Arran heard the desperation in her voice, and he wasn’t unaffected. “Remove yer blade from me back, and I will hear ye out.”
Skye paused for only a second, knowing that her mother could not escape these three men. She stood a chance if she ran, but Helena was not fast enough. So, she stepped back from his broad, strong back and tried not to sound like she was begging.
“I’ll come with ye willingly if ye promise to take me maither back to our home in Braewall.”
“Nay, Skye!” Helena implored. “I willnae go along with this!” she said to Arran.
Skye stepped up to her mother and wrapped her arms around her. Arran wasn’t able to hear all the words she whispered in her ear, but he heard her promise to return someday.
He felt the love between mother and daughter, and his heart ached.
Colin stepped forward. “I’ll take her back, Laird MacArthur. Every man, woman, and child heared Lady Helena’s screams that last night he beat her. Aye, and I’ll put it about that she perished in the swamp.”
Skye regarded Colin steadily. “So, it was ye I heard in the corridor,” she said.
Colin dipped his head in acknowledgement. “And it was me that led the men about the castle until I kent ye’d made it to the forest wall. But then I had nay choice but to give the alarm that ye’d escaped.”
Skye knitted her brows for a moment. Then she asked the very question that was niggling at Arran. “Why?”
“Because me Aunt Mary is the head cook in the kitchen, and she’d told me plain I was to look the other way. She said it would go ill with me if I daenae. I daenae believin’ in it mind, but me maither always said that Aunt Mary had the sight. And because it wrung me heart sore to hear the lady cryin’ out.”
Arran did not ask why the young guard did not interfere. It would have meant his life had he touched his laird in any way, even if only to restrain him.
Lyle helped Helena, who’d started crying, up onto Colin’s horse and Colin climbed up behind her.
“Dinnae make me regret me decision, lass. I’m taking a risk by letting her go, ye ken?” Arran said gruffly.
He wondered if this act of mercy would prove to be a huge mistake if MacKeith discovered his trickery. He started to formulate a plausible story in his mind to tell Laird MacKeith, but Skye’s sobs pulled him out of his thoughts.
As she watched them ride away, tears streamed down her face, but once her mother was out of sight, she looked up at her captor with a glare that was an odd combination of anger and hopelessness.
Arran mounted his horse and reached down a hand to help her climb up.
She jutted her chin, her eyes flashing. “I’d rather nae,” she hissed.
“Well, ye cannae walk the entire distance, lass. That will take two days, maybe more.”
“Precisely,” she replied. “What makes ye think I want to get there any sooner than I have to?”
“And what makes ye think that ye have a say in the matter, Skye?” Arran retorted in a tone that gave her pause. “Either takeme hand, or I will throw ye belly down across me saddle. Either way, ye are mounting this horse now.”
CHAPTER THREE
Once Skye was in the saddle before him, Arran nudged his mount into a long, ground eating walk.
Terror clinched her gut; tears of frustration and anger welled up in her eyes. “Ye are a worthless brute, ye are!” she fumed. “I’m being taken from me home to be delivered to an even more worthless brute!” She paced back and forth in front of him. “And right now, that’s nae even me biggest fear!”
Arran frowned, confused. “And what would that be?” he asked.
Skye looked at him, her eyes wide as saucers. She swallowed hard before she spoke softly, “The marsh at night, the dark, the cold… and ye. Being alone with ye.”
Arran looked down at her. “I said I wouldnae hurt ye, Skye. And I willnae.”
Skye felt in her heart that he would never strike her, but there were other things to consider.
She twisted about to look up into his handsome face and said, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
Arran’s lips slowly curled into a smile, and his dark eyes bored into hers. His arm tightened about her ribs, drawing her close against him. She felt the heat of him, and his growing tension. She felt sure she knew what he had in mind.
