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She twisted, clawing through the hay for something to grasp, something for leverage so she could squirm out from under him and escape. But she couldn’t see anything. Nothing but the hay beneath her. Nothing but straw poking into her skin.
Don’t waste energy. That’s what Lachlan would say. And he was the soldier. He knew. Save energy for when she could truly escape.
Sloane stilled.
And started counting. One minute passed. Two. Four. Six. Ten. The nag kept at its fast trot hauling the wagon down the road. They would be a distance away from the village now. Too far to scream. Too far to outrun.
The man above her shifted, lifting himself to his knees.
She stayed splayed on her belly, frozen in place.
He removed his hand from her mouth and he grabbed her arm, yanking her to flip her over flat onto her back.
“Where did ye put the book, wench?” His cockney accent gave him away instantly. He wasn’t local. Not from Scottish lands. Hell. Falsted must have had these men following her.
She shook her head. “What book?”
His meaty paw clamped around her jaw, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her cheeks. “Don’t play dumb with me, bitch. We looked in yer room and it’s not to be found.”
Her blood crystallized in her veins. She’d been followed. Followed all this time.
Damn, Reiner was right.
Lord Falsted would just dispose of her once his greedy hands got a hold of that blasted book.
She shook her head, trying to wedge it backward into the hay and out of his grip. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Then ye best be telling Joe where to point the wagon to retrieve it, or it’s yer neck, wench.”
“I don’t have it.”
His fingers tightened on her face, making her teeth cut into her cheeks. “We saw ye looking at it in that drawing room at the inn back in Carlisle, so ye cin stop yer lyin’ now.”
“Fine. Fine.” She nodded the best she could with the clamp of his fingers tearing at her skin.
He loosened his hold on her cheeks.
Perfect.
Anything to draw these two brutes away from Reiner and Milly.
“I left it with a friend in Stirling.”
“Ye care to share that name with us?”
“I’ll not put him in danger.”
His hand flashed through the air, the slap striking her cheek. “Then ye’ll be coming with us to retrieve the book.”
She nodded, hoping she cowed adequately for him. The pain of the slap alone helped with that. She had no intention of letting these two drag her to Stirling, but the more docile and afraid they thought she was, the better.
The brute rocked back onto his heels and flipped to sit on his backside. His back propped against the side rails and he stretched his legs out long across the back of the wagon.
Sloane used the moment to scoot herself as far away from him as she could, shifting upright to see her surroundings. She could no longer see the village and there wasn’t another soul on the road. Alone with nothing but the misty moors surrounding them on both sides.
Her head snapped up.
Empty moors. Empty moors that shifted into bog-land.
