Page 81 of A Flawed Scotsman
Surely the guard had roused Ruari. If not, then the women would. How long would it be before they were up and checked to see if she had, indeed, gone forth with the plan?
It mattered not. Esme decided to pull a hood over her head and continue her trek, hopefully unnoticed.
It became late in the day and still no one had come after her. Esme was becoming too exhausted to continue.
Ruari had yet to catch up and she was becoming alarmed. If he didn’t come, was she brave enough to continue the rest of the way alone?
She dismounted and stretched her arms up and then leaned back to allow her back some relief. At spotting the river, she pulled the mare toward the water’s edge. Then she looked up at the sky, trying to figure out what direction would lead her toward home.
Several hours later, as the sun began to fall, Esme was sure she was lost. The sun was now behind her and she realized that for the last several hours, she had been going in the wrong direction.
Pulling on the mare’s reins, she turned the animal around. An instant later, the sound of horses made her pause. Could it be that Ruari finally caught up?
Surely, he’d picked up her trail, as she’d not been careful. Being that she’d headed in the wrong direction, however, could have proven disastrous.
As men on horseback crested a hill, she narrowed her eyes and attempted to focus on the riders. They did not look familiar.
Her heart began to quicken and her throat constricted. The men wore Mackenzie colors.
“Oh, no.” Esme looked around to see if there was anywhere to hide. They’d spotted her and picked up their pace. Esme urged the mare to go faster, which it surprisingly did. But her mount had no chance against the huge warhorses the men rode.
Finally, they caught up with her and Esme did her best to appear brave as she glared at them. “Leave me be.”
One of them narrowed his eyes and then they widened in recognition. “Ye are Fraser’s daughter.” He looked at his companions and searched the area for others.
“This could be a trap,” one of the others said and they all began scanning the surroundings.
“Why would we wish to trap ye?” Esme snapped. “I am heading home. Allow me to pass.”
“Alone?” the first man, who was probably the leader, asked.
“I prefer to travel alone,” Esme said, looking him straight in the eyes. “I do not think ye would like what would happen if ye try anything against me. I am a Ross now.”
The man’s eyebrows rose. “And yer husband knows ye are out and about alone?”
It was a dire situation and Esme knew the chances they’d allow her to continue home were slim. “I became lost. My escorts should be along shortly.”
“Ye are on Mackenzie lands, lass.” A gruff man looked at her with distaste. “Not on the edges, but well into our land.”
Her heart sank. “I would like to speak to yer laird then.” Esme fought not to cry when one of them grabbed the mare’s reins from her hands. The men surrounded her, but none attempted to touch her.
For that, she was thankful.
*
Laird Mackenzie was not physically imposing. It was his manners and expressions that made him terrifying. Madness swirled behind his gaze as he peered down at her. The low timbre of his voice seemed to reach out and rake over her skin like one hundred fingers.
“Why are ye on my lands? Why alone? Tell me what ye seek.”
“I became separated from my escorts during the night. I traveled in the wrong direction. I assure ye, they are searching for me now.”
After a moment, he looked past her to someone and jutted forward with his chin. A command of some sort because several sets of footsteps sounded, walking away.
She’d been shoved into a chair in the Mackenzie great room. Only a few guards were about, no one from the village was visiting it seemed.
Not even water had been offered to her since she’d arrived several hours earlier. Instead, she’d been ordered to sit and wait for the Mackenzie to arrive from wherever he was.
Exhaustion and hunger had set in, but she refused to ask for anything. She’d rather starve than beg for drink or food from people who may have hurt her brother.
