Kidnapped By The Highland Rogue

Chapter Four

The pain in her head roused her.

Unlike anything she’d felt in the whole of her life, it made her stomach roll and the bile rise. Fia knew she must roll off her back, but the waves of agony stopped her. Her groan of misery echoed out before she could prevent it.

‘Here now,’ a voice whispered in the darkness.

Strong hands gently moved her to her side and, if she did nothing, she discovered the pain did not worsen with the movement. Her stomach did though, rebelling and causing her to retch. Now, those hands, and arms, lifted her to her knees and held her as her misery grew. When her body ceased its rebellion, the arms laid her back down slowly and carefully.

‘The head wound, I’m afraid, is the cause of that.’

Fia lifted her hand to her head, searching for the cause of the pain and found an egg-size lump there on the left side of it. That injury. Her thoughts and memories were muddled as she tried to remember what had happened. All of it was in darkness, as she was now. Complete blackness surrounded her. Blinking, she tried to see anything and could not. Panic rose now within her, making it difficult to breathe.

‘Let me light a torch,’ the voice said as though it, he, knew what she was feeling.

She knew that voice. She did. But in the growing fear, she could not remember the person who’d spoken. Fia felt movement around her and then a flash and sparks as he used a flint to light a torch. The brightness hurt her eyes so she closed them until she became accustomed to it. Then, she looked at the man who’d helped her.

The same stranger who’d accosted her in the village during the attack. The same man who’d tried to warn her away from the coming danger. The same one who’d kissed her.

‘Who are you?’ she asked. She began to push herself up to sit and the pain and dizziness made her stop.

‘I will clean that up first,’ he said, nodding at the smelly mess near her.

Fia could only watch as he retrieved a shovel from outside and dealt with it. Her nausea lessened when the odour was gone. She also took the opportunity to look around the place where they were.

It looked very familiar to her, but its name and location escaped her. Only then she heard the voices outside the...cave! They were in a cave.

‘Do ye think he means to kill her?’ someone asked loud enough for her to hear.

‘I had hopes he’d share her before that,’ another replied.

‘I didna think he was that kind,’ a different voice added.

‘What kind?’ that first voice asked.

‘Ye ken. The kind that resorts to killing a lass who willna...’

‘Haud yer wheesht!’ the man in question yelled. He dragged his free hand through his hair and looked back and forth between the shovel he yet carried and the opening of the cave. ‘I amna killing her!’

‘Will ye share her then?’ the other man asked as though it was a reasonable request. Share her? Share her!

She moved then, pain or no damn pain. She pushed herself back, scrambling until she hit the wall. Looking for something she could use as a weapon, she found nothing. Fia found it difficult to even keep her eyes open, but she knew she must. When he stepped away from the opening and towards her, she put her hands out in front of her.

There were two of him, nay, three now. The watery shadows thrown off by the flickering torch made it impossible for her to tell what she saw. Fia rubbed her eyes and blinked several more times. He seemed closer now. As he crouched down before her, she pressed herself against the wall.

‘I will not kill you, lass,’ he said, dropping the shovel to the ground. Holding out empty hands, he nodded. ‘And I have no intention of sharing your charms with them,’ he added.

His tone reassured her but only until she realised what he’d said. Not killing her was a good thing. However, even in her muddled mind, she understood he’d only agreed not to share her with the outlaws sitting outside. He did not say he would not take her himself.

She followed his gaze and was horrified to see that her shredded gown exposed her legs to him. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped and tucked the gown’s edges tightly around her. His expression did not change much—the lust was clear but now a touch of amusement entered his eyes.

‘You were the ones who attacked the village.’ Her words hung there between them and, as she watched, his gaze turned dark.

‘“Attacked” is a strong word,’ he said, sitting now and crossing his legs in front of him, dusting dirt off his hands. ‘We simply had some fun.’

‘Killing and attacking innocents in the village? Burning the cottages? Destroying their possessions? I call that despicable!’

Fia said it with such force that her head ached even more. She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them to find him only inches from her. She’d neither heard nor saw him move, he’d done it so quickly. He leaned in even closer until she could feel the heat of his breath on her face.

‘Considering your situation, I would suggest you not be making such accusations loud enough to be heard. My friends out there will not take kindly to such things,’ he began. He smiled then, one that would have been devastating if under different circumstances, and she waited for the rest of the threat she knew was coming. ‘And, since I am the only one standing between you and the lads who want to be sharing your favours, I suggest you keep such words to yourself.’

