Before Kenneth could respond,several of his councilmen muttered their agreement. They had protested vehemently when he'd announced Sophie would participate, claiming it wasn't proper for a lady to join the hunt.
"Me wife is full of surprises,"Kenneth replied, his voice carrying enough authority to silence the muttering. The sight ofher in her riding habit, hair gleaming in the morning sun, made his heart race. She belonged here, as much as any of them.
Kenneth reacted instantly.In one fluid motion, he nocked an arrow and drew. The bird wheeled against the sky, a difficult target even for an experienced archer, but Kenneth's aim was true.
"Well shot, Laird MacAdams!"MacDean called out, genuine respect in his voice. "I see yer reputation as a marksman is well-earned."
Kenneth inclinedhis head in acknowledgment, but Sophie noticed the proud gleam in his eye. Later in the hunt, she spotted a rabbit darting between the heather. Drawing her own bow, she took careful aim, remembering Kenneth's lessons. Her arrow found its mark, earning her own share of congratulations.
"Thank ye, me laird,"she replied to MacDean's praise, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I had an excellent teacher." Her eyes met Kenneth's, full of warmth and something more intimate that made his blood heat.
"I'll fetch it,"Sophie announced, turning her horse toward where her rabbit had fallen.
Kenneth watchedher ride toward the copse of trees where the bird had dropped. Something nagged at his instincts – a shadow of movement, perhaps, or just the way the morning mist clung too thickly to the trees.
A soundfrom the opposite direction drew his attention – another grouse breaking cover. Several of the lairds turned their horses, eager for their own chance at a kill.
"Fine sport!"someone called out. "After it!"
But Kenneth'sattention remained fixed on the spot where Sophie had disappeared into the trees. She should have returned by now. The uneasy feeling in his gut grew stronger.
"Sophie?"he called out, but only silence answered.
Without a word to the others,Kenneth urged his horse forward. As he approached the trees, his tracker's eyes picked up signs that made his blood run cold. The grass was trampled in a pattern that spoke of struggle, not hunting. A piece of Sophie's ribbon fluttered from a branch, torn free in what must have been a desperate moment.
"Lachlan!"Kenneth's voice cracked like thunder across the moor. His man-at-arms appeared at his side almost instantly.
"Gather the men,"Kenneth ordered, already dismounting to study the tracks more closely. "Sophie's been taken."
Lachlan's facedarkened with rage. "Mason?"
"Aye."Kenneth could read the signs as clearly as any book. At least four men besides Mason, all moving east through the trees.They'd planned this well, waiting until Sophie was separated from the group.
The other lairdsbegan to gather, drawn by the commotion. Kenneth barely heard their questions and exclamations, his mind already racing ahead, plotting the most likely route Mason would take.
He'd promisedto protect her, had sworn it before God and men. The thought of Sophie in Mason's hands made him sick with rage and fear.
"The trails split here,"Lachlan reported, examining the ground. "They're tryin' to confuse any pursuit."
But Kenneth wasn't fooled.He'd spent years honing his tracking skills, driven by a need to prove himself worthy despite his faither's scorn. Now, those skills would help him save the woman he... the woman he couldn't bear to lose.
"They'll headfor the old watchtower," he said decisively. "It's defensible, and Mason kens the territory. But I ken a shorter route through the hills."
He swung backinto his saddle, addressing the gathered lairds. "Me lairds, I must ask yer forgiveness for cuttin' the hunt short. Lachlan will see ye safely back to the keep."
"Nonsense,"MacDean declared, his face stern. "Ye'll need men ye can trust at yer back. I'm coming with ye."
Other lairds voiced their agreement,and Kenneth felt a surge of gratitude. This was why the Highland alliances mattered – not just for trade and politics, but for moments like these when clan stood with clan.
"Follow me lead,"Kenneth ordered, already urging his horse forward. "And stay alert. Mason willnae give her up without a fight."
As they rode,Kenneth's mind filled with images of Sophie –her grace at last night's feast, the way she felt in his arms in the shepherd's hut. He'd been a fool to hold himself apart from her for so long, to pretend what he felt was merely duty or desire.
Now,with the prospect of losing her looming before him, he could no longer deny the truth. He loved her. Not just her beauty or her spirit, but everything she was – her kindness, her strength, the way she'd brought light and warmth back into his life.
The realization drovehim forward with renewed determination. He would find her. He would save her. And then, if God was merciful, he would spend the rest of his life showing her exactly how much she meant to him.
The tracks ledthem through increasingly rough terrain, but Kenneth never lost the trail. He could read the signs of their passing like a map – here a broken branch, there a scuff mark on a rock, each one pointing the way to Sophie.
