Chapter Four
While Elspeth had never traveled across the border before, she knew her geography.
She was certain they’d passed through Cumberland and Westmorland and were now entering Yorkshire.
They’d passed what the English considered mountains, which were smaller than the ones Callen described.
He’d regaled her with tales of traversing the Cairngorms each time he traveled between the Highlands and Lowlands.
She and her captors rode past several lochs she feared they might toss her into.
Now they approached expansive, misty heather-covered moorland.
But what really took her breath away were the deep valleys cut through stone with narrow and twisting rivers at their base where fog hung heavily.
She feared being tossed into one of those more than she did the seemingly bottomless lochs.
As she swept her gaze over her surroundings, she spied fells, or barren mountains, in the distance.
They’d had fair weather until now, so she was thankful she hadn’t had to ride while drenched even if the heavy fog left her damp.
From the way the wildflowers blossomed, she knew it must have rained recently.
They grew alongside stone walls that had clearly stood for generations.
But despite that sign of inhabitants, she’d seen no one during their travels.
The men who abducted her clearly chose a route to avoid suspicion or any chance for her to seek aid.
“We stop here,” the group’s leader announced.
“But we’re so close. We can be there in an hour.” The man Elspeth had vomited on wanted nothing more than to be away from the woman who tormented him more than he did her. He could still smell the remnants of her disobedience.
“We go no farther until we get paid. Money first, then the woman.” The leader’s insistent tone made the other man back down. “We make camp here while Steven and Nigel ride into Swaledale to find the Earl of Atholl.”
It was the first time Elspeth heard the name of the man who’d commissioned her abduction.
She’d overheard the leader and the man called Nigel discussing her future the previous night.
She learned Strathbogie and Maxwell both wished to marry her.
They both wanted to force her father into an alliance, thinking they’d march across Elliot land, then launch a campaign against the Scots.
They thought they’d kill her father and force her younger brothers to bend to their will.
He’d survived living along the border his entire life.
He’d been a laird for more than a score of years. He wasn’t new to fighting the English.
“Tie her to the tree.” Two men obeyed the leader’s order and pulled her from her saddle.
They’d learned one person wasn’t enough when she kicked a man in the face and broke his nose before spurring her horse.
But her captors outnumbered her by far too many for her to escape.
She’d hissed and snapped her teeth when another kidnapper tried to lift her down.
She’d head-butted him and blackened his eye.
After those two encounters the first night, at least two men approached her now.
“Do you think we’ll get the money tonight or in the morning?” A man whispered over her head to his partner.
“I just hope we get paid at all. I don’t trust either of those lords. I believe they’ll cheat us out of our coin. It’s why Samuel wants us to get paid first.”
Although the men now spoke freely in front of her, she’d only learned a handful of names.
She knew none of their surnames. If she got free, she wouldn’t be able to identify them without seeing them.
It frustrated her that no one had rescued her yet.
It frustrated her that she had so little to share when she got free.
And it infuriated her that she couldn’t escape.
Callen had dedicated hours teaching her how to defend herself, and the first time someone threatened her, she’d failed to evade them.
Her situation worsened when her abductors captured her, and she couldn’t escape them.
She knew she wouldn’t disappoint Callen, but she disappointed herself.
She wanted Callen to be proud of her, to believe she was strong enough and brave enough to one day be Lady Sutherland, the Countess of Sutherland.
“After the way she’s hissed and snarled at us, casting up her accounts on anyone nearby, and her violent streak, I’ll be happy to be done with her,” one man mused as he tightened the rope around her and the tree.
She never slept deeply because she trusted none of them, but she forced herself to doze because she didn’t want to drop from her saddle with exhaustion.
Sleeping so lightly meant she heard approaching footsteps when none of the other men did.
They were a faint rustle barely noticeable over her abductors’ snoring.
She didn’t know if whoever approached was friend or foe.
She refused to risk being unprepared if people who’d attack their camp stole her away from her captors and did far worse to her.
