“Now leave, Lord Moore,” Laird MacCallum gestured to the door. “Yer carriage is awaitin’ ye.”
“Goodbye, my Laird,” Lord Moore scoffed, then turned back and nodded to the guards. “Take her to the carriage.”
“No,” she complained as the guards turned her away again. She strained to get one last look at Laird MacCallum, for one last memory of the man that in another life may have been her new family. “No—No –let go of me!”
One of the guards bent her right arm behind her back at such an unnatural angle that she had no choice but to go where he said. She wanted to search the corridors as she was marched out, look for a last glimpse of Erskine too. She wanted to see the face of the man who had betrayed her so, to see if he felt any remorse for what he had done, but it was no good. The way the guards walked her, she was forced to stare at the floor for the whole of her walk.
She only grew aware of her surroundings when she was taken outside. There she felt the cold wind against her cheeks, and she was pushed to stand straight again. Before her was a traveling chariot carriage, painted black and with four horses fastened to the harnesses at the front.
“Laura!” The unmistakable voice of Lennox cut across the chatter of the guards. Laura’s head darted back and forth until she saw Lennox further down the street. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with realization.
“Lennox!” she cried to her, just as the guards dragged her toward the carriage.
“What’s happened?” Lennox tried to get around the guards, but the Earl was suddenly blocking her path.
“Lennox, be careful,” Laura called to her, but it did nothing.
“What are ye doin’ with her? Where are ye takin’ her?” Lennox demanded, reminding Laura of how Erskine had first described the woman: strong-willed.
“None of your business, highland wench,” the Earl scoffed, stepping in her way again to block her path. At the words, Lennox’s eyebrows shot up.
“Arenae ye a charmer?” she balked. “Let me see Laura. Now.”
“Move away, woman,” Lord Moore lowered his voice, “or you will regret it.”
“Lennox, don’t—–ah!” Laura couldn’t finish her warning as one of the guards opened the carriage door and tossed her inside.
“Laura,” Lennox tried to push past the Earl, but he had clearly lost his patience. He shoved her back, taking hold of her arms and pushing her so violently that she fell to the floor, striking her head against the cobbles.
“No!” Laura screeched the word, certain she had never made such a loud sound in her life. She tried to scramble back out of the door, but the Earl was suddenly in front of her. He wrestled with her arms and forced her back inside.
“Come on,” the Earl called to the guards. “Quickly, we’re leaving. Now.”
Laura wrestled with him to be free, but he was too strong. She only managed to make it to the window, just in time to see Lennox back on her feet. There was a trickle of blood on her forehead, but she barely seemed to notice. She was running after the carriage as it lurched forward.
“No!” Laura screamed the word again as Lennox disappeared completely from view.
How could Erskine do this to me!?
She thought back to every moment they had shared over the last few weeks, realizing with horror what he truly had been doing all along. When he had asked her to marry him, of course, he had never really meant it. He was only after sleeping with her. That had to be it. Every kind thing he had said was all in the aim of a plan: use her for a time and then turn her in to gain the reward.
How could I have been so wrong about him?
Then she thought back to how he had made love to her, how passionate it had been and how loving she had mistakenly thought it was. She remembered how strongly she had wanted to tell him she loved him, and now she was glad she never had.
He never said he loved me, did he? That should have warned me.
* * *
The screech woke Erskine.
What was that?
He had to lift a hand to his temple and bump it with his fist in his effort to try and clear some of the blur. He looked around to see he was still in the feasting room sat in the chair where he had slept before. He glanced at the windows, but from the position of the sun in the sky, he had slept late indeed.
I never sleep so late, what is happenin’?
He moved to his feet, but the world swayed with it as though trying to claw him back down into the depths of sleep. That’s when he straightened up, feeling how wrong things were. He had been drunk and hungover before, many times and often enough, but this felt different. He did not have the pounding headache he associated with a hangover, and neither had he drank so much that he should have slept for that long in just a chair.
