CHAPTER 9
Margaret awoke from a deep sleep to find herself lying flat on her back with the Highlander leaning over her.
“Have a good sleep, m' eudail?” my treasure, he asked with a wicked grin.
She had no notion where she was or, more importantly, how she came to be in this position. The last thing she remembered was riding through the night. She blinked, struggling to clear her head, but it was hard to gather herself while staring up into those deep blue eyes.
“Please move so I can get up,” she said, doing her best to pretend she did not feel the least bit awkward about finding herself practically lying under her kidnapper. “And I am not your treasure.”
“Ye are a treasure to me—or ye will be once I deliver ye,” he said with a wink, and offered his hand to help her sit up. “So ye speak the Gaelic? I suppose that means ye understood all my cursing as well.”
“Quite well, as a matter of fact.” After their former king learned Gaelic to win the hearts of the Highlanders, her family required her to learn it in the hope of winning his.
“That will make things easier for ye where we’re going.” With a smile in his voice, he added, “M' eudail.” My treasure.
“Where’s Ella?” she blurted out, suddenly remembering she had a daughter. Her hand went to her chest. “God forgive me, I’m a terrible mother!”
“’Tis all right. The wee lass is right here.” The Highlander put an arm around Margaret’s shoulders and turned her to the side.
When she saw Ella a few feet away busily playing with a pile of sticks, Margaret was able to breathe again.
“She helped me gather moss for our fire, didn’t ye, Ella?” he said. “Now she’s sorting the sticks for me, big to small.”
Ella looked up from her task and gave the Highlander a serious nod. Margaret was surprised he made such an effort to entertain Ella and succeeded so well.
“She’s a fine helper, she is,” he said.
Ella swelled with the compliment. This Highlander certainly knew how to win over her daughter. Though Margaret would not succumb to his charm herself, it warmed her heart to see Ella so content.
“Shall we make some porridge?” he asked Ella. “’Tis almost noon, but we slept so late we missed our breakfast.”
We slept? She swallowed hard when she looked down and saw a long dent on the other half of the blanket. Good heavens, the Highlander had slept right beside her. And there were more nights ahead. She really had not thought this through when she decided to escape with him.
Before she could recover from that revelation, Ella started to run past her. She caught her for a moment and gave her a hug, a sweet reminder that Ella was worth the risks she was taking.
A short time later, the Highlander and Ella were side by side before the fire, in deep contemplation of the bubbling oats.
“Would ye say ’tis ready?” he asked.
Ella answered by holding out her bowl.
“Careful. ’Tis hot,” he warned as he gave her a scoop, then he scooped up another bowlful for Margaret.
“Thank you.” Margaret felt awkward having him wait on her. She was accustomed to being the one who took care of others, and she did not know any men, other than servants, who cooked.
When Ella got up to chase after a butterfly, Margaret decided to use the opportunity to learn more about this Highlander who, at least for a short while, held their fate in his hands. Men always enjoyed talking about themselves, so it should not be difficult.
“I don’t know your name,” she said, thinking his clan name would give her a clue as to who he was and where he was taking her.
“Finlay,” he said. “Most people call me Finn.”
So much for that. She would have to try another tack.
“Ye seem like a good man, Finn,” she began, hoping flattery would help.
“Do I?” he asked with a gleam in his eye. “Women don’t usually tell me how good I am until after we’ve been to bed.”
She refrained from rolling her eyes. “What I mean is that ye don’t seem the sort to kidnap women, and ye made it clear ye didn’t want to. So why are you doing this?”
“’Tis a long tale, but it comes down to this,” he said. “I agreed to kidnap ye in exchange for lands of my own.”
She was surprised he did not gild his answer in a pretense of duty to his clan or some other high-minded justification. That saved her from having to gently probe until he revealed his true reason.
“So,” he said, giving her a devilish grin that made her stomach do a strange flip, “don’t go mistaking me for a good man.”
At least he was honest about it, which was better than most men.
“Ye make a fine porridge,” she said, as she scraped the last of it from her bowl. “You’re a man of many talents.”
He gave her that grin again and waggled his eyebrows.
“I know,” she said before he could speak, “most women tell ye that after you’ve spent the night together.”
She did not know what made her say that out loud. William never took teasing well, but the Highlander responded by throwing his head back and laughing.
