Page 59 of The Runaway Bride and the Highlander
“Someone somewhere is bound tae ken where she is. Only, I wouldnae ken the first person tae ask.”
That brought her to think that perhaps it might be better for her to travel back to the family home after all.
“Someone in the village is bound tae ken,” she continued thinking out loud. “Father might not be there any longer, but he must have told someone. Perhaps he confided in the priest. The confessional would have been the perfect opportunity for him tae tell another in case anything happened tae him.”
Skylar was just beginning to make her mind up and come to the conclusion that traveling home was her best option when a sound in the distance caught her attention. Straining to hear it, she did not know what it was at first. A low rumbling sound like thunder danced on the still air, and at first, she thought that perhaps a storm might be approaching.
Looking up at the sky, however, she noticed it was clear. In fact, there were still stars way up there, twinkling down on her. The rumble then got closer, and her heartbeat spiked as she realized what it really was.
Spinning in the saddle, she turned behind her. The sound of horse’s hooves against the undergrowth got ever closer, and her first thought was of Maxwell. He had discovered her letter and decided to ignore her words. It must be him now chasing after her. She could not deny the relief she felt, but it clashed harshly against her desperate want to save him from his dreadful fate. He must not find her. She could not go back.
Flicking the reins harder, she pushed the horse into a fast gallop, eager to put as much distance between her and Maxwell as possible. But after a minute, the sound was no further away. However fast she was going, Maxwell was matching her speed. Turning in the saddle once more, her hair flying behind her with the speed her horse ran, Skylar caught sight of something that made the pit of her stomach twist in fear.
There were several men on horses, and Skylar could clearly see the uniforms they wore. They were the uniforms of the English. It was not Maxwell and his men that were following her but Laird Johnson’s. She had been right after all. A storm was indeed coming, and if she did not escape now, she would certainly be swept up by it.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
“Yah,” she cried out, pushing the horse as fast as she would go.
Even as the beast thundered across the glen, Skylar could not help but think about her situation. The fear was certainly pushing her onward, but behind the fear was her confusion. How could Johnson’s men have possibly discovered that she had left the castle? Perhaps Kendrick had been right. Perhaps they had been outside the castle walls all along, waiting for someone somewhere to make a mistake.
Try as she might and as desperate as she was to outrun them, the following horses gained on her in every second. Their steeds were far larger than her mare, and besides, these men were strong riders, for they did little else. It did not take long before they had gained enough on her to come up and ride beside her, pinning her in from every direction. Some of them scowled, and some of them sneered, but the inevitability of what was about to happen was clearly evident. In a final move to slow her to a trot, one man cut in front of her mare, gradually slowing his horse’s speed. Her mare had no other choice but to do the same.
When it was safe enough to do so, one of the soldiers reached out a hand and grabbed the reins, pulling them from her tight grip and yanking on them, eventually bringing the mare to a stop altogether. It was as all the horses cantered to a final stop that Skylar suddenly paled, for coming up behind them, riding tall on his horse, was Laird Johnson himself.
“Get her down,” he growled once he had come to a stop beside them.
Skylar glared at him both in shock and anger. She had not seen the man since her mother had been murdered, and looking at him now, he was even uglier and incited more hate in her than before.
With little finesse, the soldiers grabbed at her and pulled her from the horse in such a forceful way she nearly fell to the ground. Johnson appeared not to notice, or more than likely, he did not care. He dismounted with ease and approached her. At his presence, his men took a step back.
“Ye have evaded me for some time, witch,” he spat, removing his gloves as she approached her. “But I always win in the end,” he sneered, leering at her.
Lifting his hand toward her, his knuckles grazed her cheek in what was supposed to be some sort of caress. Her skin crawled at the feel of his hand, and she could not help but shiver. Johnson’s rough touch abruptly brought back the memory of Colum doing exactly the same, and the thought of what he had planned to do with her. Automatically, Skylar launched her mouth at the laird and bit his hand, just as she had done to Colum.
“Ouch!” he cried out in shock, quickly pulling his hand back. His shock was swiftly followed by anger. “Ye little bitch,” Johnson bellowed, and bringing his hand back, he struck her hard across the cheekbone.
“Arrgh!” She was near spun full circle at the force of it, and the excruciating pain shot through her like she had been punched, for the man was tall and strong. Immediately, she lifted her hand to her face, holding it and in some way hoping such an action would ease the pain. But her hand did little in the way of soothing, and slowly, she stood to her full height again.
Cursing her with horrific expletives, Laird Johnson turned away from her, shaking his hand back and forth while at the same time rubbing the place where her teeth had sunk into his flesh. After a moment, he straightened his shoulders and turned back to her, a sneering smirk upon his face.
“Perhaps I will have tae beat that little fiery part out o’ ye, witch,” he growled. “I look forward tae that very much.”
His words sent a wave of fear through her, and she tried with great effort not to show her utter terror at the thought of it. By his tone, the man would show no mercy, and Skylar could not imagine, if that slap was anything to go by, what she might have to suffer day in and day out for the rest of her life. She needed a way out of this situation, and for the first time since she had left Dunvegan Castle, she regretted telling Maxwell not to come after her.
Of course, he would do as she had asked, for she had asked it. There was no one coming to save her this time. Yet, there must be something she could say or do. Perhaps the laird did not yet know she was married.
“I am already a married woman, my laird. Ye cannae take me when I am another man’s wife,” Skylar retorted.
It was the only ammunition in her arsenal, but deep down, she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. A man of Johnson’s low morals would hardly care whether she was married or not. He had crossed every line, from murder and torture to killing another laird’s betrothed. And they were only the things she knew about. With such a reputation, Skylar had no doubt that the man was unscrupulous.
“I am well aware of yer status. I’m also aware o’ the reasons Laird Macleod married ye. He wants what I want. He just happened tae get tae ye first.”
“Ye’re wrong,” Skylar bit back. “He’s naething like ye. He loves me for who I am, nae what he can get out o’ me.”
“Och, I am sure he’s got plenty o’ use out o’ ye already,” the laird leered disgustingly, his statement making the surrounding men chuckle. “It matters nae either way. I dinnae mind another man’s discarded property.” He glared at her like she was something that belonged in a rubbish pile. “Besides, I have already dealt with that small problem. The king has assured me that he will gladly annul yer marriage tae Macleod. That will leave ye free tae marry me. It has been a long time coming. I had expended every expense tae discover yer whereabouts, and then ye had the audacity tae have my men chase ye all over the country. I’m tired and frustrated,” he huffed, “but now, I finally have ye in my grip. Yer future as my wife awaits ye, Skylar Morgan.”
“My name is Macleod,” she spat back.
