CHAPTER 3 #2
She was certain MacDunn intended to use her to either strike an enemy or fatten his coffers, or perhaps both.
Although she had been fortunate in proving her supernatural powers with her little “spell” last night, she had no hope of faking someone’s death or making riches suddenly appear.
The moment she failed to do so, MacDunn would realize he had been duped and his rage would be awesome.
After he finished punishing her, he would give her back to Robert in order to prevent war.
She would be imprisoned and burned, and Robert’s treachery would go without retribution.
She could not allow that to happen.
“The horses need to rest,” MacDunn suddenly announced. “We will stay here by this stream awhile.”
Gwendolyn wearily let go of Ned. Although MacDunn had said no MacSweens would come after them today, he had led his warriors like a man possessed.
It was clear he was most anxious to return home with his prize.
Her arms were stiff and her backside aching as she slid off Ned’s horse, only to collapse in a startled heap on the ground.
“Are you ill?” MacDunn asked, racing toward her. He dropped to one knee and laid his rough hand upon her brow. “Do you feel feverish?”
“I am fine, MacDunn. My legs are stiff from being on that horse too long, that is all. I am not accustomed to riding such a long distance.”
His hand moved from her forehead to each cheek, as if he did not quite believe her. When he finally decided that her temperature was acceptable, he regarded her sternly. “You should have said something if you were finding the ride too difficult.”
She did not know what to make of that. After all, she was his prisoner, and had assumed her comfort was irrelevant. “You are obviously in a great hurry and—”
“Your well-being is of paramount importance to me,” MacDunn interrupted. “In the future, you will tell me when you are feeling ill or overly tired. Is that clear?”
She reminded herself that his anxiety sprang from greed rather than a genuine interest in her health. He had told her she was useless to him if she fell ill. Nevertheless, his touch was infinitely gentle as he wrapped his arms around her and helped her to her feet.
“You must walk a little, to get the blood moving in your legs,” he instructed, leading her across the grass. “Better?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered, unsettled by the feel of his hard body supporting her. “I’m fine now, MacDunn.” She broke free from him to walk on her own.
He watched her a moment, as if to be sure. Then he turned and led his horse to the stream. Cameron and Ned followed with the other horses.
“Has he always been this preoccupied with illness?” Gwendolyn asked, moving to where Brodick was laying out some food.
“No,” he admitted. “But that was before he learned how formidable an enemy illness can be.”
“Was he sick?” Gwendolyn was unable to imagine MacDunn weak from disease.
Brodick shook his head. “MacDunn has always enjoyed excellent health.”
“Then who was sick?”
“It is not my place to tell you about MacDunn, Gwendolyn. Whatever he wants you to know, he will tell you.”
She didn’t care, she reminded herself. MacDunn’s problems were of no interest to her.
Her only concern was escaping. And with MacDunn, Cameron, and Ned down by the stream, this was probably her best opportunity.
They had stopped at the edge of a thick forest. If she could lose herself in there, she would be able to find someplace to hide.
She raised her arms in a casual stretch, sighed, then began to wander nonchalantly toward the woods.
“Where are you going?” Brodick demanded.
“I require a few minutes of privacy,” Gwendolyn called over her shoulder.
“You must wait until MacDunn returns. He would not want you going off on your own.”
“Unfortunately, I cannot wait,” replied Gwendolyn, still walking. “Don’t worry, Brodick, I won’t go far.” With that she slipped into the woods and quickly disappeared behind a tree.
She glanced back to see if Brodick would follow her. He stared in her direction a moment, as if debating whether or not to go after her. Then he lowered his head and continued to unpack food from his saddlebag.
Every second was precious. Gwendolyn gathered her skirts in her hands and began to swiftly thread her way deep into the woods.
She tried to step lightly over the carpet of pine needles and twigs, conscious of each snap and rustle as she raced from her captors.
It would be only moments before Brodick decided she had been gone too long.
She needed to cover as much distance as possible before the warriors came after her.
Her heart pounded and her breath was reduced to shallow, desperate gasps.
Still she ran, heedless of the branches clawing at her face, farther and farther into the quiet green sanctuary of the woods.
She was well ahead of them now. The forest was so dense and dark, surely they would not be able to find her here.
“Gwendolyn! Where are you?” Brodick called, not sounding nearly as far away as she would have liked.
She did not pause, though her chest felt as if it were being squeezed of air.
“Gwendolyn!” called MacDunn, his voice harsh, “come out here at once!”
Exhaustion forced her to pause a moment and lean against a tree, greedily gasping for breath.
They would never find her now, for the woods were far too large, and they could not possibly know which direction she had taken.
Still, there were four of them, which meant they could cover virtually every direction.
The sound of branches breaking and twigs snapping told her they had begun their search.
She glanced around wildly, looking for a place to hide.
There was nothing but the endless, narrow columns of trees.
She debated trying to climb one of them, but feared she lacked the strength and agility to get sufficiently high, and might only reveal her whereabouts in the process.
“Come, now, m’lady,” called Cameron, affecting a reasonable tone. “You cannot be thinking of spending the night alone in these woods.”
She picked up her skirts and began to run again, encouraged by the fact that his voice was muffled.
Obviously they were going in the wrong direction.
Her breathing grew labored once more, and her heart began to pound against her chest. Still she ran, focusing on her need to escape, to free herself from MacDunn and his selfish desires, and to find Robert and bury a dirk deep into his heart.
The ground began to rumble beneath her. She ran even faster, but now she could hear branches cracking, heralding the advance of a rider. Despair overwhelmed her. Realizing she had been caught, she stopped and turned.
MacDunn was thundering toward her, an arrow taut against the string of his bow. Rage had hardened his features into a terrible mask. Gwendolyn stared at him in horror, her heart frozen. Instead of lowering his weapon as he drew close, he aimed it straight at her.
In that moment, she realized he was truly mad.
She opened her mouth to scream as he released his arrow, but all that came out was a strangled whimper. A hideous shriek of pain shattered the air.
Confused, Gwendolyn looked behind her.
An enormous wild boar lay upon the ground with an arrow protruding from its side.
Blood poured from its wound as the heavy creature struggled to get up.
Another arrow sliced the air beside her and plunged cleanly into the poor beast, killing it.
Gwendolyn stared at it in shock. The animal would have killed her, she realized numbly.
Slowly, she turned to face MacDunn.
He swung down from his horse and stalked toward her.
“Do you have any idea how close you just came to death?” he demanded softly.
“MacDunn, I—”
He grabbed her by her slim, bare shoulders, needing to touch her, to be sure she was still whole and well.
“You would have been killed,” he bit out harshly. “That boar would have knocked you to the ground and trampled you until every bone in your body was crushed.”
His grip was punishing, but she dared not complain. She did not want to provoke his rage even more than she already had.
“And I would have been powerless to save you, Gwendolyn,” he continued fiercely. “Had I arrived but a moment later, there would have been nothing I could do.”
This, perhaps, was what alarmed Alex the most. He had vowed to protect her, yet her own folly had placed her directly in death’s path.
And now she stood, trembling yet defiant.
He wanted to shake her, he wanted to frighten her, he wanted to make her understand that she could not trifle with her life in this way.
And so he lowered his head and captured her lips in his.