Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Nay!” Cameron roared, digging his heels into the horse’s sides. The creature seemed to be hesitant to ride as hard as his own steed. “Faster! We cannae let them get away!”
They tore down the well-trodden dirt path. It was the only one wide enough to accommodate a carriage. Cameron doubted Lord Abbott was foolish enough to try riding through the woods. More than likely, he thought that he had executed the perfect extraction.
Cocky bastard. He believes he has already gotten away with this.
As he rounded a corner, his horse’s body getting low to maintain traction, he spotted a carriage in the distance. It was moving much faster than was safe, and it was flanked by two men on brilliant, white horses. There was no question about who was riding inside.
Pushing the horse as hard as he dared, Cameron began to close the distance. His hands tightened on the reins, the leather digging into his palms. The guards ahead yelled something at one another. They had seen him, and they were preparing for his approach.
They daenae ken who they’re challenging.
As soon as Cameron was within striking distance, the door at the back of the carriage flew open, and Margo’s determined, flushed face appeared. She scrambled onto the platform, holding tight to the railing. Lord Abbott came out after her, wearing his fury on all of his features.
As he threw an arm around Margo’s waist, the carriage rocked precariously. He did not seem frightened by it, rather further enraged. Then, Lord Abbott spotted Cameron’s fast approach, and his lips curled into something disgustingly sinister.
“Sign the papers, boy!” Lord Abbott called, yanking Margo against his chest, causing her to squeak with discomfort. “You are making things much harder than they need to be!”
“Return me wife at once!” Cameron yelled, ignoring the command, and pulled his sword from its sheath, riding toward the closest guard.
Though he was outnumbered, Cameron would not let himself be stopped nor deterred. He would sooner die fighting to get Margo back than give up. Besides, one look at these men was enough to know they had not seen real combat a day in their lives.
As Cameron brought down his weapon, his horse spooked, rearing back and nearly throwing him to the ground.
They came to a harsh, skidding halt, his sword clattering to the ground as he held onto the reins, his thighs tightening around the animal’s body.
He cursed under his breath, patting the horse’s neck to calm her down as the caravan continued forward.
Margo was yanked back inside, and the carriage surged forward even faster.
“I cannae catch them, nay on ye,” he growled, forcing himself to stay still as the horse fidgeted, still uneasy.
He could not go after them on this animal. She was not trained for battle. Even if he were to keep up with the fleeing party, there was no guarantee she would not try to throw him off once more.
He needed reinforcements, a better horse, more time.
Knocking his heel against the beast’s side when she was steady enough to move again, Cameron poised himself to tear back to the castle. At a pace much too leisurely for the kind of hell he was going through, the same solicitor from earlier rode toward him. He raised his hand in a lazy wave.
“If you are ready to sign the contract, I will ride back to the castle with you,” he said, sounding like a man who had already won.
I wonder how much money he was promised. And if he kens that Lord Abbott willnae make good on his end of the deal.
“I willnae sign yer damned contract. I willnae sign away Margo’s inheritance, nor me future heir’s inheritance.
I willnae live beneath Abbott’s boot for the rest of me life,” Cameron roared, urging his horse into a gallop.
Yelling, making it known to the entire forest, he cried, “And I’m nay losin’ her, either! ”
No answer came back but the lazy calls of nocturnal creatures deep within the thick trees. It was like any other night to them; clear with a slight chill blowing in from the sea. If anything, it was pleasant.
Cameron could not stand it.
Like the winds and rain, the thunder and lightning that plagued his native lands, he refused to let anything know peace.
A great, earthshaking battle cry erupted from his chest. The beast beneath him whinnied, her hooves digging harder into the ground as she seemed to realize they were returning to the castle.
Nae for long. Lord Abbott willnae escape with Margo. I willnae allow it.
When he came thundering into the courtyard, Lachlan was already standing outside. Cameron’s approach, the set of his jaw, everything was a testament to what he needed to know. Still, Cameron barked, “Lord Abbott has taken Margo. I need men to help me get me wife back.”
Margo struggled against her father’s hold as soon as she was forced back inside the carriage. Now that she had seen Cameron, she wanted out even more desperately. Even if she were injured, the separation would be all that Cameron needed to make his move.
“Let go of me!” she demanded, throwing both of them against the side of the carriage.
They rocked dangerously, and for a moment, Margo and her father both paused.
When the carriage did not flip on its side, he gathered her wrists and shoved her onto the bench.
