Chapter 5
They rode in silence for another half hour before Elijah guided the horse toward a small stream that cut through the forest. The water burbled softly over smooth stones, and the surrounding trees provided welcome shade from the midday sun.
"We'll rest here," Elijah said, dismounting first. He reached up to help Piper down, but she ignored his offered hand, sliding off the horse on her own—though not as gracefully as she might have hoped. Her legs wobbled slightly after so long in the saddle.
She moved immediately toward the stream, putting distance between them. Kneeling by the water's edge, she cupped her hands and drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat. Behind her, she could hear Elijah tending to the horse, speaking to it in low, gentle tones.
Piper glanced back at him. He wasn't watching her. Wasn't hovering. He'd simply let her go to the water while he saw to the animal's needs. It was... unexpected.
"There's some bread and cheese in the saddlebag if ye're hungry," Elijah called without turning around.
She wasn't. Her stomach was still twisted in knots. But she appreciated that he'd offered. Appreciated even more that he wasn't trying to force anything on her.
Piper stared at her reflection in the water. The woman looking back at her seemed like a stranger—hair tangled, face smudged with dirt, eyes wide with lingering fear and confusion. Just days ago, she'd been returning home with her wages, dreaming of escape. Now...
Now what? Was she truly free? Or was this just another trap, more elaborate than the last?
She looked back at Elijah again. He'd sat down beneath a tree, giving the horse a rest, his eyes scanning the forest around them—alert, watchful, but not focused on her. He could have grabbed her a dozen times by now. Could have done... anything. But he hadn't.
"We should move on soon," Elijah said after a few more minutes, rising to his feet. "We've still got a fair distance to cover before nightfall."
Piper stood as well, brushing off her skirts. As he helped her back onto the horse—and this time she accepted his hand—a plan began forming in her mind.
She would test him. Truly test him.
They'd been riding for another hour in tense silence when Piper finally spoke.
"Stop the horse."
Elijah kept his expression neutral, even as Piper's words sent a jolt of alarm through his chest. “What?”
“Ye heard me.” Piper’s voice was sharp, challenging. “Ye said I could leave whenever I wanted. Well, I want to leave. Now. So stop the horse and let me off.”
Stubborn, contrary lass.
Elijah pulled on the reins, bringing the horse to a halt. They were in the middle of open countryside—rolling hills dotted with purple heather, a few scraggly trees in the distance, and nothing that looked like shelter or safety.
“Here?” he asked. “Ye want me to let ye off here?”
“Aye, here.” She twisted to look at him, her gray eyes defiant. “Unless ye were lyin’ about lettin’ me go. Were ye lyin’, Laird McMahon?”
]
Aye.
]
“Nay, I wasnae lyin’.” Elijah swung his leg over the horse’s back and dismounted, then reached up to help Piper down. “Come on then, lass.”
She stared at his outstretched hands, as if they might bite her. Then, slowly, she leaned forward and let him grasp her waist. He lifted her down easily—too easily, really.
She weighed almost nothing despite being full bodied, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
How long were they starvin’ her?
The moment her feet touched the ground, Piper stepped back, putting distance between them. Her chin lifted, and despite the fear he could see flickering in her eyes, she met his gaze without flinching.
“There. Ye’ve let me go. I’m free.”
“Aye, ye are.” Elijah crossed his arms over his chest. “And now ye’re standin’ in the middle of nowhere with nay food, nay water, nay supplies, and nay idea which direction to go.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Will ye?” He nodded toward the horizon.
“That way leads to the McCulloch lands. Beautiful countryside, but there are bandits in those hills who’d sell ye right back to men like Lewis.
Maybe worse.” He turned, pointing in another direction.
“That way takes ye toward the coast. Three days’ walk, if ye daenae get lost. Longer if ye do. ”
Piper’s jaw tightened. “I daenae need yer help.”
“And that way—” Elijah ignored her, gesturing toward the third direction, “—leads back toward where we came from. Right into the arms of anyone who might be lookin’ for escaped prisoners from that hunt.”
“I can manage, and I can run,” Piper said.
“Just ken, Lewis and his men are neither dead nor in chains.” Elijah let that sink in. “And even if he is dead, there are others involved in that operation. Men who paid money and dinnae get what they wanted. Men who might be very interested in findin’ stray lasses wanderin’ the countryside alone.”
He watched the color drain from Piper’s face and hated himself for putting it there. But she needed to understand. Needed to see that her pride was going to get her killed.