Her gaze swept over the fire and slumbering forms. It was awkward, but she pulled a dirk from her garter and sawed at the rope, praying she could get free of her restraints before the hidden menace struck.
“Elsie, wheest, wee one. It’s me.”
Elspeth froze. There was only one person who called her Elsie. Even if she hadn’t heard the nickname, she recognized the accented baritone. She felt the rope securing her to the tree go slack while she worked furiously to carve through the rope around her wrists.
“Cal?”
“Aye, lass. Wheest.”
He’d told her to be quiet twice. She didn’t want to force him to say it a third time.
But she’d needed confirmation that she wasn’t imagining his presence.
Strong hands wrapped around her biceps from behind, helping her to her feet.
She’d loosened her bindings enough to shake them loose.
They further unraveled and dropped to the ground.
She allowed Callen to guide her backward and away from the tree.
She swallowed her shock when he spun her and hefted her over his shoulder.
He retreated into the surrounding forest. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he was a wraith from how he arrived and left with so little trace.
When they were away from the camp, and Callen no longer feared someone hearing them or spying them, he lowered her to her feet.
He pulled her against him, and she gladly wrapped her arms around his neck.
They came together in a kiss far more urgent than any they’d shared before.
They’d always been fearful someone would spy them, so they’d kept their kisses quick, even if they weren’t chaste.
They’d reasoned they might keep Callen alive if someone caught them talking, even when they weren’t supposed to be.
If someone caught them kissing, he’d be dead before she could defend him.
Now, they cared not. Nothing was going to keep them from their reunion.
Their tongues dueled as they clung to one another.
Elspeth’s hands cupped his jaw as his ran over her body, savoring each curve.
When he reached her bottom, she pressed harder against him, arching her back.
Her right hand tunneled into his hair while her left fisted his doublet.
She didn’t like the feel of it compared to his leine and plaid, but her hazy mind registered he couldn’t wear his Highlander garb in England and survive.
Callen lifted her once again, but this time her legs wrapped around his waist. He found the hem of her gown and slid his hands up the back of her thighs until he could squeeze her bare behind.
Their kisses grew wilder, neither remembering the world around them, neither caring about the risk.
At least not for a couple minutes. But they both returned to reality, knowing they risked capture if they lingered.
Elspeth attempted to release Callen, but he shook his head.
It was pure torture for both of them when he walked with her sheath rubbing against his rod with each step.
But one set of footsteps made less sound than two, and Callen was far surer-footed than Elspeth.
He pressed his lips to her ear so he could whisper, praying his words would be clear.
“I could wait nay longer once I kenned I’d found ye.
I noticed hoofprints and snapped twigs while I was hunting.
I slipped away from our camp to come to ye.
Bless the saints, Elsie. I missed ye. I’ve been nearly out of ma mind with fear for ye.
I willna let those men get away with what they did.
But more than aught, I wish to hold ye and never let ye go. ”
“I won’t let go of you, so you don’t need to worry aboot me going anywhere. I refuse to.”
“We canna linger since we’re nearly back to camp. Yer father and mine believe I’m on patrol. But I dinna want to wait to tell ye something, and I dinna need an audience when I do.”
Elspeth leaned away, relying on the obscured moonlight to make his face visible, even if it was in the shadows. She rested her palm against his cheek, her thumb sweeping over his stubble. She tightened her legs around his trim waist, and he pulled her tighter against his body.
“I love ye, Elsie.”
“I love ye, Cal.”
They spoke at the same time. She’d prayed she hadn’t misjudged what he’d tell her, but she wanted them to make their declarations together. She never wanted him to wonder if she said it to him only because he said it first. She wanted him to know her feelings matched his.
“St. Columba’s bones, Elsie. I want to hear ye tell me that every day for the rest of ma days.”
“I shall tell you that here and when we meet again in the Lord’s heavenly kingdom. I’ll say it every day if you’ll listen.”
“I’ll listen any and every time ye say it, mo ghaol.”
“What does that mean?”
“My love, mo chridhe.”
Elspeth raised her eyebrows.