CHAPTER ONE
May, 1720
Somewhere in Scotland
Lady Elsie Montgomery groaned, the burning of rough hemp against her skin, biting in, leaving her delicate wrists raw. She had lost count of how many hours she had been working to free herself, to no avail. But she kept trying, because to stop would be giving up, and Elsie refused to give up. She had simply never been very good at surrender.
The air in the carriage, which truthfully, was more of a rickety wagon, was damp and dank, filling her nose with the scents of horse sweat and damp wool. Every jolt over the uneven road sent ropes of pain through her arms as she worked the knots behind her back.
She was very hungry and knew not where her captors were taking her. Every move was made under the cover of darkness,and as this was her first foray into the Scottish Highlands, she had no earthly idea where they were. Though she knew they had crossed water at some point in night.
She winced from the sharp jolt of the wagon.
Luckily, an opportunity had fallen into her lap, in the form of a small metal pin. The road she had cursed so much during her ordeal, had provided that small gift. She had no idea what the pin had been holding together, but when it dropped into her skirts, she sent a prayer up.
The wagon creaked forward and her captors laughed when Elsie could not hold in a sob. They mistook her pain for weakness., but she was no wilting English rose, especially not in the face of the fools who managed to get the best of her, not by a longshot.
“Dinnae fash, lass,” one of the men croaked through his mirth. “We’ll be nearin’ Inverarish soon enough.”
“His lordship will pay nicely fer an English lass,” his partner said.
“Aye,” the first captor said. “We’ll be eatin’ well taenight!”
“Fer a long while after that too!”
A chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold Highland wind. Her captors’ evil glee at the money she would bring in did cause a small shiver of fear. To be taken and sold likechattel… there was something very wrong with the world when a person was treated thusly. Her value even less than that of a prized mare sold at auction. What would become of her if she did not loosen her restraints?
Elsie gritted her teeth, pressing the small metal pin harder against the knot. The wagon came to a stop just as the knot loosened, giving way a small fraction, then another. Her heart leaped in her chest. The men’s voices grew closer.
“Keep her tied tight,” one growled. “She had a wild look in her eye.”
If only they knew how wild she could truly be. Her pulse hammered as the ropes holding her slipped free.
For a brief moment she was paralyzed, only able to stare at her hands as they trembled, finally free and red from the strain of her captivity. Finally free. She flexed her fingers, the thrill of disbelief flooding her. Quickly she came to her senses and began working the ropes around her ankles. The sharp point of the metal pin cut into the palm of her hand, but she barely noticed. Her focus was on freeing her legs.
Why did I not listen to Selene and stay within the walls of the estate?
Hoofbeats.
Elsie’s head jerked up, ears turning to the sound, her legs momentarily forgotten. In the distance she most definitely heard hoofbeats. And they weren’t the plodding rhythm of a draft horse like the one pulling her wagon. No, these were lighter, faster. Perhaps a single rider, maybe two.
Hope surged in her chest. If only she could reach them somehow. Strangers would surely help her gain freedom from her captors.
She worked furiously, and once her legs were free, she scrambled to the wagon door. The latch stuck, swollen with the damp air, but she would not be deterred. Elsie slammed her shoulder into the rotted wood.
The wood cracked open and light poured into the small, cramped space. Blinding, glorious light. She instinctively put her arm over her eyes, willing herself to adjust to the daylight. She jumped down, boots hitting the ground hard, sending sharp tingles up to her knees.
She staggered, before righting herself into a full sprint. Her skirts flew behind her as her lungs burned from the cold and exertion.
“Stop her!”
Elsie heard the pandemonium among her captors that her escape created, but she hardly cared. She refused to turn back. The moor stretched open in front of her, stopping abruptly along a ridge far out ahead. She ran, heather brushing against herknees. Somewhere beyond the ridge she could still hear the faint hoofbeats, though she was unsure if she truly heard them or if it was merely hope burning in her chest.
It's no matter,real or not.I’m free.
Then a hand caught her arm, yanking her back with force.
“No!” she cried, as she twisted and kicked, clawing at the red-haired man who pulled at her. He cursed as her nails raked down his cheek. “Let me go!”
