The man loomed close. ‘Be quiet, do exactly as I say, and you’ll not suffer any more than you need to this day,’ he said with a snarl. He untied the ropes, dragged Cecily to his horse and bid her mount up. But fear had robbed her legs of their strength, so he took hold of her waist and hoisted her up, flinging himself into the saddle behind her. The man took hold of the reins with broad, rough hands. There was dirt under his fingernails. Edmund had always had such clean hands.
With a click of his tongue, they set off. Cecily was silent for some time as they rode along a rough path into the wind. Her cheek throbbed where Edmund had lashed her face. She was glad of the jacket the man had given her, for her teeth were chattering. And though his belly pressed to her back made her want to squirm away from him, it did warm her a little. The man didn’t seem to want to talk. Perhaps he was plotting what to do with her. Would he slit her throat and haul her by the ankles into the bushes to moulder away like Edmund? She had to get on his good side and calm his anger.
He slowed his horse as they reached some woodland, so she took her chance. ‘So, who are you?’ she said.
‘I told you. My name is Peyton,’ he replied. Cecily started at his voice after the silence. It was so low and rough, like hooves on stones. ‘And you are Cecily MacCreadie. Do I have that right?’ he continued.
‘No. I’m not a MacCreadie.’
‘Don’t lie,’ he scoffed. ‘You said you came from Fallstairs. You are not dressed like a servant, so you must be one of old MacCreadie’s daughters. He has two and keeps them close, as I understand it.’
‘You can believe what you like.’
‘Aye. I will. So tell me, Cecily MacCreadie, why was an Englishman riding about the moors all alone, seducing a laird’s daughter? It is dangerous for his kind out here.’
Fear choked her, but she swallowed it. ‘Edmund is...was...a merchant’s son. His father sent him north from Cumbria to manage his interests.’
‘Trade. Is that what your lover told you?’
She turned to look at him. ‘He was not my lover. We were betrothed. We were going to be married, he said.’
‘Sorry to ruin your girlish dreams, but I doubt he intended to marry you.’
‘I know that now. Edmund lied and said he loved me, in all earnestness.’
‘And you believed him? Ah, why wouldn’t you, him looking like he did. That lout had a handsome face to suck in the unwary. I am sure you were not the first, nor would you have been the last.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘Why does a cat play with a mouse? Because it has a cruel nature and because it can. That Edmund lied to get what all men want from a bonnie lass.’
‘And what is that?’
He frowned down at her. ‘Do you not know?’
‘To…to see me without my clothes on?’ she said, searching for answers in his face.
He raised his eyebrows, and a mocking smile twisted his mouth. ‘Lass, are you in earnest? I mean, there is innocence, and then there is ignorance.’
‘I don’t understand anything you are saying or any of this,’ said Cecily.
Peyton was unsettled by Cecily MacCreadie’s wide-eyed stare, and her voice was wobbling. God forbid he should cause her to assault his ears with her crying again. Was she playing a game with him, leading him by the nose like Lorna? Irritation boiled in his gut - at the way his day had turned, the strife he must now face riding into Fellscarp with her, and by the way Cecily MacCreadie’s shapely bottom was rubbing him the wrong way as the horse jolted along the track. Most of all, he was irritated by the loveliness of her eyes. There was absolutely no guile in them. They were a delightful marriage of green and blue, the irises flecked with gold. And she had the thickest, longest lashes of any woman he had ever encountered. Not that he had got close to that many.
She was probably bonnie underneath the blood and mud on her face. Her mouth was near his, and she was soft under his hands. Desire stirred in Peyton. It had been a good while since he had lain with a woman, ever since he had set his sights on Lorna, in fact. And now he had a surfeit of lust mingled with anger boiling in his veins. He looked out at the pale sky in the distance.
‘Turn around,’ he said, his tongue catching in his throat. He tightened his hold, and her body went rigid under his hands. ‘We’ll have no more talking. We must make haste as a snowstorm is rolling in, and we do not want to get caught in it.’
Chapter Six
Heavy snow was driving in sideways, and Cecily was drooping with exhaustion when her captor announced, ‘We are almost at Fellscarp, my home.’
Fellscarp. She had heard her father and brother mention it, but had never paid much attention to their mutterings.
‘Better brace yourself, lass,’ said her captor.
‘For what?’
‘My clansmen do not know you, and they will be curious about me riding in with a stranger, especially a lass. You will keep your mouth shut about who you are and what occurred today. Speak not one word to anyone. Is that clear?’
