Page 28 of Kidnapped By a Highland Shadow

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, as an air of awkwardness settled over them both.

“Well enough.”

“We’ll have breakfast, and then we’ll leave. First—”

“You have to let me go,” Pippia burst out. “Please. Please let me go.”

Arran’s gaze dropped, and Pippia thought she saw guilt in his. “I cannot let you go. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you can. You can just…just untie us and let me go. Can’t you at least give me a head start? Wouldn’t that be the chivalrous thing to do, to give me a chance?”

Arran sighed. “I’m sorry. Chivalry doesn’t come into this. You don’t seem to be a foolish lass; I’m sure you know that chivalry is something for old stories, not real life.”

“Not unless we make it. Please let me go. I don’t know where you’re taking me or why, but I think we both know it won’t end well for me.”

He shook his head firmly. “I can’t, I’m sorry. Look, you’re tired and hungry. Let’s eat.”

Arran reached over to a leather pouch behind his sleeping place, trying not to tug on Pippia’s wrist too much.

Fighting back tears, Pippia looked around. She’d hoped that daylight would shed a little more light on her predicament, but unfortunately, not. They could have been in any forest in Scotland for all she knew. She couldn’t even tell which direction they’d traveled in. Was he taking her further up North or down toward the Lowlands? Were they heading to the sea?

There were no familiar landmarks. The forest was just trees and undergrowth, and Pippia knew that if she were to escape somehow, she would be terribly lost. She’d never been permitted to travel far away from the castle in any case, no more than a few hours of walking.

These forests were like a labyrinth, dark and close-packed. Trees all looked the same, and Pippia had no real experience in traveling.

She would never find her way home.

Arran withdrew a little cheesecloth parcel and smiled awkwardly at Pippia.

“There’s some bread that I bought in town yesterday. It’s a little stale today, but it’ll be alright. There’s some cold meat left over from the rabbit yesterday.” Arran split a piece of black bread in half and handed it to Pippia along with a handful of cold, greasy meat. He smiled wryly at her expression.

“Not what you’re used to?”

“No,” Pippia muttered.

“This isn’t the best food travelers can expect, but it’s certainly not the worst. With all due respect, I thought you ought to lower your expectations. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to live off sour berries and stale bread, and I daresay it won’t be the last. Cheer up. I’ll find us some better fare as we go along. I can hardly hunt with you tied to my wrist, can I?”

“Maybe you should untie me. I’ll wait here for you, I promise.” Pippia blinked up at him, trying to look helpless and trustworthy. Should she offer to give her word of honor?

Arran chuckled. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Eat up; we’ll find water as we go. I’ve saved some meat and bread for later today.”

Pippia was tempted to throw the food back in his face, but the delicate scent of meat and bread wafted up from the open cheesecloth, and her stomach rumbled. Not the best, Arran had said, and not the worst, either. Truthfully, the roasted rabbit meat from last night had been just as well-cooked and tasty as any of the meat dishes from a McTavie feast.

“I’m not hungry,” Pippia lied, hanging on to the last of her pride.

“You will be,” Arran answered, munching on his bread. “We’ve a long way to go, and I daresay poor Edward can’t carry both of us. We’ll need to take turns.”

“Why, so you can drag me behind you as you ride ahead?” Pippia flared. “Not likely. How heavy do you think I am? Also, you’re underestimating Edward. I’ll wager that horse can carry us both, especially since we’re traveling light. I don’t intend to walk for days just because you didn’t think to get two horses.”

Far from seeming to be angry at her temper, Arran smiled to himself. “You certainly can speak for yourself, can’t you?”

“Somebody has to.”

Arran didn’t disagree, only nodded knowingly. “Believe it or not, lass, I know what it’s like to be passed around like a dish of meat, disregarded, forgotten, and only ever used for someone else’s ends.”

Pippia snorted. “Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe.”

Arran shrugged. “I can’t make you believe anything, but it’s true.”