She lurched toward the Hall, but Lachlan anticipated her movement and held her back.
“The lass will be taken care of. We have to go. The guards won’t be distracted for long.”
The cold grip of panic clenched her heart in its icy fist. She pulled against him, but his hand was clamped down on her so tightly she didn’t move. “I can’t leave without my daughter.”
He jerked her around harshly, his mouth pulled in a thin white line. She sucked in her breath, for the first time realizing just how dangerous this man could be. He looked every bit as mean and menacing as his reputation warned.
She should be terrified, but her skin prickled with a strange flush. In the midst of chaos, she felt the unwelcome shock of awareness. Her breath stilled. She could smell the leather of hiscotun, the wind on his skin, and the warm spiciness of his breath. But most of all she was distinctly aware of the heat and rock-hard strength of the body against hers. A warrior’s body.
Alarm flared through her like a bell. Her cheeks flushed with mortified heat. What was wrong with her? After years of feeling dead to sensation, her body decides to come alive now? To react to such a man was beyond shameful.
The hard clip of his voice brought her harshly back to reality.
“Look, Countess. If you want to get out of here before your husband arrives, we have to go now. Your daughter isn’t in any danger. The flames are nowhere near the Hall. I signaled to my men as we left the tower; they are fetching the gel now.”
“But—”
He cut off her protest. “Decide now. If you are getting out of here it’s right now. Are you going to do this or not?”
Helplessly, she gazed back across the courtyard, wishing that her daughter would somehow materialize out of the smoke. Every instinct urged her to race into the chaos to find her. But now that the initial panic had passed, she could see that he was right. The fire was not as big as it had originally seemed and wasn’t near the Hall.
She turned back to him. “You’re sure your men understood? Someone will get her? They won’t leave without her?”
His face hardened, but he met her gaze unflinchingly. “Aye.”
Bella held his gaze, knowing that she had no reason to trust him. Indeed from what she knew of him, she had every reason not to.
But she didn’t have a choice. Her decision had been made when she’d agreed to crown Robert.
She nodded. God help her, she nodded, hoping she hadn’t made the worst decision of her life.
She allowed him to drag her out of the castle gate and be herded with the stream of other terrified onlookers. The guards didn’t look at them twice, too busy trying to put out the fire and catch her husband’s valuable horses before they disappeared into the countryside.
The brigand pulled her along beside him toward the trees. She kept looking behind them, trying to catch a glimpse of her daughter in the crowd. Joan had been wearing red. A deep garnet gown embroidered in gold thread and pearls.
“Where is she?” she asked at one point. “I don’t see her.”
He didn’t answer, pulling her deeper and deeper into the forest. Soon she wouldn’t be able to see the castle at all.
“Stop,” she said, jerking back and digging her heels into the ground. “Where are your men? Where is my—”
The sharp sounds of a whistle behind them stopped her. Lachlan returned the sound and a few moments later two men rode up behind them, leading two additional horses—one of which she recognized as her husband’s.
“You have her?” one of the riders asked.
Like Lachlan, the two men were not dressed as knights and wore darkened nasal helms, padded black leather war coats studded with pieces of steel, and strangely fashioned dark plaids.
“Aye,” Lachlan responded.
“Any trouble?” the other man asked.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Lachlan said, taking the reins of one of the horses.
Bella looked around, expecting to see more men joining them. “Wherearethe rest of your men?”
The smaller of the men on horseback—the one who’d spoken first—grinned. “Wearethe rest, my lady.”
Her gaze shot to Lachlan. “Then who is getting my daughter?”