“Well, lass,” he said, “we did sleep together.”
Her cheeks went hot. She thought again of that dent in the blanket beside her and wondered how many more nights they would share that blanket. What would she do if he tried to seduce her? While she was contemplating that prospect, he took her bowl from her.
“I can clean up,” she said, and started to get up.
“Even after I kidnapped you and your daughter, ye cannot help being polite, can ye?” He gave her an amused smile. “Well, we kidnappers have our rules of courtesy as well, and I’ll not put ye to work.”
With quick efficiency, he washed their bowls in the stream and then returned to sit beside her.
“You’re good with Ella,” Margaret said as she watched the small girl try and miss catching the butterfly again. “Have ye children of your own?”
“Ach, no!” He gave a dry laugh. “At least I’ve succeeded in avoiding that.”
“But ye must want children one day,” she said.
“Nay.”
She was taken aback by the certainty of his tone. The men she knew considered it their duty to sire heirs and took pride in the number of their offspring as a reflection of their manhood.
“Why not?” she asked, turning to look at him. The question seemed a bit rude, but she was curious.
“I might turn out to be a father like my own,” he said. “I wouldn’t do that to a child.”
“What is your father like?” she asked.
“Drunk and miserable,” he said with a laugh.
“Ye need not be like him.”
“Alas, I fear I would, as a bairn comes with a mother,” he said. “The bairn would bind me to her. As a wife, even.” He actually shuddered.
“Would that be so terrible?” She couldn’t help smiling.
“Aye, it would,” he said. “A wife would be like an anchor around my neck.”
Her smile died on her lips. His words were too near to what her husband said of her the night he threw her out. Before she could hide her reaction, the Highlander touched her arm. It was a light touch, and yet his hand left a heated imprint on her skin right through her sleeve.
She shifted her gaze away from him and called to Ella. “Don’t go too far!”
“What have I done?” he asked.
“Other than kidnapping me and carrying me off in the middle of the night?”
Her attempt to divert him with a jest did not succeed, judging by the furrow between his dark brows. Another man would never have looked past her smile. She would have to be more careful with this Highlander.
She stood up and for the first time really took in her surroundings. In the distance, she could see the sea coast, which made no sense at all.
“Ye must have taken a wrong turn,” she said. “We’re not on the road north to Stirling.”
“Nay, we’re not,” he said.
She recognized the coastline now, and they were not far from Tantallon, the Douglas stronghold. Had he lied to her from the start and intended all along to deliver her to Archie?
“But ye said ye were taking us to the Highlands,” she said, keeping her voice light with an effort.
“We’re sailing there,” he said.
She was relieved he was not taking her to her brothers, but any hope she had of escaping her kidnapper and finding her sister Sybil when they crossed MacKenzie lands were dashed.
If they traveled to the Highlands by boat, rather than through the interior, they could end up as far from her sister and MacKenzie lands as when they started.
“But…why go by sea?” she asked.
“’Tis faster to reach our destination by boat,” he said.
She remembered now that in her last letter Sybil had written that her family planned to stay at Eilean Donan Castle in the west until after their new babe was born. The kidnapper was taking her up the east coast to the opposite side of the Highlands.
“The sooner we get there, the sooner I’ll be done with this miserable task,” the Highlander said, “and the sooner you’ll be returned home.”
But Margaret had no home with her brothers.
And she was never returning.
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Finn could have sworn Lady Margaret was dismayed when he told her they were traveling by sea, though she hid it well. Perhaps she had hoped to escape if they traveled north through Edinburgh and Stirling. Or maybe she suffered from seasickness. God, he hoped not.
“Who’s Brian?” he asked. “Is that Ella’s father?”
“Brian is the son of the woman she lived with in the village,” she said. “How do ye know his name?”
“She was crying for him when she woke up.”
Lady Margaret looked so stricken that Finn had a bad moment, fearing the lass would start weeping on him.
“They were verra fond of each other,” she said with only a slight quiver in her voice. “He’s gone to sea.”
Ella returned then, sat down, and clutched her empty bowl, which he’d left out for her. Ach, she was such a quiet, wee thing. From the way she dove into the first bowl as if the porridge was the best meal she’d had in a long while, he thought she might still be hungry.
“More?” he asked her.