Fia nodded and he stood and moved away, gathering some items from around the cave. She had been stupid and she knew it. Better to say nothing than to risk insulting or inflaming those who held her prisoner. Fia vowed to remain silent, as much as she could, until she understood what was happening. He approached once more, this time slowly, and held out a skin and a sack to her.

‘You likely do not feel like eating or drinking right now, but this is watered ale and some bannocks. Bland enough on even an unsettled belly.’ When she hesitated, he placed them next to her. ‘There’s also a bucket there for...your needs.’

He was seeing to her comfort, such as it was. Why? When she did not respond, he shrugged and stepped back.

‘I would think you would soon be hungry after two days without.’

‘Two days?’ she asked. ‘I have been here two days?’ So much for her vow of silence.

‘Nay. We were on the road for most of that time. Here, just lately.’

Her thoughts filled with dozens of questions. So many they overwhelmed her and what little strength she had. All she could do for now was to nod. Part of her struggled to keep control while the other part wanted to begin crying and ranting at this stranger before her.

‘I have to see to something. I will return in a while.’

Had he seen her struggle? Did he know how close to falling apart she was? Whether or not he had, it made no difference to her in this moment. She appreciated being given some time to sort things out. As she sat there, confused and dizzy from pain, she heard him call out to the others as he left the cave.

‘I’ve never had to force a lass afore,’ he said. ‘Wi’ this pretty face and my soft words, I wi’ have her beneath me, panting, afore she kens I’ve tasted her charms!’ The men laughed loudly.

Stunned by such a claim, she could only listen to his boldness.

‘On her back. Agin’ the wall. It matters no’ to me, lads,’ he called out. ‘The lass wi’ have Iain Dubh plundering between her legs afore she can say my name!’

‘Iain Dubh!’ the others called out. ‘Iain Dubh!’ It became a chant to them and a challenge to her.

The man was a scoundrel of the worst kind. These outlaws saw this all as some kind of game and now she, or her virtue, was their quarry. As the anger rose, something else played in her thoughts. Listening now to the chatter, she heard this Iain Dubh speak to the others in the rough accent of those uneducated. Though she had learned the more cultured way of speaking necessary for service to the wife of the chieftain, clearly these ruffians had not.

But Iain Dubh had.

When he spoke to her, when others could not hear, his rough accent disappeared and he spoke as someone educated would speak. Like a nobleman.

She had lost her mind if she thought him a nobleman. A desperate laugh bubbled up within her at such a thought. Fia blamed it on being caught by outlaws, kidnapped and attacked and brought here to this damp and dismal place.

A nobleman amongst a gang of thieves and criminals?

When her head calmed and she could move without pain and dizziness, she saw to her needs and managed to turn her shift so it did not open in the front. She put the gown back on and tied the strips of her linen shift around her to keep it closed as best she could. A needle and thread would be helpful, but what kind of outlaws carried such things with them?

It was as ludicrous as thinking she’d heard someone of noble birth here.

* * *

He’d adopted the look and ways of common criminals.

He’d adopted a new name.

He’d pretended to be this other man, a rogue in the company of outlaws, robbing and plundering, drinking and swiving their way across the Highlands in search of riches.

But when he was with her, all of that fell aside and he wanted to be the other one. And saying what he’d said to the rest of them had been the most difficult acting of his life.

He had no intention of forcing himself on an unwilling woman, but the others did not need to know that. He, whether Iain Dubh or Lord Niall Corbett, was good—very good—at seduction. Niall had saved her life and if he eased her fears and she wanted to show him some soft gratitude, he would accept it.

For now, he needed to remain in his disguise and keep the others from suspecting he was anything or anyone but the man he portrayed. The only thing he would commit to was trying to keep her alive until he could arrange to release her somewhere. As long as she went along with him and did not know their location, he was certain Lundie would not care.

Niall sought out some ale and drank it as the others spoke in great detail about what they’d like to do with the young woman in the cave, reinforcing his suspicions. Good Christ, but he did not need this complication now! It had taken all his wits and intelligence to stay ahead of the very suspicious gaze of Lundie for these last months. He was close now, so close to finishing his task and regaining everything meaningful in his life. He would let no one, including himself, get in the way of his success.

And especially not some woman who simply crossed his path and made his cock stand. Silence surrounded him and he realised that he was staring at the cave...and the others were staring at him. Anndra, the huge fighter, stood, grabbed him by the arm, pulled him to his feet and thrust him towards the cave.

