Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The carriage rolled steadily along the winding Highland road, the rhythmic clatter of its heavy wooden wheels almost soothing against the quiet murmur of the surrounding forest.
Claire kept her eyes fixed firmly on the small window.
Rosewood Castle had long since disappeared behind the rolling hills, yet she could still picture it with agonizing clarity. She saw the towering stone walls, the muddy training yard, the dusty library, and Finn. She pressed her lips tightly together, fighting the sudden burn in her eyes.
Dinnae cry, she ordered herself fiercely.
The farewell in the courtyard had been difficult enough, and if she allowed herself to dwell on the devastating way he had looked at her, or the way his rough voice had cracked when he had asked her to send word, her fragile composure would shatter completely.
"Ye are thinking about him again," Molly observed gently from across the dim cabin.
Claire looked up, managing a weak, apologetic smile. "Am I that obvious?"
"Lass, ye have stared out that same window for near an hour, and ye havenae seen a single tree," Molly pointed out with a knowing look.
Despite the heavy weight in her chest, Claire laughed softly. "I suppose I havenae."
"There now," Molly smiled warmly, reaching over to pat Claire's knee. "That is better. Ye have looked as though the world is ending ever since we left the gates."
"It feels a little as though it has," Claire admitted, her smile fading.
Molly's expression softened with deep pity. "He sent ye away because he wanted ye safe."
"I ken," Claire sighed. "I ken exactly why he did it."
"But?" Molly prompted.
"But understanding something doesnae make it hurt any less," Claire confessed.
A comfortable silence settled between them, filled only by the distant calls of birds deep within the pines and the muffled thud of the horses' hooves against the damp earth. Claire rested her head lightly against the wooden wall of the carriage, letting her eyes drift shut.
"I should have kissed him," she whispered into the quiet.
Molly blinked in surprise. "Me lady?"
Claire immediately covered her flushed face with both hands, groaning softly into her palms. "I cannae believe I said that aloud."
A delighted grin spread across Molly's weathered face. "I was wondering when ye would finally admit it."
"This conversation is over," Claire stated firmly, refusing to lower her hands.
"Oh, nay, I think we have only just begun," Molly teased.
"Molly..." Claire warned.
"Ye have been in love with the man for days," the maid pointed out simply.
Claire lowered her hands just enough to shoot a glare at her maid. "I have nay such…"
"Ye have," Molly interrupted.
"I daenae," Claire argued.
"Ye do," Molly insisted with a laugh.
Claire huffed in defeat, dropping her hands to her lap. "Ye are impossible."
"And yet I am right," Molly chuckled triumphantly.
Claire tried desperately to summon another denial, but absolutely none came to her defense. Instead, she looked back toward the window, a genuine smile tugging at her lips despite the lingering ache in her chest.
"I only wish..." Claire started, her voice trailing off.
"What, lass?" Molly asked gently.
"I wish we had more time," Claire whispered.
Molly's expression softened into deep sympathy. "So does he."
Claire swallowed the painful lump rising in her throat, but before she could answer, the heavy carriage lurched unexpectedly, pitching both women violently forward.
"What was that?" Molly gasped, gripping the wooden bench to steady herself.
Claire frowned, bracing her hands against the velvet cushions.
The horses had stopped, and not gradually, but with a harsh, abrupt violence.
Outside, unfamiliar voices drifted through the dense trees.
She recognized one of their guards, but the other voice belonged to a man she had never heard before.
The voices grew sharper in the freezing air.
"We werenae told there would be a change," the Rosewood guard argued defensively.
"There is now," the stranger replied briskly. "Lord MacSween's orders."
Claire straightened immediately, her pulse quickening. "A change?"
Molly pulled back the heavy velvet curtain just a fraction to peer outside. "I cannae see much," the maid whispered nervously.
Claire leaned in beside her, quickly counting the mounted men who had joined their escort.
There were too many of them. One of the newcomers carried himself with the rigid discipline of a soldier, yet something about his presence felt deeply wrong.
His thick plaid bore no crest, and displayed no colors she recognized.
He spoke to their escort as though he belonged there.
"I will nae hand the lady over without proper confirmation," one of Rosewood's men stated firmly, shaking his head.
