Chapter 1
“Let me go!” Margot screamed as the tall stranger led her out of the building. She fought him all the way to the door, pummelling him with all her might, but his grip was relentless, and she was no match for his strength and
bulk. Common sense told her to submit, but she had never been a slave to that quality!
When the door opened, a blast of ice-cold air hit them and Margot gasped in shock.
She kept on struggling and trying to work her way out of the big man’s grasp, even though she knew her efforts were worse than fruitless.
It was simply not in her nature to give up, but after a few moments, he made it physically impossible for her to move any more.
The stranger turned her around and put an arm around Margot’s waist, then pulled her so that her back was against his chest. She could feel the hardness of his muscular flesh against her, and although it went against every one of her instincts, she decided to give up the fight for freedom, at least for the moment.
It was a waste of energy that could be better used to work out another strategy for escape.
Still, she hated the warmth that spread where he held her.
He walked them both into the shadow at the side of the grandiose building, then stopped.
“Those men in there will send horsemen after us in a matter of minutes.” His voice was a low growl, and he was so close to her that Margot could feel his breath on her ear as he spoke. “If you want to live a while longer, I suggest you do as I say. We need to get out of here while we still can.”
“I can handle myself!” Margot barked back at him. She tried to turn around to face him, but he was holding her too tightly. Margot tried to elbow him in the ribs, but she was too close to him and did not have enough leverage.
“I need to speak to my father. My sister might be in danger, I must find her.” Her voice was shaking with rage, but the stranger was not listening.
Margot heard and felt his deep sigh of exasperation, and shivered as the man bent down even closer to her so that his mouth was almost touching her ear.
“Really?” The deep, husky voice was loaded with sarcasm.
“Your father sold you in cold blood, and that swine, Davie Brown, who bought you from him was going to use you as if you were a brood mare. And let me tell you, that was not the worst he would have done to you either. He takes delight in hurting people. All of your children—if indeed you had any—would have been bastards, looked down on by everyone around them. Did you think of that? And do you think your father cares about your sister any more than he cares about you?” He paused for a moment to let his words sink in.
“You are a lone woman among dozens of men. How long do you think you would last in there before you were overwhelmed?”
The scale of the danger she was in had not occurred to Margot until that moment.
Her will and determination were so strong that sometimes they blinded her to all else.
She did have a powerful character, but that was not going to protect her against the onslaught of a horde of men bent on hurting her—or worse.
She had heard that when they were drunk, they could behave like wild animals.
Yet was she any safer with this big dark stranger, or had he bought her for his own nefarious ends? She would soon find out, she supposed, but the thought filled her with terror.
“And are you any better?” she snapped back. “You bought me, after all! Does that make you some kind of saint?”
“To save you from being savaged by those swines!” he replied furiously. “It is either them or me. I can promise you that my intentions are good, but I have no way of proving it, so you will have to take my word for it. I have bought you, so I will not see you come to any harm if I can help it.”
He grabbed Margot’s hand suddenly, and strangely, all at once she felt safer.
“Come with me.”
It was an order which she could not disobey, since she had no choice. How was she going to fight against someone the size of him?
She looked up at him, trying to gain some insight into his thoughts as he stared down at her.
His eyes were the deepest brown she had ever seen, and his hair was jet black; in fact, he did not look Scottish at all.
His voice was deep and husky, and everything about him was utterly masculine.
Margot was unsure of whether to trust him or not, but he seemed infinitely better than the alternative.
And in any case, she had nowhere else to turn.
Margot had to run to keep up with him, since his legs were so long that they ate up the ground with enormous powerful strides. However, as she came level with her horse, a big strawberry roan mare that she had raised since she was a foal, she said, “This is my horse. I will follow you.”
The big man paused in his stride, then turned and glared at her.
“No,” he said firmly. He turned towards the animal and looked her up and down, then shook his head.
“I know you are probably very attached to her, but my stallion can outrun any horse for miles around, even with two riders. Say goodbye to her. You’re coming with me—no arguing. ”
Margot was about to turn and give him a piece of her mind, but the scowl on his handsome face made her pause, even as the sense of what he said sank in.
Her heart was breaking, but she knew she had to leave her mare behind.
She turned to her and stroked her velvet nose, then said, “Goodbye, my sweetheart,” before she was dragged away again.
“Hurry up!”
The stranger’s voice was loud and urgent, and Margot hastened to lift her leg to put her foot in the stirrup, but she never got the chance.
She felt a strong pair of hands grip her around the waist and lift her onto the stallion.
