Chapter Two
The next day, Dugald met with Mairiana in the inn's common room again, but she knew no more than she had the day before.
Annoyance bored through Dugald. "Damnation, you ken how important this is to me, sister." He spoke in hushed tones. "The Lindsays will be leaving at daybreak the day after tomorrow. I must have the dagger before then."
At that moment, Dugald noticed Alec Lindsay and his men entering the inn's common room.
Alec saw them right away and came forward alone.
"Chief MacKerrick." Offering a fake smile, he held out his hand and Dugald shook it.
"What are you doing here, my friend? Pray, tell me you have not changed your mind about your sister marrying me. "
That remained to be seen but he would keep that information to himself. "I've run into a problem and I hope you can help me with it."
After kissing Mairiana's hand, Alec took a seat at the table with them. "Aye, what is it?"
"While your entourage was at Rornoch Castle, my valuable dagger disappeared." Dugald observed the other man carefully. "You remember it, I'm sure. I wore it during the ceremony and at supper afterward. It has a large ruby embedded in the hilt."
Alec frowned. "Are you saying one of the Lindsays stole it?"
"Someone did. 'Haps one of your guards or servants."
Alec narrowed his eyes while Mairiana appeared to be holding her breath.
Dugald went on, "I need your help in finding it. It has been in my clan for generations and is always passed down to the next chief."
Drawing himself up into a regal posture, Alec said, "I'm offended that you would accuse my clan of stealing."
"Well, I'm sorry to offend you," Dugald said in a steadfast tone, "but the fact is, someone in your entourage stole it."
The other man's face darkened. "You don't know that. Maybe someone in your own clan stole it and hoped to implicate the Lindsays."
Dugald gave a humorless smile. "My clansmen would not commit such a shameful and dishonorable deed.
They own it as much as I do. It is an object of much pride and admiration within the clan.
Now, are you willing to help me ferret out the thief or not?
Question your men. Search them and their belongings. "
Alec watched him with calculating eyes for a long moment, then glanced at Mairiana. "Aye, I'll see what I can do."
Dugald was glad to have his cooperation, even if he wasn't yet sure he would follow through. "I must have it back before your party leaves Perth."
"As I said, I'll see what I can do," Alec snapped.
"I am staying at the Boar's Tusk Tavern across the street. Report to me there at gloaming."
With one last glower, Alec arose, took Mairiana's hand and escorted her from the room. Dugald did not trust the wily bastard.
∞∞∞
Alec did not show up in the tavern at gloaming, or after.
"The whoreson," Dugald seethed. "Come." He motioned to his two personal bodyguards, Owen and Rufus.
They proceeded out into the misty rain and across the muddy street to the inn.
Neither outside, nor within the common room, did he see hide or hair of any of the Lindsays.
Surely, they had not left. He inquired with the proprietor and learned they were still in residence.
Alec had simply decided to ignore Dugald's request to meet him. The bastard would not help him unearth the dagger.
Grinding his teeth, Dugald returned to the sparse room he'd rented over the tavern.
He turned to his clansmen who waited by the door, addressing the one with brown, shoulder-length hair and a short beard. "Braden, you and Mason stay out of sight and keep watch at the inn across the street. Tell me immediately if the Lindsays attempt to leave."
"Aye, Chief."
Dugald switched his gaze to the two brawny Highlanders beside them. "Grant and MacFarley, you two take a turn at watch just after midnight."
After they all agreed, Braden and Mason hastened down the stairs, while Grant and MacFarley joined the rest of the clansmen in the chamber next door.
"Get some sleep," Dugald told his personal bodyguards who remained in the room with him.
"What about you, Chief?" Owen asked, his bald pate gleaming in the dying light from the small hearth.
"I'm not sleepy." Dugald was too annoyed. He paced the floor and kept an eye on the inn from his window. How could he reclaim the dagger without instigating a battle here in Perth? Was Alec Lindsay a man of his word, or was he a conniving whoreson?
