Three
Gordon had not expected the attack. He had anticipated anger, perhaps a tear or two—but an attempt to neuter him?
He dropped to one knee. For one sharp, dizzy moment he couldn’t breathe let alone think. She had a surprising amount of strength and determination for a woman, not to mention that he felt as if she’d struck him with a brick.
Meanwhile, she’d taken off running in the opposite direction of the school.
Through the haze of pain, Gordon realized the contradiction.
Where the devil was she going? There was nothing surrounding the school but woods—She was running away.
The moment he had the thought, he knew it to be true. The question now was where was she running to, or to whom? Young girls didn’t take off on their own. There had to be a secret lover waiting in the forest. He knew that if she reached him, he would lose his best opportunity to reclaim the sword.
Gordon stood and took off after her. Although he ran like a lame bear, his longer legs outpaced her before she reached the treeline.
This side of the house was dark and deserted, so there was no one to shout out when Gordon tackled Constance around the waist just as she was turning to see if he’d followed.
He fell on top of her, his body weight pinning her down.
For a second the air was knocked out of them both, but Gordon was taking no chances. He slapped his palm over her lips.
“Don’t,” he warned. “Not one word.”
She put up a struggle, hitting him again and again with her bundle.
These blows were not as mortal as the first had been, and he easily fended them off, yanking her bundle out of her hand.
“What do you have in here?” he snapped, shaking the bundle so the knot came loose.
The contents spilled out, clothes, shoes, money—“A book?” he said in disbelief.
“You almost neutered me with a book?” He tossed it aside and came to his feet, bringing her up with him.
She twisted her arm and pulled, bending this way and that, trying to escape.
He held fast. “Miss Constance, I don’t know where you were running off to but you are mine now—”
Gordon broke off as he realized she held a knife in her other hand. Moonlight glinted off a blade sharp enough to skin a rabbit.
She slashed out at him. He registered her movement in time to jump back, just barely keeping his hold on her. He grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the knife and used plain, brute strength to force her fingers to drop it.
He kicked it aside. With an angry sound, she lunged for it, but he yanked her back.
Her carefully coiffured hair now tumbled down around her shoulders. Her eyes were bright with fury. She attempted to kick out but he whipped her around to hold her firmly.
“Where did you keep that knife, lass? Do you have other weapons?” He made no apology as he subdued her with one arm while his other hand ran along the contours of her body in a quick search.
His purpose was the sexless one of survival, and yet he was aware of her womanly curves. Too aware. He went hard, a reassurance that she, thankfully, hadn’t gelded him…however, she also felt the movement.
She drew a sharp breath.
He could feel the pounding of her heart. Her breasts were tight and full from their struggles. The curve of her buttocks nestled his hardness.
This was more dangerous than her attack.
Colster would want the girl back with her virginity intact.
Still, it had been a long time since Gordon had felt this strong a need.
He had a strong, almost overwhelming urge to bury himself to the hilt inside Constance Cameron.
The sooner he handed her off for someone else to take care of, the better—
A sharp elbow in his side brought him back to attention.
In God’s name— The girl had the strength of ten men when she decided to use it. Gordon lost his hold and she took off running—this time toward the house.
He cursed his own male nature and ran after her. Once again he caught her handily. She opened her mouth to scream but this time he didn’t waste time on niceties. He pulled a kerchief from Robbie’s coat pocket and stuffed it in her mouth.
Miss Constance almost gagged, and he didn’t blame her. He heaved her over his shoulder and started walking toward the woods. She tried to buck herself off his shoulder, to free an arm and hit him, but Gordon wasn’t letting go of her again.
He no longer feared a lover was close at hand to save her. Whoever she’d been running off to meet couldn’t have witnessed him manhandling her and stood by. He either wasn’t there or he was a coward.
Gordon reached the shelter of the forest, then gave her a good, hard smack on her rear. “Stop it,” he whispered furiously. “You will only make this more difficult for yourself.”
Her response was to shove her hip at his head. He ended that nonsense by resettling her on his shoulder so her head hung even farther downward.
As he moved in the direction of the horses, Thomas and Robbie fell in by his side.
Thomas’s eyes glittered with savage amusement. “Enjoying yourself?” he said.
Gordon dumped Miss Constance into the giant’s arms. “You carry her,” he ordered. “Did you see her attempt to gut me?” He should have known. They probably had a good laugh at his expense.
