Page 47 of The Veiled Wish of a Highland Bride

She slowly crept closer to the camp, her skirt swishing gently around her ankles, hair tousled by the wind. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out the best way to slip in and out of the camp unnoticed.

But where was Archie?

Mia had come close enough to the camp to at least catch a glimpse of him, but still she saw nothing. She was certain that these men would never again keep their prisoner too far away for fear that he would escape. So where was he?

She needed a plan, and she knew this all too well. But first, she needed to locate the man she had come so far to save. She took a few more steps towards the camp, not failing to notice the stench of spirits, sweat and muck that hung in the air. She might even have heard a belch somewhere, but other than that the men did not stir.

As she scurried to another tree, she spotted him.

Archie was almost unrecognizable, although this was not the reason why she had not seen him at first. He was tied to a tree, right behind the man who had belched just a few minutes ago.

Mia kept her emotions under lock and key. They were all over the place: guilt, fear, worry, pain,rage. Ifshefelt this way, she could not imagine the torture Archibald was living through. He was beaten up, swollen and bruised all over. He looked as though he was unconscious. The ropes that bound him were so tight around his torso that they dug into his skin. She wondered how he was breathing at all and a new wave of rage boiled inside of her.

They all were chatting and laughing in Gaelic, but there was one who seemed, from what Mia could see, less unruly than the others. Was this mission of capturing Laird Macnab so important that they had to bring their leader? Leader or not, there were too many guards on watch for her to handle.

She turned away from them to rest her back against the tree. The wood was a much needed source of support for her as she tried to steady her breathing.

Think, Mia. Think.

She took a few more breaths.

Ye have to come up with a plan. Or these men might bloody well kill Archie.

Her heart still raced unsteadily no matter how many breaths she took. Mia knew she needed to remain calm, but that was difficult to do when she had been standing there for almost fifteen minutes yet was no closer to saving the man she loved or coming up with a good idea.

She shouldn’t have come. Not alone, at least. Now that she was here, she had no idea what to do but stay until she could find an opportunity to get him back from them.

The only option she had was to sneak in and take Archie away without the soldiers noticing. But was this even possible?

Mia felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, making her wonder whether she was being watched. She turned her attention back to the men, trying to figure out if any of them were glancing in her direction, but they were all either occupied with their ale or their chatting. She figured she had to try something. The longer she stayed here, the more her chances grew of getting caught.

With new, steely resolve, she quietly darted from tree to tree until she got to the tree Archie was tied to. His eyes were still closed, his head hung limply as she reached him.

She prodded him a little to wake him up, putting her hand on his mouth so he did not stir and alert the men—particularly the silent one she had decided was their leader, but whom she did not recognize.

As his eyes fluttered open, Mia swallowed hard. He stared at her for a moment as though he had seen a ghost, and then gasped against her hand. Mia could see how shocked he was at seeing her there, and howangrytoo. Not that she cared how mad he’d be at her. All that had been on her mind since she heard of his capture was to rescue him, and that was it.

She let go of his mouth and hurriedly put a finger to her own, signaling him to be quiet as she worked at the ropes that bound him to the tree.

She had almost gotten all the knots loose when she felt a cold hand on her shoulder.

* * *

Archibald jolted fully awake when he saw Dallas towering over Mia as she hurriedly untied his bindings. She was at the toughest knot, he knew; he could feel her fingers working steadily behind his back.

Dallas had always had a knack for knots, even when they were children. Their father, Laird Macnab of that time, taught them the art of tying knots in the tightest and most convoluted ways.

Dallas's short brown hair fell over his eyes which were identical to Archibald's. He seemed to have developed even more muscles since the last time he had seen him. Archibald had always been able to beat his brother in a fight, but he was not so certain now.

“Well, well… what have we here?” Dallas teased—a smirk plastered to his face.

Archie began to struggle, hoping that he could loosen up the last few knots that still remained undone before Dallas had an opportunity to get Mia but to no avail.

Dallas's hand rested firmly on her shoulder, and he had begun turning her to look at him.

“Ach, ye look awfully familiar, lass. Do I ken ye?”

Archibald could not spend another minute listening to him speak to her, and he could not bear the thought of him touching her, but it wasn't until he heard Mia grunt in what he presumed to be pain that he mustered the rest of the strength and shouted at Dallas through the gag that was stuffed into his mouth.

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