He was strongly suspecting the latter. He was daft to allow Mairiana to wed him.
After pacing for an hour or longer, while Owen and Rufus snored from their pallets on the floor, Dugald lay down on the bed.
He'd only fallen into a light sleep when a loud knock sounded at the door.
Stumbling through the darkness, he almost ran into Owen who was headed in the same direction.
Pausing, he let Owen open the door. MacFarley waited outside, carrying a lantern.
"M'laird, the Lindsays' horses are being saddled behind the inn. "
"Damnation!" Dugald turned to the window, unable to see the whoresons or their horses. "'Tis not even sunrise yet! He thinks to escape me."
"Aye, Grant overheard Alec Lindsay discussing their early departure with one of his guards."
If that was the game Alec wished to play, the bastard would regret it. Dugald turned to Owen and Rufus. "Tell all the men to go to the livery stables and saddle the horses quickly."
"Chief?" In unison, they frowned at him.
"Just do it." After grabbing his baldric and sword, Dugald rushed down the stairs and outside.
Morning was just starting to dawn as he slipped around the inn and into the side servants' entrance.
Though 'twas difficult for a man of his tall size, he moved stealthily up the stone staircase and along the corridor where the guest rooms were.
'Haps he was daft to kidnap his own sister, but if Alec would not return his treasure, he would take Alec's.
'Twas the only leverage he had. Aye, his sister would be angry, but if Alec was truly a whoreson and thief, why would his sister wish to marry him?
When a door opened, he hid in the window alcove behind the drapery.
"The chief wishes you to hurry, Lady Lindsay," the soft female voice urged. "He sent me to fetch you."
Lady Lindsay? Dugald frowned and peered from behind the plaid material and down the corridor.
All he could see was a drab-clothed maid waiting before an open door, then she disappeared inside.
More maids rushed out of the room, carrying various small trunks.
He drew back and watched them trot down the stairwell.
Aye, obviously the whole of the Lindsay party was in an unnatural rush, all because Alec and Angus wished to escape with Dugald's dagger. Thieves and cowards, the lot of them.
He peered out from behind the curtain again.
Though the corridor was dim in the dawn light, he could easily see the short, blond woman, wearing a dark cloak with the cowl over her silk gown.
Lady Lindsay, herself. Saints, she would be even better leverage than Mairiana!
Of a certainty, the chief would want her back, and he would find the thief with all haste in order to return the dagger.
Dugald's muscles tensed as she walked past his hiding place. Now was his chance.
Silently approaching Lady Lindsay from behind, Dugald gently but firmly clamped his hand over her mouth, lifted her and carried her quickly down the narrow servants' stairs toward the side exit.
Amid muffled screams, she kicked and elbowed him.
What a fiery hellion! Though he hated to terrify her and use her for leverage, he had little choice.
"Stay calm," he whispered in her ear, anticipation rampaging through him. "I won't hurt you." He glanced behind himself. Thank the saints no one was about.
Once outside, he ran with her, along the side of the inn and across the street to the livery stables where his clan's horses were saddled and waiting. She was a wee, light thing but she struggled hard, her elbows jabbing into him.
"Come." He motioned some of his men behind the tavern next door.
"Chief?" Owen asked, wide-eyed as he took in Dugald's captive. "What the devil?"
"Help me with her. Tie a gag in her mouth," Dugald demanded, his heartrate and breathing elevated. "But don't hurt her."
"Are you certain this is wise?"
"I don't need you acting like Tòmas," he snapped. "This is the only way to get the dagger back."
"Is she Chief Lindsay's wife?" Braden asked.
"Aye. You and Mason stay behind," Dugald said.
"Braden, scribe a missive to Chief Lindsay, telling him I have his wife.
She will come to no harm if he will return my ruby dagger to Rornoch Castle.
He is to only bring ten men or less with him.
Once you leave the missive, head home as soon as you can. Don't get yourselves captured."
∞∞∞
Sacrebleu! He was the Highlander—Dugald—Camille had seen in the inn's common room two days before. 'Twas true, he was a brute, as his sister had stated.
