Chapter Twelve

Leaving Kirstie in her room had been the hardest thing Alan had ever done. Once he’d broken free from their embrace, he’d avoided her gaze, because the crack in her voice had almost done him in, and if ever he needed to keep his wits and strength, it was now. He couldn’t afford to let emotion guide his decisions. Not until they were all safe.

She was terrified, and he was leaving her. It had been hard enough to fight back the guilt without meeting her gaze, because there was a real possibility he wouldn’t survive the day, and he couldn’t face her to assure her that he would be back. He’d apologize later if he had the chance, but for now, he had to ensure the plan was in motion, so he made his way to the house where he’d be joining the Covenanters.

Cameron men hid in plain sight, surrounding the inn named The Red Grouse, the nearby buildings, and deep within the forest. Great pains had been taken to look like locals, with weapons hidden in baskets, barrels, and wagons. There were Grahams, MacLeans, and MacDonalds here as well, along with other clans Alan wasn’t as familiar with.

Late in the evening before, after the meeting in the tavern with Niall and his men, Alan had met with Alexander Gordon, the leader of the Royalist Resistance, and they’d devised the plan he saw in place now. It had been too risky for him to be seen with the Camerons, so he’d reached out to one of the most dangerous men in all of Scotland to organize the counterattack. Alex made sure the lairds had advance notice of the threat against them and relayed the layout of the strategy the two had devised to combat the Covenanters’ plans of murder. He’d made certain the man would confirm with Dougal that the women be on their way to Kentillie in the morning and out of danger.

When he’d finally broken free from Gordon, he’d run to make sure Kirstie was safe. Relieved the Covenanters had finally trusted him with the plans, and he’d been able to pull together what he thought to be an ingenious campaign, he was bone weary and exhausted. Falling asleep listening to her melodic voice, he dared to relax his guard and dream of a life with her.

Now, he lay in wait as more men arrived at the house from which the Covenanters planned to begin their assault. The Royalists had their prescheduled meeting at the location across the street, and this home had a nice view of the inn where the attack would happen. It had become the Covenanter’s base of operations. Last night, they’d told him everything, and now he was here to pretend for the last time he wasn’t a Cameron.

…

As Dougal came in and knelt in the corner to collect their bags, Kirstie made her escape. Fighting back the tears, she struggled to breathe as she ran through the halls of the castle toward Lachlan’s and Malcolm’s chamber. She had to tell them one last time to be safe and to make certain Alan came back to her.

As she turned the corner to start up the steps, she stopped suddenly. Hamish descended the steps in front of her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He weaved his arm through hers as he pivoted and started to lead her up.

“I was expecting to hear an answer from you last night.”

Damn, she’d forgotten he’d ask her to marry him. She swallowed. “I am so sorry. After the meeting, my brother sent me back to my room and posted a guard. I couldnae go anywhere.” She was stalling, avoiding telling him the truth and breaking his heart, but it was never a good time to impart such news. “Ye are such a sweet man, Hamish, but I think with our religious difference, we just willnae suit.”

His grip on her arm tightened just a little. She wasn’t sure if he was angry with her or if he was shocked by her response and trying to keep himself upright. “I did make it clear to you that religion wouldn’t be a problem between us.”

“Ye say that now, but when we have children, I am certain ’twill become a problem. I think ye are a wonderful man, but I think ye need to find someone who shares yer beliefs and will be able to worship at yer side.”

“I want you.”

They were at the landing now. He continued down the hall toward Lachlan’s room. She didn’t stop him, because that was her final destination anyway.

“Have ye considered Niall’s sister? She would make a good wife. She’s verra bonny, and she shares yer beliefs.”

“No. That isn’t in the plan. I will marry you.” She stopped, but he pulled and she stumbled alongside him.

“I am sorry, but I will choose my own husband.” She tried to yank free, but his hold remained strong.

Dragging her down the hall and past Lachlan’s door, he didn’t respond.

“Let go of me, Hamish.” His grip tightened to a painful vise as she struggled to yank free.

