A moment later, a man appeared from between the trees, moving quickly and with purpose, a bow in his hand. At least that explained where the arrow had come from, though Charity still had little clue as to who this was, or what his intentions might be.
Words were coming out of his mouth now, though Charity did not seem to understand them properly. They did not sound like normal English.
“What?” She stared at him, still breathing too fast. “I don’t understand you.”
“Ye…aye. Ye’re awright. Daenae….daenae be fearin’. I didnae mean to harm ye,” he said, and Charity could barely make sense of what it was that he was saying. Though she did get the gist of it.
“You shot an arrow at my head,” Charity said, straightening her back now. She kept her gaze fixed on the man. If he had come to kill her, he would have done so already. Besides, he was not speaking to her in a very harsh tone.
Still, she could allow herself to feel safe.
The man looked toward the arrow in the tree as if annoyed with himself.
“I didnae shootatye, I shot near ye and ye woke sudden and…” He made a quick gesture toward the open woods. “I thought ye’d bolt.”
“Why would you stop me from running?”
“Because ye’re nae well,” he said, speaking more slowly now, as if she were the problem. “If ye run, ye’ll fall or worse.”
“You’re Scottish,” she said, and the realization made her stomach drop again. “This is Scotland.”
It was as though an important part of the puzzle had just been solved for her, though it took her a moment to realize.
“Aye.”
“How am I in Scotland?” she frowned, her head spinning with every passing second.How did any of this happen? Where are my sisters?
He opened his mouth, closed it, then said something in Gaelic again, looking past her shoulder like he expected someone else to answer.
“Don’t talk around me.” Charity snapped, “Tell me where I am.”
“I’m nae tryin’ to confuse ye,” the man’s brows drew together. “I’m tryin’ to figure out what to do with ye.”
“With me?” Charity repeated. “What do you mean, what to do with me? I didn’t wander here, and… well, I can barely make sense of what is happening around me. Did you bring me here?”
“Nay, lass,” he sounded offended, like she’d accused him of theft. Which, of course, only served to confuse her even more.
“Then who did?” Charity.
The man’s eyes flicked away again, and he did not answer.
Charity’s mind latched onto the worst explanation immediately: she had been taken, and he knew why.
“What is your name?”
The man seemed relieved to be asked something simple.
“Malcolm,” he said. “And ye’re goin’ to be awright.”
“How long have you been watching me?” Charity asked, and the question made her skin crawl.
“Long enough to know ye’re nae well,” Malcolm hesitated.
Charity’s stomach rolled again, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep it down.
“Where is the road? Where is the nearest town? I must go back to England.”
She kept wondering what her sisters might be doing, or how much time had passed. They must be worried about her, and that was the last thing that she wanted.