“I’ll… I’ll be careful,” she said, but her voice wavered.
“Ye’ll be dead within a week.” Elijah kept his tone matter-of-fact. “Maybe less, if ye’re unlucky.”
“Better dead than—” she stopped, biting her lip.
“Than what? In me care?” He took a step toward her, and she immediately backed up. Elijah stopped, holding his hands up. “What exactly do ye think I’m goin’ to do to ye, Piper?”
“I daenae ken, do I? That’s the problem.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Ye keep sayin’ ye just want to help, but nobody helps for nothin’. There’s always a price. Always somethin’ they want.”
“Maybe with the people ye’ve ken so far. But nae with me.”
“Prove it.”
“How?” Elijah asked, genuinely curious. “What would it take to make ye believe me?”
Piper was quiet for a long moment, her gaze searching his face. “Vow it.”
“I already did.”
“Nae properly.” She straightened her shoulders. “Vow on yer life that ye’ll protect me. That ye willnae touch me without permission. And that I’m free to leave yer castle anytime I choose, for any reason, and ye willnae stop me.”
Elijah felt something twist in his chest at those words. The thought of her leaving, of watching her walk away from Castle McMahon and never seeing her again—it shouldn’t bother him. He barely knew this lass. Had only met her yesterday.
But it did bother him. More than it should.
Daenae be a fool. She’s nae for ye.
“All right,” he said. “I, Elijah Quinn, Laird of Clan McMahon, vow on me clan’s name and honor that I will protect ye, Piper Armstrong, to the best of me ability.
I vow that I willnae touch ye without yer permission.
And I vow that ye are free to leave Castle McMahon at any time, for any reason, and I willnae stop ye or pursue ye. ”
Piper’s eyes widened slightly. She clearly hadn’t expected him to actually do it.
“That… that’s a bindin’ oath,” she said quietly. “If ye break it…”
“Then I dishonor meself and me clan.” Elijah nodded. “Aye, I ken what it means, lass. That’s why I made it.”
She studied him for another long moment, and he could practically see her mind working through the implications.
A laird’s vow was sacred; everyone knew that. To break one was to invite ruin not just on himself but on his entire clan.
No man would make such a vow lightly.
“Why?” she finally asked. “Why would ye bind yerself like that for someone ye barely ken?”
Because ye deserve it. Because ye’ve been hurt enough. Because somethin’ about ye calls to me in a way I daenae understand and cannae ignore.
But he couldn’t say any of that.
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Elijah said instead.
Piper let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “Ye’re either the most honorable man I’ve ever met or the most foolish.”
“Maybe both.” He tilted his head, studying her. “So. Now that I’ve made me vow, what do ye say? Will ye come with me to Castle McMahon? Or are ye still determined to take yer chances out here alone?”
She looked around at the empty countryside, then back at him. He could see the war playing out across her face—pride versus survival, stubbornness versus practicality.
“If I go with ye,” she said slowly, “ye must give me the opportunity to pay be back. In some way. I willnae accept yer charity otherwise. Ye daenae expect me to just… sit around bein’ grateful.”
There’s the spirit.
“Nay, I daenae expect that,” Elijah paused, an idea forming. It was risky—bringing her into his home, into his children’s lives, but something about it felt right. “What if I offered ye a position?”
“A position?” Suspicion crept back into her voice. “What kind of position?”
“The kind with a contract. Official terms. A proper wage.” He watched her carefully. “Would that make ye feel better about acceptin’ me help? If it were a business arrangement instead of charity?”
“That depends on what kind of business ye’re talkin’ about.”
“The legitimate kind.” Elijah almost smiled at her wariness. Almost. “Tell me, lass. Can ye read?”
The question seemed to catch her off guard. “What?”
“Can ye read? And write?”
“Aye, I can.” Pride crept into her voice. “I can read English and Latin, and I can speak French. I ken how to do figures too, and—” she stopped abruptly, as if realizing she’d said too much.
Elijah’s eyebrows rose. “That’s… quite an education for a lass from a small village.”
“A neighbor taught me.” Piper’s hand went to the necklace at her throat. “Before she died. She said every woman should ken how to better herself.”
“Yer neighbor was a wise woman.” Elijah made a mental note to ask about that necklace later—it looked too fine for a villager’s daughter to own. “And her teachings give ye exactly the qualifications I need.”
“For what?”
“Be me bairns’ governess.”
Piper stared at him. “Yer… what?”