“With that wee knife?” Thomas asked. “Aye, we watched a good bit of it. We would have helped but you appeared to be having a good time.” Miss Constance was finding it harder to free herself from the giant.
Thomas’s arms were longer and he proudly used his superior height and strength.
“You are out of practice with the ladies, Gordon. If you are having trouble with a wee lass—”
His words were cut short as Miss Constance freed her hand and smacked his chin with the heel of it.
Caught by surprise, Thomas dropped her. “Hellion,” he hissed. He never could take a blow to the face.
She landed on her feet like a cat and would have been off if she hadn’t taken a moment to pull Robbie’s kerchief from her mouth.
She made a face. “That is the nastiest thing—” She spat on the ground with the grace of a guardsman, giving Gordon the opportunity to catch her again. He grabbed her arm at the wrist.
By now they were far enough away from the school so he could talk without keeping his voice down. “Stop it,” he ordered.
Her answer was to whip her head around, her flying hair a weapon. She wasn’t one to give up easily.
Gordon took her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. “Miss Constance, you can make this difficult or easy. It’s your choice.”
“My choice is to leave,” she said defiantly, and would have pushed away, but Gordon held tight, wisely keeping an arm’s distance between himself and her knees.
“You can’t, lass,” he said. “You are a prisoner of the Clan MacKenna. You will be our guest until the Duke of Colster meets our demands.” He braced himself for her to fight harder, expecting more scratching and kicking.
Instead, her struggle ceased. “A prisoner?” She glanced at all of them in the dark. “Are you kidnapping me?” she asked as she pushed her hair back from her eyes and righted her dress.
“Aye,” Gordon answered. “And you will stay with us until your ransom is paid.”
“By whom?” she wondered aloud.
“The Duke of Colster,” Gordon answered.
“I barely know him.”
A fit of vapors he would have understood. This cool, logical response put him on guard. “His brother is your brother-in-law Lord Phillip.”
Miss Constance shook her head. “I don’t know the duke but I don’t like my brother-in-law at all. I doubt if either of them will pay a ransom. You’d best let me go.”
“I will,” Gordon said, “after the ransom is paid.”
“Well, don’t ask for much, because you won’t see any money,” she said as cool as you please.
“I’ll take my chances.” The Duke of Colster had once been part of the clan. Gordon knew what sort of man Colster was. He’d pay any price for a kinsman.
A horse nickered from where Brian waited.
Miss Constance’s head turned in the direction of the sound. “Horses,” she breathed, as if discovering the Holy Grail. “They are yours?”
“Aye.” Gordon didn’t trust this new eagerness in her voice.
“We should go, then,” she said, her words a command. “My disappearance could be discovered.” She would have walked off, Robbie and Thomas at her heels, except Gordon still held her fast.
She glanced at his hand on her shoulder. “Are we leaving?” she asked impatiently. “Or are we going to stand here yammering all night?”
Yammering? Gordon had never heard of such a word. “We will leave, but when I give the order.” He wasn’t usually this prickly. He preferred for all of his men to show leadership. However, that didn’t mean he wanted his captives to take over control. Especially the female ones.
Unfortunately, at that moment a shout went up from the direction of the school. “I found a book,” a man cried, “and shoes and clothing!”
Miss Constance made an exasperated wound. “They’ve discovered I am missing. Mistress Hillary must have checked my bed.”
“There’s money here, too,” another man shouted.
“Oh, bother,” Constance said. “All my money was in my bundle.” She frowned at Gordon. “Are you ready to give that order to ride yet?”
Thomas and Robbie went bug-eyed. No one spoke to Gordon that way.
No one had ever dared.
And the worst was, there was nothing Gordon could do about it. They did have to leave.
“Mount up,” he said, his eyes not leaving Constance’s. It was her saving grace that she didn’t smile or react in any way that would make him want to throttle her.
Thomas led the way, and within seconds they reached Brian. “We’ve got to go,” Thomas told him. “An alarm’s gone up.”
“Robbie,” Gordon said, “take our prisoner up on your horse. She’ll ride with you.” He would have preferred Thomas to take care of her but feared the extra weight on top of his friend’s bulk would be too much for his horse.
Robbie hopped up into the saddle, but Miss Constance balked. “I must have my own horse.”