she’d leap to her death rather than continue to service him? When she fought him just as hard the second time, he should have given Lady MacLaren to his men to pass around instead of leaving her in the tower to think better of her belligerence.

Damned if he’d let Elspeth Stewart behave so willfully.

“Stupid bitch.” He’d teach her who her laird was as soon as he got her back. There were few things more enjoyable than reducing a woman to quivering subservience.

He might even get out the shackles and birch switch for his wayward little wife, just to make sure she understood the way of things.

But first he had to get her back. He raised his crossbow and targeted Mad Rob as he reached the prow, but he hadn’t reckoned on the pitching loch throwing his aim off. Even aiming a bit high for the distance, the bolt struck wood and quivered in the hull.

“Pull faster,” Drummond ordered his man.

The raft drew ever closer to the boat. He might yet have to draw his blade. Then he heard some feral growls and saw a huge deerhound standing with its feet on the gunwale of the small craft. Those slashing teeth were a distraction he didn’t need if he was going to have to cross swords in close quarters with the MacLaren.

He loaded his crossbow once more and sited it on the dog’s chest. He squeezed the trigger, and the iron shaft flew.

Elspeth cried out and leaped from her place at the tiller, putting herself in the path of the bolt. This one struck true, and she went down. Lachlan couldn’t see her any longer because she was below the gunwale. The hound bayed and circled where she fell.

The stern of the boat swung wide, obscuring any possible shot at the men in the prow, and the rope Lachlan’s man was hauling on went suddenly slack in his hands. MacLaren had cut the line.

Wind filled the boat’s sails. The loch lifted the craft on the waves and propelled it westward too quickly for Drummond to get off another shot.

The last thing he saw was the MacLaren kneeling where Elspeth fell as the other fellow put a hand to the tiller.