Page 9 of A Bride for the Kilted Beast

His threats rang in the air as the brothers hurried away across the field to the gate and into the yard of the tavern, heading for the stables, Diarmaid towing the girl behind them.

“We need to get out of here fast,” he told Ciarán, “lest he follow us.” It was at that point he became aware of the girl whose wrist he was holding. He glanced at her in some surprise, for she was digging her heels into the ground, while trying to pull away from his grip, clearly intending to flee.

“What dae ye think ye’re doing?” he asked, tightening his grip and trying not to show his pain when she scratched at his hand with her sharp nails.

“Lemme me go, ye bastard. I’m nae yer property,” she spat at him, her long blonde hair flying and her sapphire-blue eyes shooting daggers at his.

“’Tis nae the way a lass should address her laird, especially nae the man she’s about tae wed,” he told her, amazed at the fight she was putting up despite her small size. He had to swiftly keep moving to avoid her kicks and the blows she rained upon him with her free arm, along with pulling his hair and scratching at his face. He grabbed her flailing arm and pinned her wrist along with the other one, trying to hold her at arm’s length as he dragged her along behind him.

To his great annoyance, Ciarán let out a guffaw. “She’s a feisty lass, tae be sure, Braither. D’ye need any help there?”

“Shut yer hole, Ciarán, will ye?” Diarmaid told him impatiently, still having to avoid the vicious kicks the girl was aiming at his shins. “Dae ye nae ken, I paid a lot o’ money fer ye?” he told her, tightening his grip on her wrists, making her squeal in pain. But she did not stop kicking him.

“Ye cannae buy a human being!” she shouted at him, her face screwed up in anger, fighting him again. “I dinnae care how much money ye think ye paid fer me. Ye cannae own a person. Let me go!”

“Well, that’s nae true,” he said as they crossed the inn courtyard and arrived at the stables, “because I own ye, and ye’d best get used to the idea, fer we’re tae be married tomorrow.”

“I’d rather die than be married tae ye,” she hissed.

“That can be arranged,” he said coolly, thinking it would frighten her. He was soon proved wrong, and the stream of colorful invective she poured out at him between well-aimed kicks sent Ciarán into stitches as he brought their horses out of the stalls.

“Ye’ve definitely got yer money’s worth there, Diarmaid,” he choked out. “I dinnae think anyone’s ever addressed the Laird o’ Kincaid like that in their life!”

Diarmaid could only scowl at his laughing brother as he held the fighting girl up by her wrists until she winced in pain.

“Now, ye have two choices. Either ye come quietly, or I can tie ye. Which is it? And stop trying tae kick me, will ye?”

Suddenly, she stopped struggling. “All right. I’ll come quietly,” she agreed, but as soon as he loosened his hold on her wrists, she tried to run, and he had to tighten it again.

“Hand me a rope, Braither, will ye?” he said, feigning a sigh of impatience, though, in truth, he found the girl’s antics quite amusing. Still laughing, Ciarán tossed him a couple of lengths of rope before mounting his horse. It was the work of moments for Diarmaid to tie the girl’s wrists and ankles tightly, though she continued to struggle.

“Well, ye’re nae a shrinking violet, I’ll grant ye that,” he told her as he tied off the final knots and put her in the saddle. “But I have tae say that yer manners are nae what I expect from the daughter of Caelin McIrving. I thought the McIrving’s were a reputable clan.” He swung himself into the saddle behind her, settling her against him.

“I’m nae that swine McIrving’s daughter, ye great fool! Me name’s Lillie MacDonald, and me brother’s the Laird ’o MacDonald,” she told him. “And when me brothers find out about this, ye’ll wish ye were dead, I promise ye.”

Diarmaid thought about that as he and Ciarán turned their horses from the stable, clip-clopped across the yard, and headed south on the highway.

“Ye have a vivid imagination, I’ll say that fer ye, though why ye claim nae tae be McIrving’s daughter, I dinnae ken,” he replied, shaking his head as he and Ciarán kicked the horses into a brisk trot.

“Well, I dinnae ken how many times I have tae tell ye,” said the enigma sitting in front of him, making him wonder if he could have possibly made the biggest and most expensive mistake of his life, just to spite Odhràn Lennox.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Ach, ye dummart! ’Tis all a misunderstanding! McIrving did nae want tae sell his daughter, so he kidnapped me while I was shopping at the market in Kirkauld, tae take her place. He forced me at knifepoint tae dae his bidding,” she shouted at Kincaid in frustration. “I’m Lillie MacDonald, the sister of the Laird ’o MacDonald, I tell ye!”

“Ye cannae blame me if I dinnae believe ye,” her captor said calmly as they rode along at a fast pace. She bounced uncomfortably before him, wedged between his powerful legs, while his enormous arms enclosed her like a cage.

“Aye, ‘tis an outlandish tale, tae be sure,” the one called Ciarán chimed in. “But a good effort all the same, though what the MacDonalds havetae do with it, I dinnae ken. I suppose we cannae blame the lass for trying to talk her way out of it.”

“I’m nae tryin’ to talk me way—ach, what’s the point,” she said with a sigh, shaking her head in despair. She felt utterly powerless to do anything to change her situation, for whatever she said, they clearly were not going to believe her.

But that did not mean she had to give up trying to get away. In her head, she formed a plan: she would appear to acquiesce, to the point where he would trust her enough to untie her ankles. Then, as soon as she had the chance, she would run.

So, she stayed silent. After a while, she felt him shift in his seat. “Why are ye so quiet all of a sudden?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

“Well, it seems I cannae get ye tae believe me, and I have nae way tae escape, so I’ve accepted me destiny,” she told him, doing her best to sound dispirited.

“About time,” he replied laconically, and the one called Ciarán chuckled. And though her teeth rattled from the continual bouncing of the trotting horse, and the ropes bit cruelly into her skin, Lillie settled down patiently to wait until they stopped, either to make camp for the night or when they reached his stronghold.