Chapter 1
Lightning lit up the sky as Joan sat bolt upright in her carriage seat.
Something was very, very wrong. The carriage was bumping over the road at an alarming pace; even if they were trying to make up the time, there was no reason for the coachman to be pushing as hard as they were.
She had fallen asleep at the last crossing and wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
She used her hands on the ceiling to steady her body and stop her head from bumping against the hard wood.
It was evident from the gap in the curtains that a massive storm was raging outside the confines of her carriage.
Fat drops of rain beat against the glass with thunderous force.
The sound was so deafening that she feared the glass would shatter.
Joan struggled to steady her body as she shifted over to the side and fought with the curtains for a few minutes before managing to see out the window.
With her cloak covering her hair, she stuck her head out the window and yelled to the coachman, rain and wind stinging her face as she squinted. “Why are we traveling so fast?”
The ferocity of the storm drowned her voice as she looked at the trees that were passing in a blur; even the road beneath the wheels was barely visible from her vantage point.
Her heart leaped in her throat when she suddenly realized that the wheel was dangerously close to the edge of a cliff.
There was nothing besides a gaping void at the bottom, waiting for her to slip and fall.
Swallowing hard, she turned her face up and tried again; taking a deep breath, she yelled up to the man who was urging the horses on as if his life depended on it.
“Excuse me!” Her voice managed to reach the man as he suddenly became even more startled than he already was. The horses veered dangerously close to the edge before he gripped the reins and straightened their path.
“Get back in the carriage, Miss!” he yelled down to her with fear in his muffled voice. “It’s not safe for you to be leaning out like that!”
Joan felt her annoyance growing with the man as she gripped the door even tighter to keep her balance. Her dress was soaked from the neck down, and her muscles were beginning to ache from her efforts. “But why are we going so fast? You will throw us over the edge soon if you aren’t careful!”
“There are bandits, Miss!” The man’s panicked voice sent chills down her spine as he once again lifted the reins and urged the horses forward, yelling at them to run faster.
As if the world were moving in slow motion, Joan turned her head to see a group of men following close behind on horses.
The largest of the men rode in front on the back of a white stallion.
His dark hair was tied in a braid behind his head.
It was clear from their kilts that the men were Scottish.
Several of them sported long swords at their sides and daggers tucked into their boots.
Their fierce cries curdled her blood, making the pit of her stomach jolt along with the coach.
Her blood turned to ice when the leader caught sight of her and grinned, displaying his yellow teeth in a gut-wrenching grimace.
Moving as quickly as she could, Joan climbed back inside the carriage and closed the window before ensuring that the bolt was securely in place on both doors.
There was no telling what would happen to her if the men caught up to them.
The look on the leader’s face alone told her that they weren’t the kind of gentlemen who would take the belongings and go while leaving her and the coachman unscathed.
Thoughts of panic tumbled through her mind as Joan held on for dear life, praying that they’d make it through in one piece. It sounded to her as if the bandit’s horses were gaining on them when the carriage suddenly took a sharp turn, throwing her body against the door with unrelenting force.
It was a good thing she had taken the time to ensure that the door was latched; a hit like that would have very likely thrown her across whatever God-forsaken part of Scotland they were traveling through.
Regaining her footing, she quickly returned to her seat and braced herself for the worst. It was only a matter of time until the men caught up and dragged her from the carriage. Her ribs ached with a fierce throbbing from the impact. She would definitely have quite a few bruises in the morning.
If I live to tell the tale.
Minutes passed as she sat in her seat and awaited her inevitable fate. It wasn’t until the storm began to subside that she realized the carriage was slowing down. The sound of horses and yelling had also faded into oblivion. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since she locked the door.
Perhaps we lost them.
She took a deep breath before opening the window once again and sticking her head into the misty rain that now came down in a gentle sheet.
“Did we manage to shake them?” she called to the coachman after looking behind them and seeing nothing but an empty road and forest. It was difficult to see beyond the darkness that engulfed the lane they had entered.
“Yes, Miss,” he called back. “I saw an opening to a road next to a forest and decided that it was our best way of escaping. The men seemed hesitant to follow and eventually fell back.” His voice became more audible as the rain petered out to a few drops.
The clouds were clearing but did little to improve the poor visibility they were currently experiencing.
“That’s wonderful; well done,” Joan praised him before looking around.
“But where are we now? We should have been at the castle already by my reckoning,” she asked him, eyeing the thick woods suspiciously.
Either side of the road was covered in thick pines that made it hard to see what lay beyond.
She was beginning to think that there was a reason the men had fallen back.
“Don’t worry, Miss; I have made many a trip into the Highlands. I can find my way through the country without a map,” he said proudly as the horses trotted on. “We will be there soon; it was only a minor detour.”
Joan had her doubts and was about to protest when the woods suddenly cleared, opening the road that led to a castle. The high buttresses loomed in the distance through the mist that hung in the air like a blanket thrown over a bed.
“See,” the man called proudly as he raised himself up in his seat. “I knew exactly where we were all along. You’d be hard-pressed to find me lost in the Highlands of Scotland.”
Finally.
She ignored the man’s boasting and sat back in the carriage as relief flooded her body.
The journey had been a long and arduous one, but Avery would welcome her with open arms and take her in — hopefully allowing her to have a very hot bath.
She looked down at her dress that clung to her body; she’d catch a cold if she didn’t change out of her sodden clothes soon.
It wasn’t long before the carriage came to a halt. Not wanting to waste any more time, she unbolted the door and stepped out, her shoes squelching in the mud from the storm that had passed. She nearly lost her footing but quickly steadied her body on the door before looking around.
The walls of the castle seemed different from how she remembered them; they were higher and far more ominous, but then again, it had been years since last she visited her friend.
Many of the Highland castles looked the same to her in any case.
They all had a hint of mystery about them that led one to expect something magical.
Chalking it up to the mist along with the ordeal she had just experienced, she lifted the hem of her skirts and picked her way through mud, walking toward the iron gates that were visible in the distance.
The fog swirled around her, creating cloud-like patterns as she went. A chill was beginning to move through her bones as she gripped the edge of her cloak and tightened the wet fabric around her shoulders. The sound of an animal in the distance made her jump as she hurried along.
It wasn’t until she was right on top of the gates that she realized a guard was staring at her with an intent look in his eyes.
He was wearing a bright red kilt with black squares and a sword at his side.
The thought crossed her mind that she had perhaps come at a very inopportune time.
There were often wars between the clans that required extra security.
“Excuse me,” she said politely. “I am here to see…” Her words were cut short when a man suddenly seized her from behind, gripping her upper arms with a vice-like grip.
“What do you think you are doing?” she yelled at him in panic and fought with all of her might. It wasn’t the warm welcome she’d been expecting all along.
“Stop yer fightin’!” the guard she had been approaching yelled. “Take her to the dungeons at once,” he barked at his friend.
“Wait!” she tried to plead with him. “I am a guest of the castle!”
“An’ I’m the laird!” he laughed maliciously at her as she was dragged backward through the gate, her feet kicking in the air as she yelled. It was quickly becoming evident to her that no one was going to explain what the dickens was going on.
“I’m telling you to let me go!” she yelled at the man dragging her. “I know the laird and his wife!”
“I’m sure ye do,” the burly red-headed man said in a sarcastic tone. “We’d all like a private audience with the laird, but I’m afraid ye will have to try better next time,” he laughed in a tone that matched his friend’s. “That’s if ye make it out alive.”