His knee settled painfully in the soft, squishy part of her belly.
The air rushed from her lungs, and she could do nothing but gasp, desperately trying to draw another breath.
“You will not put both of our lives at risk,” Lord Abbott hissed, leaning in close.
His breath was hot against her cheek, his visage filling her view.
She could not think, her fingers curling and uncurling uselessly.
The pain in her stomach grew sharper, and she felt him bruising something vital on the inside.
She closed her eyes against the onslaught, focusing only on getting through the pain.
“I thought I would give you the chance to sit like a lady and behave yourself,” he continued, shifting to grab something from the floorboards.
His knee found another point inside her. Before she could stop herself, she yelped, a sharp sound in the tiny interior. Her father sat up, glaring down at her when her eyes flew open. His hand came down upon her cheek once more, and the fire in his eyes only seemed to burn brighter.
“Quiet!” he commanded. His face twisted into something sinister, evil. “You leave England for a few weeks, and you no longer have any manners. I knew that it was the Highland upbringing that made your mother behave the way she did. I’m seeing it in you now.”
Margo wanted to argue, to defend her mother’s honor as well as her own. She still could not speak, though. And, even if she could, she was afraid of the pain he might inflict on her.
“I have already told you” he practically growled, bending down and snatching up a length of rope that she had not realized was in the carriage. “That all your husband has to do is sign the new agreement, and you can come back to this terrible place.”
It is not terrible. It is the best place I have ever known!
Lord Abbott finally took his weight off of her as he began to tie her wrists. The knot was tight, digging into her sensitive flesh, the rope already threatening to leave a nasty burn; but she could breathe again, and, when he fully climbed off of her, she was sat right-side up once more.
She chewed on all of the things she wanted to say to her father. She wanted to demand he tell her if he had always been so cruel, if he had always been so resentful of her mother. Did he ever really love Margo and Eleanor? Or were they always intended to be used as pawns for his own financial gain?
As her fury grew, consuming her like a wildfire, the guttural sound of a man vocalizing his emotions eerily cut through the night. The noise was primal, and Margo knew instinctively that it was Cameron. He was not going to leave her alone, and his retreat was not abandonment.
I just have to hold on. I can tolerate anything my father attempts with me.
“I still do not understand why you have taken me,” Margo said, looking at a spot on the wall in front of her. “It is not just an update to the agreement, is it?”
“It is a… particularly important update to the agreement,” Lord Abbott said after a long moment of thought.
She could feel his eyes on her, as though he were weighing whether she was worth revealing the details of his plan to.
“I am attempting to keep important assets from being mismanaged. Assets that are tied to you.”
Margo’s brow furrowed. She had read the initial contract, the one outlining the details of her dowry.
There was nothing there that was valuable enough to warrant this almost crazed need for control.
Her fingers twitched with the overwhelming urge to reach for her pendant as she thought.
She knew better than to even hint at its existence around her father.
Instead, she focused on the feel of the metal against her breastbone.
“So, you have taken me to maintain control of the… assets,” Margo said slowly, picking each of her words carefully in hopes of enticing him into giving her more information.
“I always knew you were a smart girl,” he said, the praise burning like poison in her veins. “He will either do the right thing and sign the contract, allowing me to manage the lands, or he will forfeit his right to you.”
“You would have him let his people starve,” Margo said, her jaw tightening with anger that she could not express.
She had been so concerned about her own feelings that she had not considered the impact this would have on the people she was coming to love.
“This arrangement was to pay off debts, to help the people he’s meant to lead. If anyone has benefitted, it is you.”
“You cannot possibly understand arrangements such as this one,” Lord Abbott said, the line of his shoulders becoming more severe.
Margo flinched even though he made no sudden movements.
“Keep yourself quiet for the rest of the ride. If you struggle to contain your commentary, I will not hesitate to gag you. Obey, and you will not have to worry about such things.”
Stifling a scoff, Margo looked down at the rope that bound her wrists. Her father had always said if she and Eleanor obeyed, they would live pampered lives. It was his favorite phrase to use when he was slapping either of them to correct their behavior.
Something cold twisted in Margo’s gut. She used to think the worst the man could do to her was a corrective strike, or perhaps withholding a meal or two. His behavior now was unprecedented.
I do not think we are going home. And I do not think he is going to release me to Cameron easily.
For now, she told herself, she just had to survive and find a way to outsmart her father. It would be difficult, but he had said it himself. She was a smart girl.