Page 10 of Savage Kilted Highlander

CHAPTER SEVEN

Constance awoke with a start, and was immediately conscious of her cramped, aching limbs. There was pain in her hands and arms, but when she tried to flex them to relieve it, she realized she could not. She immediately panicked and opened her eyes, and any hope that she had been having a nightmare was dashed—her wrists were tied together with rope!

Feeling eyes upon her, she raised her head, and her gaze met those of her captor. He was staring at her intently, and she shivered as cold dread filled her. He got up and came towards her, and when she saw the knife in his hand, she screamed. He stopped and looked down at the knife as though he had only just noticed it, then put it away.

Nevertheless, her heart hammered in her chest with fear when he knelt next to her, wondering what he was going to do to her. But he only took hold of her wrists with surprising gentleness and began undoing the knots, loosening the ropes a little.

The blood rushed painfully back into her hands, pins and needles stabbing her. She rubbed then briskly. “Thank you,” she murmured, unwillingly grateful to him.

Saying nothing, he rose and untied her from the tree. Then he said, “Get up, we’re leavin’.”

With some difficulty, for her legs had gone numb, she used the tree trunk to pull herself up to a standing position. She wobbled unsteadily, waiting a few minutes before the strength in her legs returned. Looking around at the horses, she realized he had already packed up the camp while she had been asleep.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“Ye dinnae need tae ken that,” he told her, attaching a long line between his horse and Lucy’s bridle, which puzzled Constance. He led her over to the horses, and before she could do anything about it, she felt his hands around her waist, and she was lifted into the air, then plonked in the saddle of his horse. Feeling unstable, she clutched at the edge of the saddle with her bound wrists. Taking no notice, he arranged her cloak over her hands, hiding the rope.

Then, to her horror, he swung himself up behind her, enclosing her body between his thighs, his arms reaching around her to take the reins. her cheeks flaming with embarrassment, for she had never been so close to a man before in her life! He walked the horses forward along a narrow trail between the trees, leading Lucy behind.

“Why must I ride with you? Why can I not ride my own horse?” she asked, trying and failing to distance herself from him. It was extremely disturbing to be crushed up against his chest, but there was simply nowhere to go. She resigned herself to putting up with it, doing her best to hold herself aloof.

“This way we’ll seem like a couple and nae draw any undue attention tae ourselves,” he explained. “And ’tis easier to hide the fact that ye’re hands are tied.” Skillfully, he guided the beasts onto a wider track.

“To hide the fact that I am your prisoner, you mean,” she replied scathingly, despising him.

“Aye, ye’ve got the idea.”

They rode in silence for what felt like hours, the hostility between them almost palpable. Constance hoped they would join the main highway at some point, and she planned to shout out for help once they did. But they did not go anywhere a highway. Instead, her captor stuck to the forest trackways. Though darkness had fallen and he had only the light of a half-moon to navigate by, he seemed to know exactly where he was going. She had no idea where they were nor in which direction they were headed. No doubt he had the route all planned out beforehand, she thought resentfully.

The April night had turned cold, and after a while, it began to rain heavily. The fat drops bounced off the leaves and cascaded onto their heads and shoulders, soaking their cloaks. “We’ll make camp for the night soon. There’s a cave up ahead,” he suddenly announced. Constance, cold, wet, and bone weary after the long ride, breathed a sigh of relief a few minutes later when they finally came upon a small clearing in the trees, and he reined in the horses.

Wiping the rain from her eyes with her sleeve, she looked around and noticed a rocky outcrop half hidden behind some bushes. He slid from the saddle and lifted her down, then pushed her towards the bushes. “Go behind them,” he instructed “and ye’ll see the cave. ’Tis nae as grand as what ye’re used tae, I’m sure, but at least we’ll be out of the rain and can dry off a bit before we get some sleep.”

He took the horses’ bridles and followed her as she lifted up her skirts and picked her way carefully to the rear of the bushes. The cave was set into the outcrop, its dark entrance yawning intimidatingly in front of her like the maw of a giant beast. It had a projecting overhang of several feet, beneath which the gravely floor was mostly dry. She guessed would provide good shelter for the horses.

Below the rocky overhang, the mouth of the cave opened up. She had to stoop a little to look inside. It was dark, but she could see enough in the little moonlight that penetrated the interior to be horrified at the thought of spending a night in there. It had a rough, earthen floor strewn with debris blown inside by the wind. Although one had to stoop to enter, it opened up inside, its craggy ceiling high enough to allow a man to stand up. It was impossible to tell how far back the surprisingly roomy cavern stretched because after the first ten feet or so, all was lost in shadow.

Constance shivered, partly from the chill and the mournful whistle of the wind as it ran around the cavern walls, and partly from the implications of the dank smell of wet animal that assaulted her nostrils. She turned to him as he hitched the horses to a bush beneath the overhang.

“Ugh, it smells horrible in there. I refuse to go in. There might be a bear or a mountain lion living in there. I know such creatures roam the wilds of Scotland and that they attack people,” she told him, resolved not to enter the cave.

“Ach, stop yer fussin’. I’ve slept in here just fine a couple of times. Trust me, there’s naethin’ in there that’s gonnae eat ye,” he replied dismissively, unloading the baggage. “Now, are ye just gonnae stand there, or are ye gonnae help me with this stuff?” He dumped the baggage at her feet and turned back to the horses, removing the saddles and tack, spreading warm blankets over the beasts’ backs, and seeing to their comfort.

She gathered up the things as instructed but remained outside the cave, still frightened to go in. Finally, with the horses settled, he came up to Constance, lugging the saddles, one beneath each arm, as though they weighed nothing.

Even in her fear, she noticed the bulging muscles of his upper body outlined beneath his wet jerkin. She averted her eyes from them, for they made her feel peculiar. “You cannot seriously expect me to spend the night in there!” she cried and backed away from the cave entrance, clutching the baggage to her chest. “I am not used to this sort of rough living, as you evidently are. I have never slept in anything except a proper bed inside a house or an inn!”

If she had expected sympathy, she was rudely disappointed.

“Ach, I dinnae have time fer this nonsense. Ye’re gonnae sleep in there whether ye like it or nae, ye spoiled wee thing. It’ll be comfy enough once we get settled. Go on, in ye go,” he said, shoving her impatiently with his elbow towards the entrance. Seeing no other choice but to obey, Constance shot him a furious glance as she ducked her head and reluctantly entered the cave. The intense chill hit her instantly. Already cold from the wind and rain, her teeth stared to chatter, and she stood shivering, rubbing her arms beneath her wet cloak in a vain attempt to warm herself. Her feet in the pretty shoes were like lumps of ice.

He followed her inside and set the saddles and tack down on a rock by the entrance. He seemed to notice her discomfort and, surprisingly, appeared to take pity on her because he said, “I admit it daesnae seem very cozy now, but it’ll warm up once I make a fire. Go and find some firewood while I get things done here, will ye? There should be some dry wood under the bushes by the entrance and under the trees.”

She stared at him, appalled. “You want me to go out there on my own, in the dark and rain, and pick up bits of wood?”

He turned to her, his eyes glinting in the little moonlight that penetrated the cave. “Would ye prefer tae freeze tae death?”

She would not, but she still did not want to go outside as he commanded. “You are taking a chance letting me go out there alone. I could take the opportunity to run away,” she told him, thinking that would change his mind. But annoyingly, he only smirked.