A moment later the stranger leapt up in front of her and the horse sprang forward as he was spurred into a gallop.
Margot was terrified by the speed at which they were moving, since she had never ridden so fast before.
As well as that, she was not in control of the animal, and this made her fear even worse.
She had no idea where they were going as they thundered along, or the identity and purpose of the man in the saddle in front of her.
However, she took a chance and looked behind her, then, seeing no pursuers, she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps they were not being followed at all, she reasoned. After all, what would be the purpose of the pursuit?
“What is your name?” Margot asked suddenly, raising her voice to make herself heard above the wind that was screaming past her ears.
“Callum,” he answered, but he did not ask for hers.
Callum. The name was typically Scottish; she had heard it before, she was sure, but now that she had seen it personified it seemed like a strong, solid, dark thing, like its owner. She loved it.
They rode for a while in silence as the darkness grew around them, and shadows grew thick and dark under the trees. There was still a little light and a pale crescent moon above them, and Callum did not appear to have any difficulty in seeing the road.
Margot felt as though a lead weight had been dropped onto her shoulders. She had been bought like a piece of livestock, and for what? Nothing. She had failed in her mission to find her sister and was now trapped in the clutches of a total stranger about whom she knew nothing.
She forced herself to clear her head of her troublesome thoughts, however. Going over her worries over and over again would get her nowhere. She needed to keep a clear head to deal with whatever was coming next.
Margot had just begun to relax a little when an arrow whistled past her, a hands-breadth away from her ear. She screamed in fright and instinctively ducked, but another arrow thudded into the ground beside them, narrowly avoiding hitting the stallion.
The horse let out a panicked neigh and reared, forcing them both backwards and almost toppling them onto the ground.
“Hold on!” Callum yelled as he tried to steady the horse.
However, out of the corner of her eye, Margot saw the glint of another bowstring. Without a second thought, she threw herself forward and sideways, causing them to tumble from the horse’s back and into a muddy ditch with a sickening force that knocked the breath from their lungs.
Callum grunted in pain as his body made contact with the ground, but he had the presence of mind to pull Margot towards him and throw his cloak over both of them. Its colour was almost the same as the dark brown mud, and as they lay still and silent, they were effectively invisible.
Callum half-rolled over Margot, shielding her with his body as they listened to the thundering hoofbeats of horses just inches above them.
Margot was shivering with fear, but she knew that she would have been infinitely worse had Callum not taken it upon himself to protect her. She heard the horses stop suddenly, and Callum put a finger over his lips to warn her to stay silent.
The sound of voices shouting and arguing struck even more terror into her heart, but it seemed that the pursuers were only discussing whether or not to carry on following them.
“Davie’s no’ goin’ tae be very pleased if we dinnae bring him back,” one of them said fearfully.
“Aye, well, if he was as bothered as a’ that he should have come an’ got them hisself!” another voice piped up.
“He’s as drunk as a skunk,” someone else claimed. “He cannae even get on a horse, never mind stay on its back. Come on, we can tell him we were chased by some boars or somethin’. I am no’ wastin’ any more time on this bloody wild goose chase.”
The others agreed, and they banded together again and turned to ride back the way they had come.
Margot lay still for a moment, then stood up, breathing an almighty sigh of relief. Callum was struggling, however, moaning with pain as he finally managed to get to his feet. It was only then that she saw his injury, and she cried out in alarm.
Callum’s arm was hanging from his shoulder at an extremely awkward angle. The shoulder was flattened at the side and a massive bump protruded from the top of his arm just underneath it.
Margot stared in horror as Callum rubbed his arm, his handsome face a twisted grimace of pain.
She felt a spear of guilt pass through her as she looked at him.
She had done this—these men were after her, not him, after all, and she had been the one who had pushed him from the horse.
He had landed on the hard ground with the force of all his considerable weight on his left shoulder, and as Margot looked at him, she could see the anguish on his face, and felt wretched.
“Oh, god,” she breathed, reaching out to touch his injury.
Callum winced and jerked away from her with an angry growl.
“Leave me alone!” he snapped.
Tears of pain had begun to run down his cheeks as he glanced at her with a quick but fearsome scowl.
Callum closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths as he tried to collect himself, even though the agony coursing through him was worsening with every second. When he opened them again, the cause of all his misery was staring at him helplessly.
“This is all my fault,” she said, her voice quivering. “I should never have pushed you, but-but I saw that another arrow was going to hit us and—”
“What’s done is done,” Callum said grimly, gritting his teeth. “We will have to make the best of it.”