The stranger smiled, though the cruel expression never reached his dark eyes. "Then perhaps ye should."
Claire's stomach tightened into a knot of pure ice as the terrible realization hit her. Something was terribly wrong. She reached instinctively for Molly's trembling hand.
"Stay behind me," Claire ordered fiercely.
"Me lady..." Molly protested, her voice shaking.
"If anything happens, ye run," Claire insisted.
"I am nae leaving ye," Molly argued stubbornly.
"Molly," Claire warned, squeezing her hand.
"I said nay," the maid replied.
Before Claire could argue further, the carriage door was thrown open so violently that it slammed hard against its iron hinges, allowing the bitter, cold air to rush inside. A broad-shouldered rider sat astride a dark horse, his massive frame completely blocking the doorway.
"Lady Claire," he greeted, his tone far too calm for the chaos surrounding them. "Ye will come with us."
Claire remained firmly seated, her grey eyes flashing with absolute defiance. "I will do nae such thing."
A flicker of dark amusement crossed the man's face. "So the stories are true."
"What stories?" Claire demanded.
"That Finn MacRae chose himself a stubborn English bride," the stranger smirked.
The casual mention of Finn sent another terrifying warning racing through her veins, but she stubbornly lifted her chin. "If Lord MacSween has truly sent ye, then tell me why."
The man merely smiled a wicked, knowing smile. Behind him, the sharp ring of drawn steel pierced the quiet forest. A brutal shout split the air, followed instantly by another. Claire's heart lurched violently against her ribs.
"Our escort!" Molly cried out in horror.
The rider moved with terrifying speed. In one swift, practiced motion, he reached his hands into the carriage to grab her.
Claire reacted before he could even touch her, snatching the small brass lantern hanging beside the seat and swinging it outward with every ounce of strength she possessed.
The heavy brass struck his broad shoulder hard, causing him to curse loudly, but she did not wait to see the damage.
"Run!" Claire shrieked at Molly, throwing herself desperately toward the opposite door.
She nearly reached the iron latch when a second man burst through the opening, catching her violently around the waist. Claire drove her elbow backward with brutal force, earning a grunt of pain from her attacker.
She stamped hard on his leather boot, twisted wildly, and bit down viciously on the thick hand gripping her arm.
"Bloody hell!" the man roared, ripping his hand away.
His crushing grip loosened just enough for her to tear free, and for one glorious heartbeat, she thought she might escape. Then, someone caught a massive fistful of her heavy winter cloak, jerking the fabric dangerously tight around her throat. She gasped for air as she was hauled backward.
"Nay!" Molly screamed, launching herself forward and grabbing Claire's arm with both trembling hands. "Let her go!"
One of the attackers shoved Molly backward with a careless, brutal strike, sending Molly crashing heavily against the wooden carriage wall.
"Molly!" Claire cried, lunging toward her maid, but another pair of strong, unyielding hands seized her from behind.
She kicked wildly, her heavy boot catching one of the riders squarely in the chest and causing his horse to dance sideways in the mud.
"Hold her!" a man shouted.
"I am!" another grunted, straining against her thrashing weight.
Claire clawed desperately at the thick, muscular arm locked around her waist. "I will nae go wi' ye!" she screamed.
One of Rosewood's loyal guards charged toward them with his broadsword raised, but he never reached the carriage.
Another attacker intercepted him, steel clashing violently before the guard fell heavily to the muddy ground.
Claire stared at the fallen man in absolute horror, the finality of the violence breaking her control.
"Finn!" Claire screamed, the desperate name escaping her lips before she could stop it.
The rider behind her tightened his punishing grip, hauling her effortlessly out of the carriage and up onto the wet saddle directly before him. She fought like something feral, striking, twisting, and throwing her head backward until it cracked painfully against his jaw.
"Wild little thing," the man hissed, rubbing his bruised face.
She struggled even harder as the massive horse surged forward into the trees. "Molly!" Claire cried out.
"My lady!" Molly shrieked from the open carriage door.
Claire stretched desperately toward the carriage, toward the brave maid running uselessly after them, and toward the men still fighting and dying in the muddy road.
But the dense trees rushed rapidly between them, and within moments, the dark forest swallowed every familiar face, leaving behind only the thunderous pounding of heavy hooves.