“He…” Lilly pointed with a shaky hand to the corner behind the open door, catching a small detail he had missed. “He left his cane.”
Lachlan’s head snapped in that direction. He crossed the distance in only a few strides and snatched up the cane. His grip tightened on it, his hands trembling with a fury he could no longer contain.
The cane. The leather case. His hands must have been full.
“That bastard,” he growled.
Finn moved toward the window. “I have questioned the guards,” he said, scanning the courtyard below. “They didnae see anyone leave. We think he might have carried her through here.”
The room fell silent, but only for a moment before he spoke again.
“Aye!” he called sharply. “The carriage!”
Lachlan reached the window beside him before he finished speaking. His eyes fell on her—Marian. Her hands and feet were bound with the twine. Her body hung limp as two men hoisted her into the carriage, her head falling back at an unnatural angle, as though she were already?—
It cannae be.
The thought stabbed at his heart like a blade. Bile rose in his throat.
Nay.
His hands slammed against the window frame as he hauled himself up, vaulting through it before Finn could stop him.
“Ready the horses!” he shouted, his voice cutting across the courtyard.
But he did not wait for anyone. His horse was already saddled. It had been since the Englishman arrived.
Lachlan mounted it in one clean motion and spurred it forward, chasing Lord Norton’s carriage through the castle gates before the rest of his men had even gathered in the courtyard.
Lachlan leaned low over his horse as it galloped through the gate.
Lord Norton must have seen him, because the carriage gained ground ahead of him, the horses running hard through the darkening road at an increasing speed.
They were trying to outrun him.
Aye.
A dangerous calm settled over him as he urged his horse onward, veering off the road and into the woods that lined it. This was his home. The Highlands were his territory, and nobody knew it better than he did.
He dug his heels hard into his horse’s flanks, and the beast surged beneath him, its muscles flexing as it moved faster.
Lachlan’s gaze did not leave the main road. The trees blurred past them, some of the low branches whipping at his face and arms. But he did not slow down.
He could not.
He caught glimpses of the carriage through the thick trees as the distance between them slowly began to shrink.
Every second that passed was another second Marian spent bound and bleeding in the back of it. Another second that her vile uncle hurt her. Another second that she might believe no one was coming for her.
He would not allow it.
The road narrowed as the carriage dipped into a valley, and he seized the advantage without hesitation.
The jagged rocks and uneven terrain forced his horse to slow down, but only for a moment. Lachlan leaned low further,gripping the reins tighter as his horse tore down the slope, the loose stones scattering beneath its experienced hooves.
He saw the carriage jolt violently as it forced its way through. One of its wheels struck a rock with a sharp crack that echoed through the valley, and his heart lurched.
Marian.