Why in hades was he kidnapping her? Camille was no chief's wife!
On the muddy ground, the men held her tightly in place.
One of the Highlanders tied a gag in her mouth, while another bound her hands in front.
Panic gripping her throat, she struggled against them, turning this way and that.
'Twas the same stark terror she'd felt when some knave had snatched her off the street in London the year before.
But Angelique was not with her to shoot her abductor this time.
Camille would have to gain her freedom herself. What other choice did she have? If she could survive all she'd endured in the past two years, surely she could fight her way out of Dugald's grasp.
Damn him and his minions! No matter how hard she struggled, she could not twist from the grip of their strong hands. Holding a rope, Dugald bent toward her ankles. Seeing the opening, she kicked at his face and her toe smashed against his regal nose.
"Damnation!" he growled, lurching upright and wiping at his bloody nose. His glare burned through her. "Hold her ankles."
A sudden wild urge to laugh in his face struck her, but that was impossible with a gag in place. Baring her teeth, she screamed and yelled but the sounds came out muffled.
The proud laird dabbed at his bleeding nose with a handkerchief. At least now he knew she was no helpless little lady.
Despite her best efforts to break two more noses with well-placed kicks, the men finally tied her ankles together.
"Damn you!" she tried to yell, but the words only emerged as a blunted moan.
What was she going to do?
If they would but allow her to speak, she would tell them who she was! Or if she could reach her calf, she would pull out her small dagger and stab le connard.
She could not believe a true chief could be so loutish. Her cousin was married to a chief who was far more civil, although equally large and commanding.
"Bring my horse!" Dugald ordered his minions. One of them rushed to do his bidding. When the huge, snorting beast stood beside them, he mounted. "Wrap her cloak around her and hand her up to me."
One of his guards did as he asked, enfolding her black woolen cloak so tightly around her she could hardly move, then lifted her to the saddle in front of the barbarian. Sitting sideways, she smashed her head into his rock-hard chin. Ouch! She feared it hurt her more than it had him.
He growled a curse. "Be still, wench, and I won't hurt you." He tugged her tightly against his solid chest.
Wench?
Her ankles tied together, she kicked her heels against his solid calf, but he must not have even felt it, for he made no comment, not even a grunt.
They galloped away upon the massive horse and left the town behind, his men following.
Holy Mother Mary, what was she going to do?
Tears burned her eyes and the chill, early morning wind stung them.
Her captor had mentioned something about getting his dagger back.
Hopefully that meant they wouldn't kill her.
But who knew if they would hurt her or torture her for information she didn't have?
Angelique would be terribly worried when Camille didn't return from her shopping excursion.
Camille had brought two maidservants with her, along with a coach driver and a guard.
No one had expected trouble. Certainly not her.
She was no titled lady. Her father had provided her a generous inheritance, though it was not nearly enough for her to be considered an heiress.
If Dugald hadn't tied a gag in her mouth, she would've told him she wasn't a chief's wife. He would likely be furious when he learned the truth. Would he take it out on her? Beat her?
The Highlanders rode harder than she had ever ridden in her life. The giant beasts beneath them obviously had tremendous endurance, for they tore across the fields and moors between the hills.
She had been this far north only once before, late last fall, when the weather had taken on the chill of winter early and snow had greeted them when they'd arrived at their destination.
Now, in early June, the colors were so different.
Though the wind was still cold, the hillsides were swathed in green velvety grass.
But she had no time to appreciate the scenic beauty, for it passed in a blur as Dugald's horse sped along the muddy trails.
The gag was all that kept her teeth from snapping together during the rough ride. Finally, the men slowed their horses to a trot, but kept going.
A couple of times, they stopped only long enough for the horses to drink water, before continuing on.
Camille tried to memorize their surroundings, but soon the mountains, hills and moors all ran together. She was hopelessly lost in the Highlands. How on earth would she get back to Perth, or her home at Draughon?