Page 24 of Kidnapped By a Highland Shadow

Something flickered across Arran’s face. It could have been pity, which somehow seemed even worse. Pippia wanted to scream and spit at him, to fling herself across the fire and attack him. The rage, apparently one of the few things she’d inherited from her father, abated quickly as Pippia’s stomach began to rumble. Apparently her belly had had enough of feeling empty and sick and was now very hungry. The lack of immediate danger seemed to have convinced the rest of Pippia’s body that all was well, even if her brain kept reminding her that this situation could not end well.

“I can’t,” Arran said softly. “I’m sorry. But I won’t hurt you, and I’ll keep you safe. You have nothing to fear from me, I promise you that.”

“Your promises aren’t worth much,” Pippia countered. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere else.”

“I know that. D’you think I’m a fool? Who sent you?”

“Nobody you’ve ever met.”

Pippia growled under her breath. “You’re unbelievable.”

Arran sighed, sagging forward a little. He’d shrugged off his McTavie tartan, which Pippia would have bet good money was stolen from somebody else, and sat in his shirt and kilt. He raised his arm to scratch the back of his head, and the thin linen shirt pulled tight over the muscles of his arm and chest. Pippia found herself transfixed by the impressive play of muscles as he moved.

No, no, you endlessly stupid lass! Pippia mentally screamed at herself. She imagined Hilda, with her stern common sense and no-nonsense manner, and that helped her to calm down a little. No matter how handsome this stranger—Arran—was, he was still a kidnapper. He was still untrustworthy. Whatever was waiting for her at the end of this journey was not a good thing.

She must escape.

“What’s that?” Pippia asked, gesturing to the roasting meat as if she could not guess that it was two rabbits and a pigeon. She needed him distracted. Happy to talk about something other than their destination, Arran immediately launched into a description of their dinner and how he’d trapped the unfortunate creatures.

While he spoke, Pippia glanced around, trying to get her bearings. They were in a tiny clearing, and the rest of the forest was pitch black. She would have been discovered missing by now, and surely he would know this. They’d ridden on the horse, which she could now see munching on grass nearby, so they must be far enough away from the castle for Arran to light a fire.

With the night sky ahead and the dark forest hemming them in, Pippia realized with a sinking heart that she had no idea where they were. Were they even in McTavie land?

She thought that the strange man could be part of a group of bandits. Perhaps they thought that kidnapping Laird McTavie’s daughter would get them a quick and easy ransom, and then they could retire or do whatever bandits did when they stopped thieving. She glanced over at Arran again. Frankly, he didn’t look much like a bandit. He looked like a warrior, plain and simple. Still, Pippia knew that looks could be deceiving.

Would Malcolm even pay a ransom for her? That thought landed in Pippia’s heart like a cold, heavy stone. Especially after her anger at her upcoming marriage and the way she’d run out of the keep. Perhaps her loving father would decide that she had gotten what was coming to her, and there was nothing further he could do.

Pippia shivered. Surely not. Not his only child.

“Are you cold?”

Jerked out of her thoughts, Pippia looked up at Arran, a little startled. “What?”

“You’re shivering. Are you cold?” he repeated. “You can have this.” He held out his cloak.

Pippia stared at it. Why was he being so kind to her? What cruel, terrifying game was he playing?

I must escape.

“I’m not cold,” Pippia said, trying to sound calm. “I am hungry, however. Is the meat ready yet?”

“Wait, let me see.”

While Arran was bent over the fire, fussing over their food, Pippia took her chance. Hoisting up her skirts around her knees, she ran.

She chose a direction at random. At night, unfamiliar parts of the forest all looked the same. Pippia knew that if she overthought her route, she would miss her opportunity. She could only pray that she’d taken the direction that would lead her out of the forest or near to somebody that could help.

She should also hope that they were still within McTavie territory. If not, there was a good chance that nobody would help her.

Pippia heard him exclaim as she leaped up and ran, and he came crashing out of the clearing after her. Hopefully, his vision would be as darkened and blurry from the light of the fire as hers, so the dark forest would be too dark to navigate.

She hoped he would run into a tree and knock himself unconscious and hopefully experience the same pounding headache that Pippia had.

He was right behind her. Pippia ran faster.