Chapter Eight
"What?" Dugald opened the door enough to exit, then closed it again, hoping Geordie didn't see Camille inside. He doubted he could since Camille had disappeared behind the screen. "Jail?"
"Aye, Braden said they threw Mason in the tolbooth."
"Damnation! Where is Braden?" He started down the corridor.
"In the great hall, m'laird."
Dugald descended the steps.
He spied the man pacing before the large fireplace and strode toward him. "Braden, what the devil happened? From the beginning!"
"Aye, m'laird. I scribed the missive to Chief Lindsay, just as you said.
As we waited in the common room of the inn to give it to him, he exited with a lady on his arm.
We thought she was his wife and asked the inn's proprietor to be certain.
And, aye, he said she was. So we did not ken who you had taken hostage. "
Annoyance crawled through Dugald. He was not proud that he'd decided to take a woman hostage, but he'd felt he had little choice at the time.
"And?" Dugald prompted.
"Well, we didn't give him the missive."
A bit of relief flowed into Dugald's veins. "Good."
"Good?" Braden asked hesitantly.
"Aye, of course. You made a wise decision. Go on. How did Mason get arrested?"
"Well… we went outside and watched as the Lindsays mounted their horses.
One of their men, a guard, was looking about suspiciously, then he slipped away and rushed down the street.
We followed him at a distance. By the time we arrived at the shop, your jeweled dagger lay on the counter and the owner was dropping several gold and silver coins into the thief's hand. "
Dugald released the breath he'd been holding, a spark of joy lighting within him. "In truth? You found it?"
"Aye. But when Mason declared the man a thief, said the dagger was his chief's and grabbed it off the counter, the thief fled with his payment.
And the shop owner struck Mason in the face with his fist. I joined in but so did two other men.
By the time the brawl was over, they had Mason's hands bound behind his back and sent someone for the constable.
I escaped out the back door and watched from a concealed spot as they led Mason to the tolbooth.
I did not want to leave him there, but I had to get word to you about him and about your dagger.
I kenned you would want to go and get it as soon as possible. I rode home as quickly as I could."
"Aye, you did good, and I thank you." Dugald slapped him on the shoulder and turned to William, his sword bearer.
"Have a dozen horses saddled in addition to mine own, and find enough men to fill those saddles.
Tell them to be ready to ride within the next quarter hour.
" He did not want to waste a moment. "And have Artair bring me a thousand merks.
" His treasurer would likely think him mad, but he needed enough coin to pay Mason's bail and buy back the dagger.
Though it goaded him to have to purchase his own dagger.
"You can stay and help Tòmas guard Rornoch. "
"Aye, m'laird." William hastened away.
Tòmas entered the great hall from outside and joined Dugald, who explained the situation. "I'll leave you in charge here while I ride south again."
His brother nodded, then glanced toward the stairs. "And what are you going to do about your lovely lady captive?"
Camille waited at the base of the stairs, her gaze fixed upon him. What the devil was he going to do about her? Leave her here? Take her back to Perth?
He liked her… a lot. Too much. Their bedsport had been the best he'd ever experienced.
Not only that, she was a bold and spirited lass, his favorite type.
She was not afraid to tell him the truth, as some people were.
And strangely, he liked that, too. He admired her bravery, strength and resiliency.
He wished he could spend all day in bed with her, getting to know everything about her, not just her body but her mind too.
Although he had no idea why, she fascinated him.
She offered him a wee mischievous smile, much like the one she'd given him in bed. His heartbeat sped up with excitement. Damnation, but she was beautiful.
He strode to her, unsure what he wanted to say.
He only knew he didn't want her to leave.
But how could he keep her here? He respected her too much to ask her to be his mistress.
And the clan would not approve of his taking her to wife.
He had an obligation to the clan to marry another chief's daughter or sister to form a bond of alliance.
Or a Scottish lady who could bring a goodly amount of property and wealth to the clan. Such things were not taken lightly.
Much as he wanted to be selfish and keep her, he knew he could not. This realization struck his vitals like a sharp battle-axe.
"Do you… wish to go back to Perth?" He forced the words out.
