Of course, he had accepted, especially after he laid eyes on Ismay. She was beguiling and bewitching with her long, fiery tresses flowing all about her. Her temper flared like a hellcat he ached to subdue and tame. He’d wanted her but had agreed to wait, like a fool. When hefound her, he would not wait another instant.
Aye, he would still take Ismay as his wife. He wanted what he was promised. As for giving the baron’s wife half the fortune, she would wait for it until she died, which, if he has his way, will not be long after her daughter’s death.
He went to his horse and checked the saddle, then pulled himself up on the stirrup. He was going to find her. If he searched until his last day on earth, he would find her and have her and her father’s fortune.
First though, he had to ride into the forest and find his men’s camp. Of course, the ruffians could not spend the night at the inn. Who would pay? Certainly not him. Besides, they were dirty, rowdy men who would draw attention and offend.
Alistair did not always want to be associated with them. He would soon be rich and his image would be important.
As he entered the forest, he had the sinking feeling that they were going the wrong way. How could no one have seen her with her sun-colored hair, short or long, it stood out. She could be traveling with her hair covered, but who would not remember a lass traveling alone or with a man? Women did not often travel far from their home.
What if she’d gone from Raigmore northeast toward Culloden or south, toward Kiliwhimin? Had she not mentioned joining a convent over becoming someone’s wife? Was Kiliwhimin not Saint Cummein of Iona who had built a church there?
What made him travel west? He had decided on going west, toward Skye because it was mostly a desolate place, with the clan MacLeod in the north and clan MacDonald closer to the mainland. She could hide on Skye without being seen or found for years.
He found his eleven men clearing up their campsite when he arrived. Unlike Ismay, who had either gone in a different direction or did not leave a trace that she had camped anywhere, they left a good amount behind for anyone to find them.
Alistair did not care about cores, or pits, or bonesscattering the grass. He cared about catching his defiant bride, and that was all. His men were there in case she had help in escaping.
“Any leads at the inn, Chief?” one of the men asked. He was Ramsey Fergusson, one of the meaner looking men of the group, with a long scar running down his face, two teeth missing, and dark stubble covering half his face.
Alistair shook his head. “Today we will head south.”
No one questioned him. They knew better after he ran Brodie Graham through with his sword after the miscreant made a crude remark about mayhap having a go with Miss MacPherson for all the trouble she caused.
He would kill any man who touched her or even spoke of touching her. If they tried to stop him from finding her or questioned his ability to do so, he would kill them. They were nothing but hired mercenaries anyway. Who would miss them?
“Let’s go.” He didn’t wait for any of them but flicked his reins and took off in a southern direction.
“Kiliwhimin,” he said to the air. “Are ye hiding in an abbey, my dear? I am going to find ye and then I will cut off the rest of yer hair.” He chuckled to himself.
His mirth was dashed to pieces when they reached the abbey in Kiliwhimin days later and were told that there had been a lass here looking for a permanent place to live.
She had been there! He gritted his teeth thinking of the time he had wasted traveling toward Skye.
“We suggested she go on toward Aberchalder.”
“How long ago?” Alistair demanded.
“Almost a fortnight now,” the abbess answered.
Alistair did not care who this woman standing before him served. He cursed, spat, and stormed away.
He wanted to keep traveling without stopping to eat. He had already lost too much time. But the men murmured under their breathand rather than make enemies of them, he gave in and let them fill their bellies.
Soon though, soon he would catch up to her.
And then he would make certain she could never run from him again.
*
Ismay closed hereyes and breathed. She had to tell herself to inhale-exhale-inhale. At first when Lochaber’s Lochiel stepped behind her and fit her neatly against all his hard angles so he could show her how to hold a dirk, she thought about breaking free of him and running.
But, mayhap sensing her fears, he leaned his head in and spoke softly in her ear. “Dinna fear me, lass. Dinna fear any man. Stab. Jab. Duck.” With each instruction he gave, he moved her hand gripping the dirk to show her how it was done and made her forget her fear. “Slice at the neck, the thigh. Here, and here.”
His voice filled every nook and cranny within her where fear lurked, chasing it away and replacing it with belief in herself. He held her and had her mime him for the first hour and then he faced her as an enemy and taught her where to strike with a weapon or without one.
She would admit, watching him so close to her, so intent on his lesson, she was tempted to smile and sigh dreamily. She didn’t.
