∞∞∞
Their going was slow due to the horse’s lameness, and Jennifer elected to walk in case her weight should make the mare worse. In truth, she had no idea where they were though she took comfort from the fact that she could still see the loch in the distance. Her captor had tied her right hand to the pommel, even thought she’d protested it wasn’t necessary – she didn’t think the pounding in her head would allow her to run far, despite her earlier avowal to escape. All she could do was keep her wits about her and look for an opportunity to somehow disable the footman.
Eventually, the faint track they were following turned back towards Loch Lomond and even knowing they must be nearing his Clan home, Jennifer breathed a sigh of relief. Especially as a sudden thought struck her. If they got close enough, could she jump into the loch? Despite the shock of her earlier unexpected dip, she was a proficient swimmer after spending most of her childhood summers splashing about in the lake at Blackmore.
If she jumped into the loch, would he come after her? Could he even swim?
Jennifer knew her idea was totty headed, but she could see no other way. Desperately, she watched for signs they were getting closer to the loch and minutes later was certain the body of water was getting nearer. She looked down at her riding habit. She wouldn’t be able to swim wearing so many clothes. Her thoughts unexpectedly conjured up her first meeting withBrendon Galbraith and she gave an inward chuckle as his withering comment about her weight came back to her. She wondered where he was. Whether he and Malcolm were even now going after the children.
She still had no idea of the time, but the sun was no longer high in the sky. Soon the midges would be abroad and then their progress would be truly miserable. Indeed, she realised her silent captor was increasing his pace. Pushing down her rising anxiety, she began surreptitiously easing her hand this way and that, trying to loosen the rope securing it. With her other, unbound hand, she began carefully unbuttoning her riding jacket.
She needed to buy Brendon and Malcolm enough time to rescue the children and get them away from MacFarlane land, and though the thought terrified her, she knew that jumping into the loch might do exactly that.
∞∞∞
Getting the children out of the quarry was slow going. Despite their obvious relief at being out of the underground cell, they were clearly terrified. Some were crying – silent sobs that cut both men’s hearts. But neither Brendon nor Malcolm dared spend too much time reassuring them. The clock was ticking, and they needed to be away from MacFarlane land as quickly as possible. Time enough for assurance once they were back at Caerlaverock.
The little girl who’d hurt her leg was riding on Brendon’s back. In truth he hardly felt her weight and the feel of her small arms around his neck, her head nestling into his shoulder prompted emotions he’d never thought to have. Silently he vowed that somehow he would take care of all these children. None of them would ever have to suffer at the hands of such evil again.
Finally, they broke free of the trees and came within sight ofInveruglas. ‘Can you see any sign of Augustus and Dougal?’ Malcolm asked, his eyesight not as good as the much younger man’s.
Brendon stared for a moment, then shook his head. ‘Hopefully they’ll be off the island by noo. Fergus’ll be watching fer ‘em.’
‘I bloody hope so. We cannae afford to wait fer long. Can we get all the bairns in one boat dae ye think?’
Brendon grimaced. ‘Ah doot it.’ He gave a loud whistle before lifting his small cargo off his back and handing her over to Malcolm. Minutes later the children cried out in fear at the sight of a large animal streaking towards them. Turning towards the panicking youngsters, Dougal held up a calming hand. ‘Dinnae fash yerselves,’ he soothed. ‘It be ma dog, Fergus. The worst he’ll dae be tae lick ye tae death.’
Within seconds the wolfhound was capering around his master’s ankles like a puppy. Crouching down, Brendon threw his arms around the delighted dog’s neck and ruffled his fur before finally taking hold of his collar and looking into the hound’s intelligent eyes. ‘Find Dougal,’ he instructed. Fergus wagged his tail, gave his master one last lick and took off back the way he’d come.
Following in the same direction, Brendon and Malcolm began ushering the children along as swiftly as possible. They were now in the open and in danger of being spotted by MacFarlane’s men. The bairns had fallen silent, and the two men glanced at each other, fearing shock was beginning to set in.
The closer they got to the MacFarlane’s boat, the more anxious both men became. What had seemed like a foolproof plan earlier, now seemed like the idea of a pair of idiots. The chances that any of the children could swim were slim at best. If either boat capsized, they would be lost.
Suddenly, when they were about fifty yards away from thesmall jetty, Fergus gave an excited bark, and Brendon felt relief overwhelm him. ‘He’s found them,’ the steward told Malcolm. A couple of seconds later they both heard a loud voice declare, ‘I’ve already had one deuced wash. Can you not teach this mongrel some manners?’
∞∞∞
By the time Peter reached the derelict croft, he was beginning to despair of finding any sign that his sister had come this way. And truly, if she’d been bacon-brained enough to leave the track for the open moor…No, he wouldn’t even consider it. Jennifer was headstrong but not stupid.
Dismounting, the Viscount stared up at the cottage’s faceless windows with a frown. It had clearly been abandoned by whoever lived there, and if Jennifer had been here, she certainly wasn’t here now.
Tying up his horse, he opened the gate and looked around – for what, he wasn’t certain – but after a few seconds he spied a small log on the ground. Something about it didn’t sit right. What was it doing there right in front of the gate? There were no other pieces of wood in the vicinity. Biting his lip, Peter crouched down and picked it up. As he examined it, a sick feeling of dread blossomed in his stomach. On the end of the log were strands of hair exactly the colour of his sister’s. They were stuck to the wood with what he feared was dried blood.
Tossing the log into the undergrowth, Peter sat back on his heels, willing his heart to slow down. Swallowing, he scanned the area more carefully, eventually catching sight of a small scrap of satin caught on a bush. Climbing to his feet, the Viscount took hold of the fragment which revealed itself to be a length of ribbon exactly the same as the one Jennifer was wearing when he last saw her.
Fighting panic, he stepped away from the gate and looked more closely at the ground. Recent hoofprints showed a horse had been here within the last few hours. The prints led around the cottage and up onto the highland.
Someone had taken his sister.
∞∞∞
Getting the children onto the two boats proved more challenging than anything they’d done so far. Their fear that the bairns couldn’t swim was borne out when, frail as they were, nearly all fought and kicked to stay on dry land, though the effort left them exhausted.
Malcolm shook his head. ‘They cannae walk back. It’s too far, and while it looks as though the MacFarlane is going to be busy come the morn, we cannae guarantee some of his warriors willnae come after us.’
‘Why will the MacFarlane be busy?’ asked Dougal narrowing his eyes. ‘Ye hae nae told us what happened when ye took the bairns.’
‘That’s a tale fer when we’re all home and safe,’ Brendon insisted. ‘Right noo, we have tae get these bairns onto those two boats.’