A small frown crossed her delicate blond brows and disappointment reflected in her eyes. "I suppose. If my party is still there. If they're not, could you take me to Draughon?"
He gave a curt nod. "I'll have a horse saddled for you. Can you be ready to travel in a quarter hour?"
"Oui." She lifted a shoulder. "I have no belongings to pack."
'Twas true, of course. He'd rudely snatched her away from her normal day-to-day life without so much as another stitch of clothing.
"The maids cleaned my dress last night and hung it by the fire. I think it should be dry by now."
"Take that one, too, if you wish." He darted a brief glance down at the dress she'd borrowed.
It molded perfectly to her sweet curves.
"It certainly becomes you." He dared not stare overlong at her lush body.
Not only was it rude in public, but it also put too many lusty thoughts into his head at the wrong time.
He was just discovering how much he truly liked her and already he was going to have to say goodbye.
"I'm sorry I… abducted you," he murmured.
She offered a crooked smile. "Only because I'm the wrong woman."
"Nay. I'm sorry I frightened you and tied you up."
"I'm not."
"What?" He searched her face. How could she mean those words?
Her smile widened. "If you had not kidnapped me and tied me up, we couldn't have shared…" Her voice lowered to a whisper. "What we just did in your chamber."
Desire seared his body. Damnation, how he wanted to carry her back upstairs for more bedding. But… he couldn't.
He glanced around, trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing. Aye, taking her home… the last thing on earth he wished to do.
Though he wanted to say more to her, his mind and tongue were not in accordance. Who kenned what he might blurt out in this turbulent state?
"Unfortunately, we must leave soon," he forced himself to say, then strode away toward the stables.
Geordie chased after him with his sword and other weapons.
After donning them, he had a groom to saddle a fleet-footed mare for Camille.
Dugald could not tolerate her riding on the same horse with him again.
She aroused him to near madness every time he touched her.
When he thought of the two chiefs' daughters he was trying to decide between, he felt nothing but miserable.
Aye, the lasses were young and lovely, and they both seemed interested in him, if a bit wary.
But neither of them stood out. In fact, he rarely thought of them.
He had a duty to the clan to marry someone of his own social rank or higher.
Anything he could do to better the clan was his responsibility.
His own mother had been the younger daughter of a Scottish earl with a large dowry.
How could he do any less for the clan? If he could gain them more fertile lands to tend, that would help them all tremendously.
"We are ready, m'laird," Owen said, startling him out of his deep thoughts.
Dugald glanced around to find Camille waiting a few yards away. The rest of his men milled about the courtyard and some were already in their saddles.
Dugald strode toward her. "Are you ready to mount?"
"Oui, monsieur."
He wished she would call him Dugald, but he supposed she was being proper and polite. Or was she being impersonal?
Frowning, he led her to the mare and lifted her into the saddle.
Her narrow waist within his hands reminded him of when they'd been in bed and he'd touched every part of her.
Hell, he wanted that again. Now. Certain parts of his body did not care that they were surrounded by his garrison.
When her eyes met his, a sensation like lightning flashed through him.
Though he did not want to look away, he forced himself to. With regret, he mounted his own horse.
∞∞∞
They had gotten a late start and were not traveling as fast as they had the day before.
By mid-afternoon the sky became thick with clouds and a light mist fell.
The rain gradually increased and so did the wind.
Dugald was used to this sort of normal Scottish weather, but he could not allow Camille to stay out in it.
She might catch an ague. And he was not sure the tent would provide good enough shelter in this wind and rain.
"We go to MacVay holdings!" he shouted to his men. "He will provide us shelter for the night."
Several of his men look relieved.
Aye, the MacVay chief would be a good host, but Dugald did not truly want to go there. MacVay's daughter was one of the young ladies he was considering for a bride. But 'twas the only place nearby where they could seek hospitality.
A quarter hour later, the whole drenched garrison entered the bailey of the castle.
Dugald helped Camille dismount and escorted her into the great hall.
Chief MacVay greeted him jovially. The man would read too much into this.
He would see it as Dugald coming to visit his daughter.
At least, he thought he would, until the older man's gaze landed on Camille at his side.