The fact that she had no weapon to defend herself with was something she decided to take care of at the first opportunity. Unfortunately, they didn’t stop at an inn that night where she might have been able to obtain a dagger, but rather in the woods with the sounds of unfamiliar animals howling in the distance.
She lay flat on her back, fully clothed, in the bottom of the cramped carriage. Heavy curtains covered the windows. Earlier, the men said they would be sleeping on the ground outside and assured her she would be well protected.
However, sleep was not on their minds. They were deep in their cups, talking loudly. The strains of Andrew’s poorly played whistle permeated her little space. A lone howl pierced the night and the abrupt silence told her they listened as well. That was the last thought she had before falling into a deep sleep.
The tempting smell of the fire and the promise of food awoke her with a start. She found the curtains were pulled back all around her. A strange feeling that someone had been watching her slithered up her spine. Glancing down at herself, she was relieved to find nothing out of place except for the tight cap that had slipped off her head. The wimple lay in a crumpled ball at her side. Her long, thick hair fell in disarray around her. She sat up and shoved her hair back into the little hat. The carriage rocked beneath her with each movement.
“’Bout time you woke up, lady.” It was the bald man—Andrew.
She swallowed a sarcastic retort and said, “I’m sorry if I overslept. You could have awakened me.”
The looks they all exchanged with little knowing smiles startled her. The vaguest memory of a dream flooded her thoughts where she had been stroked and touched by the same unimaginable creatures she’d heard in the night. No. She’d slept like the dead except for those dreams. It was the seasickness, draining her to the point that almost anything could have happened and she wouldn’t have known.
She finished tucking her hair up before facing them again. Ivan caught her eye and winked. The other men laughed, sheepishly glancing her way.
It was not safe for her to be the only woman with these men, none of which were a relative of hers. Her brother would never have allowed it. Her father would never have allowed it. Her uncle could apparently care less. He’d even taken offense at her questioning if she was being protected. These three did not appear to value her as one that should be well-cared for.
Ivan had insisted she was not “the treasured, virginal sacrifice.” Flashes of a memory, of rough hands on her. Of low moans of pleasure. No, that couldn’t be what happened. She would have awakened had anyone touched her person. Surely. Tadhg had assured her it would take less than a fortnight to get to the Priory and learn her fate. That seemed a very long time.
The days dragged by with Brighit confined inside the carriage. They traveled by way of the Great North Road along the River Wharfe. She was kept inside the carriage with the windows covered. She didn’t mind the added warmth, or not seeing where they traveled, or protection from prying eyes but she didn’t dare ask any question. Instead she listened.
The men talked to each other in low tones. They took turns driving the carriage and, on occasion, one of the men would ride with her. Never as a companionable guest but more like a stiff-mouthed guard. By the fourth day, Brighit discerned that the timing of these visits coincided with her guides being joined by other travelers. It was almost as if the men were ensuring she did not call attention to herself. Then their voices would be loud, friendly.
This realization stoked her rebellious spirit. Were the other travelers a threat to her? Or was it more likely that part of her “protection” was making sure no one saw her? She doubted other travelers cared about her one way or another. Irritation rose, making her itch to show some type of defiance to this predicament.
Andrew sat across from her, using his dagger to clean his teeth after their midday repast. She glanced out the window. Three unknown men now rode abreast of Ivan. As different as three men could be, one had a long, dark hair and a big smile. Another was fair-haired and shorter than his companions. The last man had the red hair of the northerners—a Scot. They were having a lively conversation with Ivan and Cole, who was driving the carriage. She cleared her throat.
“Ivan.” She stuck her head out the small opening before Andrew could react. “I need to see to nature’s call.”
Andrew leaned forward, his hands flexing at his side, but stopped short of pulling her out of the opening. She leaned back against the wooden seat and smiled sweetly. He growled and tapped the side of the carriage to signal Cole to stop.
Ivan and the other men did the same a short distance away. She jumped from the carriage and the jaws of the three visitors dropped at the sight. Apparently other travelers may indeed have some interest in her.
“Gentlemen,” Brighit said, tipping her chin in acknowledgement before heading toward the side of the road. She paused. They were in an open field without so much as a bush to hide behind. Brighit squared her shoulders and headed to the right of the road.
“Hold!” One of the three men dropped from his horse and ran to her. “Might I assist you? There is a small area to this side of the road just a ways.”
It was the man with black hair and a beguiling smile. He had bright, green eyes. He took her elbow, directing her the opposite way from which she had been heading.
Brighit exhaled her relief. “My thanks, uh—.”
“Lachlann,” he offered and bowed most gallantly. “My pleasure to assist such a bonny lass.”
Ivan stomped toward them. “Unhand her.” He took her arm out of his hold, jerking her against him. He pierced her with his gaze. “What game are you playing at?”
Lachlann stepped away, a bewildered look on his face. Brighit’s insides recoiled.
“I nee—need to relieve myself.” Her voice quivered, unsure whether Ivan would take her up on his threat now that she’d apparently overstepped her bounds.
“What is amiss?” Lachlann’s eyes rounded in concern.
Ivan smiled at the man. “My apologies.”
“Ivan!” Cole’s voice bellowed. “We stop here for the night.”
Ivan turned back toward her, his lips curled into a tight snicker. “You will obey me.” The words were whispered, so Brighit doubted even Lachlann, who stood beside her, could hear him. “Do you comprehend me well enough now?”
Fear flashed through her. His grip tightened on her arm. “I do not know what I have done to anger you so.”
