What was he going to do?
Gretna saw that Remy had the upper hand and let out a breath, glad to see that he was unharmed by James’ assault. Still, the laird’s son was refusing to give up, shouting at Remy to kill him and if Remy did, she knew they would never be allowed to leave the McCellan land alive.
She had to do something quickly.
Finding the laird, whose face was pale from what he had just witnessed, she hurried to him.
“Tell yer son tae yield and let us go.”
The laird looked at her and she saw the concern in his eyes. “Wot?”
“We will leave right now,” she rushed on, hoping that he would see reason. “If ye break the contract between James and me. I donna wish tae wed him.” She wasn’t going to tell him who she truly cared for, but if anyone had been watching her face during the fight, it would be apparent.
“I canna,” the laird stated his lips in a firm line, “the contract is ironclad.”
“Nay,” Gretna stated, grabbing his arm. “Ye can and ye will.”
His eyes grew hard as he looked at her. “Why would I do that?”
Gretna knew that it was time to tell him what she had learned. “Because if ye donna, I will let yer clan and the ones around ye know aboot yer alliance with the British. Ye have proud Scots in yer clan, loyal tae their heritage. Wot would they do if they found out that their laird was nothing more than a traitor to the gold coin?”
For a moment, the laird looked as if he dared to breathe, her words sinking into his mind and Gretna released his arm, hoping that she hadn’t just sentenced herself to death.
“All I want tae do is leave with mah men,” she added. “I will never breathe a word otherwise.”
The laird finally drew in a breath. “Ye will take the secret tae yer grave?”
“Aye,” she answered, holding his gaze.
He looked at his son, his jaw clenched. “Yield!”
The crowd around them tittered with conversation as they looked at their laird, including James. “Now, James.”
Something passed from father to son before James let his arms fall to his sides, looking defeated.
“I yield.”
“Ye will leave now,” The laird said firmly as Remy rose to his feet, his eyes on Gretna. “Ye and yer men will be gone, before I can take another breath.”
Gretna moved to leave but he grabbed her hand, forcing her to look into his hard eyes.
“Ye would have made a good lady of the keep,” he said softly so that only she could hear his words. “Ye are a cunning lass and know how tae get wot ye want.”
“Thank ye, mah Laird,” she murmured, feeling a small kinship with the older Scot.
He pursed his lips but finally released her. “Donna come back on mah land again, Gretna Wallace. Ye will tell yer brotherthat it was ye that broke this alliance, but I willna retaliate as long as he keeps tae himself.”
Gretna nodded and hurried to Remy, grabbing his arm. “We have tae go now.”
Thankfully, he didn’t ask any questions, barking out orders to the three guards as he moved toward his waiting horse, dragging Gretna along with him. After he mounted, Remy reached down for her and Gretna took his hand, allowing him to pull her up in front of him on the horse, barely hanging on before he set the horse in motion.
20
They were free. Remy rode out of the McCellan village like the devil was chasing them, with Gretna clutching the saddle until her knuckles were white with strain. Her heart pounded in her ears, listening to horse’s hooves and waiting for the moment that an arrow would come whizzing by her ear. She knew that if it had been up to James, he would have killed them rather than let them go, but the laird had spoken and for now, it seemed that he was holding up his side of their bargain.
Remy hadn’t said a word to her since he had pulled her onto the horse and shot out of the courtyard, but Gretna could feel the tension in his body behind her as they rode away. He too was expecting for the laird to go back on his word and hunt them down.
Night fell around them and so did the threat of the forest as the horse raced on, the clouds preventing the moon from shining a light on their path. Gretna silently prayed that their journey would be a safe one, her body chilled from the cold night air. She had left everything behind that she had brought with her, not even bothering to grab her cloak before they left.
