Page 104 of In Search of a Husband
The driver cried out to the horses, and the carriage slowly came to a stop. Kate reached for the door, but her father swatted her hand away.
“Whatever it is, the driver will see to it. Ladies must remain inside the carriage.”
But something didn’t sit well with her. It appeared as if someone was slumped against the gnarled oak tree almost barren of its leaves.
“Katherine, sit back,” her mother snapped. “Let your father handle it.”
Her father? The same man who suddenly seemed interested in his boots.
For most of her life, she had done as she was told and behaved, more often than not at least, as she should. She reached for the door and sprang out of the carriage, not looking back, even as she felt the marquess tug at her skirts. Especially not as she saw the body on the ground wearing the familiar MacInnes tartan shawl.
Her fingers went cold, and a sour taste filled her mouth. She swallowed, ripping her skirts free from the marquess.
“Elsie!” she screamed, sprinting through the long grass. The ground was uneven, and she stumbled, pushing up to her feet once more, her eyes fixed on her fallen friend.
Something was wrong, very wrong.
“Elsie, wake up. Wake up, now.”
Kate grabbed Elsie’s shoulders and turned her, noticing the bloody gash at the side of her head and the rag tied to her mouth.
“Help,” she screamed at the marquess. Kate scanned the forest, certain she saw something move.
“Don’t move her, Kate. Leave her still.”
“Don’t—”
The small toes of a worn boot poked up through the grass, then a smaller boot smudged with blue paint. The girls! Kate crawled over to discover Lorna and Maisie tied up as well, crying and gagged but unharmed as far as she could tell.
“All right, girls,” she said, trying to speak as calmly as she could. Her heart hammered in her chest. She reached for the ties and removed both from the girls as the marquess remained with Elsie, speaking to her softly, but she was still unconscious.
“Who did this to you?”
The girls clung to her, warm salty tears racing down her throat as she sobbed. “You’re well, you’re well. Everything will be fine. Let’s return to Dunsmuir.”
“Och, now I told ye no’ so long ago, English, ye’re to help me. And did ye?”
Duncan McQuarrie moved through the trees and stood in the tall grass, his hand at his waist, revealing the knife strapped there.
“And didna I say ye’re never to say nae to me?”
“Let them go, you odious devil.” She gripped the girls tighter, pulling their heads against her chest to protect them.
“I thought about burning down the inn for good, ye see. But that isna goin’ to stop Gabriel now. He canna open a legitimate distillery. So when yer parents arrived last evening, I kent he’d be distracted. I posted a man at the castle, who told me Miss MacInnes was out for a walk with her nieces. And then yer carriage left. It was too good to pass up.”
“Leave Elsie and the girls alone. They haven’t done anything.”
The marquess stood.
“Ye’re goin’ to stop movin’ now.” Duncan unsheathed the blade and pointed it toward Hugh. “Or I’ll run ye through with my blade here. I dinna like the English. No loss to me.”
“You don’t need to threaten the woman or the children, sir.”
Duncan scoffed. “Last chance, lass.”
She spun and pushed the girls away. “You don’t scare me. And you don’t scare Gabriel.”
“Take them!” Duncan sneered.
