Page 47 of Kidnapped By a Highland Shadow

“Is Malcolm McTavie the kind of man who listens to explanations?” Arran asked gently. “Do you think he’d listen, or do you think he’d lock you in your room until your marriage and hang me from the nearest tree?”

Pippia fell silent. She imagined her father’s rage, his bellowing, his angry blows. She imagined Arran’s body, hanging still and lifeless from a tree branch, his tattered tartan hanging from his limp form. She imagined herself looking at his dead body from her window, sobbing fruitlessly.

She shuddered.

“You’re right. He wouldn’t listen.”

Arran smiled sadly. “So, you see, I have to go.”

Pippia swallowed hard. “Where will you go?”

“I’ll follow the river up out of the Stewart estate. I’ll go north, far away from all this. Some clan or other will take me in, and perhaps I can set up my own life. I’m tired of bloodshed, Pippia. I’m tired of fighting and tired of dancing to another man’s tune.”

Pippia hooked Edward’s reins onto the saddle and slowly and painfully slid down.

“What are you doing?” Arran asked, frowning. “You had better hurry and get across the river. They should lose your trail once you’ve crossed, and there’s a good chance that we’re being followed.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Pippia said clearly.

Arran smiled down at her, like a parent humoring a child. “You must, Pippia. You have to go home, and I need to find somewhere new to live.”

“Well, let’s go together.”

Arran sighed. “That can’t happen.”

“Why not? Give me one reason why not.”

“Because you’ve got obligations. You’ve got a future.”

“And you haven’t?”

“Not like yours.”

Pippia sighed impatiently. “You’re just looking for excuses. If you don’t wish to run away with me, tell me the truth. I’m a grown-up lass, and I can take a little rejection. I thought… I thought you liked me, but if I’m wrong, that’s alright. I still owe you a debt for saving my life, and there’ll be no ill feeling. I just want the truth, Arran.”

Arran chuckled. “Oh, come on, lass, you know it’s not that. I said I cared for you, and I meant it. But you and me have different destinies.”

“Rubbish. All this talk of fate and destiny sounds like an excuse and nothing more. Do you want to leave with me, yes or no?”

“Yes, but…” Arran sucked in a breath as Pippia threw herself at him, throwing her arms around his waist and holding on tightly. “Pippia…”

“Don’t ‘Pippia’ me. I’m not leaving you. I’m not.”

Arran swallowed hard. “You have to let me go.”

“I don’t. I won’t.”

“Why would you want to come with me? I can’t give you the life you’re used to. It’ll be hard work and poverty if you live with me, and make no mistake… No more fine dresses and jewels, no more expensive knives…”

“I know.”

He blinked down at her, eyes misting. “Why on earth would you want this?”

“Because…” Pippia paused, drawing in a breath. “Because I love you, Arran. I want to be with you.”

Arran had given up on trying to wrestle her hands away from him. He was now simply holding her wrists, fingers wrapped around her arms.

“That means a lot to me, Pippia, much more than you’ll ever know. But the fact is, you’re needed. Your clan needs you. They’ll miss you.”