He still didn’t answer as he opened a door with his free hand and pushed her through. Her foot caught on her skirts, and she fell to the floor. The door clicked shut, and she looked up to see him standing above her with a twisted grimace on his lips.

She scrambled to her feet and skirted around the nearest chair to put a barrier between them. “What are ye doing?”

“You have made the wrong decision. I had hoped you would cooperate, but this may be better. I’ll have to break you in, but you will learn to obey me.”

“Stop this.” Fear was replacing the anger she’d felt moments earlier as she realized she didn’t know this man at all. Had his kind, cool demeanor been a facade all this time?

“When you are my wife, you will have no choice but to obey.” Walking slowly up to the chair, his face turned placid as he again seemed to reverse into the man she’d gotten to know these last few months.

“I willnae marry ye. Did ye no’ hear me?” Her grip on the back of the chair tightened as her body tensed.

“You will.” His eyes darkened but didn’t give away any hint of emotion.

“Ye are starting to scare me.”

“Good. You should be afraid.”

Chills ran down her spine, and she froze as he yanked the chair from her grasp and tossed it across the room. As she watched it fly through the air, something struck her side where she was still bruised from the attack in the stables.

Pain erupted, and her knees buckled as she crumpled back down to the ground. He stood over her as she shook.

“You will not move if you know what is good for you.” He removed strips of cloth from his pocket, and her eyes widened.

Scrambling backward, she jumped to her feet and ran for the door. She tried to call out for help, but he was too quick, pinning her instantly to the stone wall just beside the door. With his body weight pushed into hers, she couldn’t scream, couldn’t even breathe. He was much stronger than he appeared.

His hand was suddenly on her cheek, and he pushed something into her mouth then grabbed both of her hands and yanked them behind her. He pulled and she had no option but to obey as he guided her down to the floor. She struggled, but it was futile.

When she was flat on the ground, he put a knee into the base of her back and wrenched her hands together. Material dug into her wrists as he wound it around the sensitive flesh several times in different directions. His yanking roughly at the material caused pain to shoot up through her arms as he tied the ends together. He did it so smoothly that it crossed her mind that he’d done it before, like she’d seen men wrestling pigs for sport.

He tugged at the bindings. “That will do.” Was that pleasure she heard in his voice? She shivered.

Taking her arm, he wrenched her to her knees and knelt beside her. She tried to spit the cloth out of her mouth, but just as her tongue loosened it, she heard a rip and felt a slight tug as he tore the bottom of her dress.

“Nice,” he said, then his arms came around and placed the new strip of fabric over the one she’d not yet dislodged. He pulled it across her mouth and tied it tightly behind her head. Her eyes watered at the ache in her wrists as she struggled.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun, Kirstie,” he sneered in her ear.

There was nothing enjoyable about this, she would have said if she could, so she attempted to hit his head with hers, but he grabbed her hair and jerked her head to the side.

“You will marry me, and when your brothers are gone, I will run your clan and you will convert. I will save my wife. It may appear harsh to you at the moment, but you will thank me for it.” His blue eyes were hard and filled with a zealot’s religious conviction. He honestly thought he would be helping her, and that was what scared her the most; he couldn’t see the wrong in what he was doing through the haze of his Covenanter principles.

Her brothers.

Hamish was in on the plot. Would he murder for his beliefs?

She shook her head in denial. Hamish was too kind and God fearing to be behind that. Oh God, had he been planning this all the times he’d come to visit her at the Macnabs?

No, she didn’t know him; he had her tied up on the floor of his room.

He must have taken her looking away for some form of disobedience, because she doubled over as his fist hit the small of her back just below her ribs.

Balling up, she struggled to breathe in through her nose. Her body’s natural reaction was to gulp in through her mouth, but no air was getting in that way.

Head spinning, she was pulled to her feet and dragged to the chair still sitting by the hearth. Hamish pushed her down into it and kept one hand clasped around her arm. She felt him stretch for something nearby and then cringed as ropes came around her to bind her to the seat.