Page 66 of Married to her Kilted Enemy

The next three days were the worst of Odhrán’s life. He could not sleep or eat, and even found it hard to think straight. All he could dae was pace in his study, imagining what Rollo might be doing to Maddison. If it were not for the chance that he would get her back soon, he was sure he would have gone stark, raving mad.

Secretly, he managed to hold himself together long enough to make a contract, signing over the lairdship to Rollo, appending his signature and wax seals to make it all official. He had thought about trying to trick Rollo but dismissed the idea. He refused to risk Maddison’s life by not obeying Rollo’s demands to the letter. At least, that was what he had told Liam and Tadgh.

He found he did not care about losing this birthright any longer. All he cared about was Maddison, and if he had to live as an ordinary Highlander then that was what he would do, and do it happily, for her sake.

At dawn on the third day, his small party rode out, heading towards Rollo’s lands, only a couple of hours away. Tense though he was, he sent a scout ahead to seek the burnt oak and the abandoned cottage where the meet was to take place that evening at sundown. When they got to the border lands, the scout was waiting to guide them to the place. They reigned up in the low hills above the ramshackle building, which stood on a desolate piece of moorland covered with scrub. There were several men loitering outside, clearly keeping a lookout for them, ready to signal Rollo in the event of an attack.

But Odhrán had no intention of attacking. He had the contract rolled up in his coat pocket and he was on tenterhooks, desperate to see Maddison, praying she was all right.

“He’s picked a good place,” Liam commented grudgingly, scanning the landscape. “There’s nae cover at all.”

“There’s horses at the rear, tethered in the woods, me laird,” the scout, who had been searching the area again, told Odhrán on his return. “I saw movement inside. I think they’re already in there.”

They waited in intense silence, the only sounds the cries of the birds, the breeze riffling through the bushes, and the occasional whinnies and snorts of the horses. His jaw clenched, Odhrán watched the sun drop painstakingly slowly below the horizon.

“Let’s go,” he finally commanded, riding at the head of his party, flanked by Liam and Tadgh, down the shallow incline and into the clearing before the cottage.

Rollo’s reception committee met them as they dismounted, and their horses were led away and tied to a nearby fence.

“Throw down yer weapons,” the one in charge demanded, whom Odhrán surmised was one of Rollo’s lieutenants.

“Dae as he says,” Odhrán commanded, unbuckling his sword belt and throwing it down to the ground a few feet away. His men followed suit.

“Search them,” the lieutenant ordered, gesturing to his men. Odhrán put his arms above his head and allowed himself to be patted down, the others following his lead.

“They’re clean, Sir,” one of the searchers reported back.

“All right. Ye can go in,” the lieutenant told Odhrán with a nod, opening the door to the cottage and standing aside. “But dinnae try anythin’ stupid. Me and me men are right behind ye,” he warned.

Odhrán stepped into the interior of the cottage, closely followed by Tadgh and Liam, with the others behind them. Several lamps illuminated the scene before him. His eyes went immediately to the slight figure being held back by two men as she tried to break free and run to him, her arms pinned behind her.

“Maddison! Are ye all right? Has he hurt ye?” he called to her, his insides lurching violently. His hands flexed as he fought down the urge to run to her and take her in his arms. But a grinning Rollo, a hefty henchman at each side of him, was blocking the way.

“Odhrán!” she cried, her face creasing up as she sobbed with obvious relief at his presence. “Thank God ye came.”

His eyes took in her disheveled appearance, which was so unusual for her. Her hair was down and hung in wild rattails. Her cheeks were deathly pale, her lip was swollen, and there were marks on her face. She had clearly been hit.

“What have ye done tae her, ye bastard?” Odhrán growled at Rollo, baring his teeth at him, wanting to rip him from limb to limb.

“Are ye deaf? Did she nae just tell she’s alright?” Rollo taunted.

“What are those marks on her?” Odhrán demanded.

Rollo laughed nastily, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, ye must ken yersel’ what a wee spitfire she is. She would nae shut up, so I had tae silence her.”

All Odhrán’s instincts came to the fore at his cousin’s mocking words, and he moved forward, ready to strike, only to feel two hands land heavily on his shoulders, holding him back.

“Stay calm,” Tadgh whispered. “Dinnae let him rile ye. Let’s get this done and get Maddison out of here.”

Odhrán clenched his fists and forced himself to breathe slowly, knowing Tadgh was right. Bu he silently vowed to make Rollo pay for hurting Maddison.

“Dinnae fear, Maddy, ye’ll be out of here in minute,” he promised her over Rollo’s shoulder. He could hardly bear the thought of how afraid she must be. It was all so horribly reminiscent of when his father had held a knife to her throat, threatening to kill her. Unfortunately, unlike his father, Rollo was canny enough to keep himself out of Odhrán’ reach. He glared at Rollo with all the hate in his heart.

“All right, ye coward, I have what ye want, so ye can hand her over,” he told him, pulling the contract from his pocket and throwing it contemptuously at Rollo’s feet. Rollo gestured with his head for the man on his right to pick it up and hand it to him. He took his time looking it over.

Then, he nodded, tucking the contract inside his coat. “I told ye I’d have the lairdship, did I nae, Coz? Ye thought ye could take what’s mine, what yer faither always wanted me tae have because he kent his own son wasnae up tae the job,” he sneered.

Suddenly, there was a scuffle behind him. “Dinnae give it tae him, Odhrán!” Maddison yelled, fighting her captors to get loose. “I ken how hard ye’ve worked tae be a good laird. Dinnae give intae this madman. Ye’re Laird Lennox, nae him, the monster! Let me go, ye pig!” She bit one of her captors on the arm as he tried to restrain her, and the man bellowed in pain, losing his grip on her.