Page 53 of To Win a Highlander’s Heart

“There will be time for that later. For now, we must focus on Isolde.”

Orrick felt some of his tension ease. “Thank you for your help, Aria.”

“While wandering the wilderness since my arrival, I discovered a faster way to the cliffs where I suspect Lieutenant Collins is taking Isolde. It is shorter, but far more treacherous.”

“Show me.” Orrick didn’t care about the additional risk. If it closed the distance between himself and Isolde, it was an advantage he couldn’t pass up.

*

Isolde was cold and terrified as she and Lieutenant Collins rode past the rock formation, and the jagged coastline came back into view. He headed straight towards the cliff’s edge, then brought his horse to a stop. “If anyone dared to follow you from camp, not only will they arrive too late, they will never see us behind these rocks.” He dismounted and pulled Isolde to the ground. “Get up and come with me.”

“Nay,” she forced out past her gag. She had no reason to cooperate. She’d make killing her as difficult as she possibly could with her hands tightly bound before her.

Wind billowed up from the Sound of Raasay to buffet Isolde’s hair about her face. She wished she could pull it back to see the lieutenant better, but she could imagine the look of displeasure on his face. She lifted her chin, refusing to let him see how frightened she was in this moment.

“You’ll do what you’re told.” He drew her forward with a painful grip on her arm, towards the edge of the cliff.

Isolde dug her heels into the rocky ground, fighting him. The injury she’d delivered to his thigh made him wince as he struggled to pull harder. Which gave Isolde an idea. She went limp instead, sending the lieutenant stumbling. When he came back to her, prepared to drag her again, she kicked out, striking his injury.

He howled in pain as he clutched his thigh.

Isolde was instantly on her feet, running. There was nowhere to hide, and she wouldn’t make it far before he recovered and came after her on his horse, but she would delay his plans, and hope for a miracle.

Unless he decided to simply strike her down where she stood, instead of along the dramatic cliffside. Her heart in her throat, she ran as fast as she could while working the tight ropes that bound her wrists.

Her breath came in bursts, as she struggled to pull air into her lungs around the filthy rag in her mouth. Behind her she heard hoofbeats a heartbeat before the lieutenant’s hand reached down and jerked her off her feet by the hair, propelling her forward.

“I should kill you right now for that stunt, except that I want to throw your headless body over the cliff to be discovered by Orrick MacLeod.” A smirk came to his lips. “That will destroy him, and in turn the MacLeods.”

The lieutenant turned his horse, dragging her by her hair, and returned to the cliffs. He released her and dismounted before she could scramble to her feet. He drew his sword and instead of swinging the blade against her neck, he struck her with the hilt, forcing her back to the ground. She drew in several short, sharp breaths, trying to force the dizziness and nausea that swamped her away.

Lieutenant Collins grabbed another length of rope from his saddlebag and, taking her feet in his hands, bound them together. She kicked and writhed, but in the end, his strength overpowered her as she struggled to stay conscious.

When he was done, he sliced the gag covering her mouth, nicking her cheek. Even as she filled her lungs with fresh sea air, warm blood trickled down her cheek and neck. “When you first joined our little company as a spy, I had hoped to eventually make you mine.” He ran his fingers across the cut.

She jerked her head away, trying to contain the terror that pounded in her chest. “I would rather die than let you touch me like that.”

He brought the tip of his sword against her chest, pricking her once more. A blotch of red blossomed on the bodice of her gown. “You’ll die, all right. As will Orrick MacLeod, and eventually all the MacLeods for refusing to acknowledge the English king. Once I report what has happened here, skewed appropriately in my favour, King George will send more regiments to not only undo the MacLeods, but all the Scots who defy him.”

Isolde shook her head. “Even if you kill me, the MacLeods would never allow that to happen. They will do whatever it takes to stop you and your men.”

“I’m counting on that.” Lieutenant Collins sneered. “I’m fairly certain Orrick MacLeod will be heroic enough to follow you here and gallantly try to save you.”

Fear shivered down her spine. If Orrick could, she knew he would follow her here, whether he was ready to face his demons or not. In order to defeat the lieutenant, he’d have to once again be the warrior he was before he left for the West Indies. She knew he could be, but would he have that realisation for himself?

Would it be better for her to take matters into her own hands and end this now before the lieutenant could harm the man she loved?

Her heart stumbled at the thought. A momentary smile came to her lips. The last few days with Orrick had been a gift she’d never thought she would have or even deserved. She’d learned that she was loveable and capable, no matter what her brother and the other warriors had told her all her life, and that happiness could exist for her—however short-lived. Joining her body with Orrick’s had opened her to sensations beyond her wildest imagination.

In those quiet, precious moments, a part of her soul had merged with his, making him an inextricable part of herself. For that, she would be forever grateful even unto death. Meanwhile, she’d hold that feeling in her heart as she forced her panicked wits to steady and do what she had to do.

There was one last move she could carry out to guarantee Orrick remained safe, but it would come at the expense of her own life. She did not want to die—not when most everything in her life had turned in her favour. With no other options, Isolde lunged forward, hitting the lieutenant in the legs, knocking him off balance.

His face empurpled, then contorted in a snarl as she rolled across the ground and he fell backwards, towards the cliff’s edge.

Chapter Nineteen

The trail Aria had suggested they take with their horses was nothing more than a razor’s edge along the red sandstone cliff. Below them the earth fell away at a sharp angle that dropped onto jagged rocks far below. Orrick had never feared heights, but a less desperate man might have sanely turned back to more steady ground.