‘Go on wi’ ye now!’ he shouted. ‘The faster ye’ tire of her, the faster I get my turn, ye ken!’ Anndra grabbed his crotch in a crude gesture and the rest of them laughed boisterously at it. No doubt they were thinking of the same manner of things.

They expected him to avail himself of the woman within, so Niall bowed and saluted them and walked to the cave. He had spoken loudly enough for her to hear everything. But, the look of pain and exhaustion on her face when he’d left gave no surety that she was even awake. In a way, he hoped not. He leaned down and entered quietly, waving off several offers to help.

She sat where he’d left her, but something was different about her. She leaned against the wall, her head leaning to one side. Her braid was back in place and the bandage on her head looked fresh.

And she slept, sitting up like that, back against the wall. He walked closer and spied a knife clutched in one hand. Where had she found that? Glancing at his boot, he realised he must have lost it in carrying her in and settling her down. Since it was not his sgian-dubh, he worried not over it.

As Niall watched her slow, even breaths, he realised that he had no idea of her name. Not once in their interaction had hapless Dougal spoken it. No one in the village had called out to her. That might be the first thing he asked her after he woke her. And, hearing those rude comments outside, Niall knew he must put on a show for them or risk their entrance into the cave. Letting out an exasperated breath, he stood and put his hands on his hips.

‘Well, lass,’ he said loudly. ‘Are ye ready for me?’ From the guffaws outside, he knew they were listening. She startled awake, even now still confused by the head injury and fear, from the dark expression that filled her gaze.

‘Nay!’ she yelled. Scrambling against the wall, when she could go no further she lifted her hand and held the knife between them. Her hands shook more with each step he took closer.

‘Ah, lass,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘If I want ye, that little sticker willna stop me.’ He laughed then, forcing it out. ‘And I have a blade I will use.’ The raucous laughter meant he’d been heard.

‘I will use it,’ she threatened, even as her grip loosened and her head tilted. ‘I will...’ The knife dropped and she fell to one side.

Niall quickly laid her down on the blankets and tossed another over her, drawing her body away from the cold, damp cave wall. He tucked the knife into her hand and closed her fingers around it. Though he was not at present a danger to her, there were many others who might be. The knife would give some pause. Then, he walked out of the cave and approached the fire there, and, with a flair, placed his hands over his heart.

‘She has, alas, been overtaken by my charms,’ he said. He poured some whisky into a battered cup and raised it. ‘May she have more stamina on the morrow!’

‘Ye are too squeamish, Iain,’ Micheil called out. ‘She canna fight if she is not awake.’

‘And now we ken why Micheil is so popular with the lasses,’ Niall said in a droll tone. Raising his cup once more in the man’s direction, he continued, ‘May Micheil discover that tupping a lass who is awake is much more fun than his way!’

As Niall had hoped, the others continued to drink and the banter went on for some time. When the time came and the fire was put out, he only hoped that he could find some way through this on the morrow. To add to his difficulties, he now had two weeks to find a way to save this woman who had stumbled into his path.

God help them both!

Achnacarry Castle

Brodie Mackintosh listened to the messenger’s grim news and nodded. The man bowed and stepped out of the chamber, leaving Brodie to face Arabella and her cousin. When the door shut, he walked to Arabella’s side and took her hand.

‘There’s been another attack, but this time it was Drumlui village.’ He’d discovered that his wife did not like prevarication when it came to distressing news, so he shared the rest of it. ‘Some damage. A number of injuries.’ He paused and took a breath. ‘Fia has been taken.’

‘Fia?’ Arabella said as she stood and shook her head in denial.

‘She was in the village when it happened. Just after the gates closed at sunset three days ago. Rob has sent out searchers and trackers. We will find her, Bella.’

‘She’s just a lass,’ she whispered. Ever since Arabella had met Fia in their camp, she had taken to her as though the girl was their own daughter. ‘What will happen to her, Brodie? We must find her.’

‘We will, Bella.’ Brodie faced Bella’s cousin who now sat in the chieftain’s chair of the Clan Cameron. In spite of Gilbert’s denials, Brodie still suspected some involvement. The man was greedy in a way that hearkened back to the original of their clans’ feud. In a way that even ruthless Euan never had been. ‘I would appreciate your help in this matter, Gilbert. The girl is kin.’

Though Gilbert nodded, Brodie sensed there was something more going on here.

‘Certainly,’ Gilbert said, nodding to his servant. ‘Send for Alan.’

Alan was The Cameron responsible for Brodie’s acquittal of charges of murdering Malcolm, Arabella’s brother and the man who was intended to be chieftain. He could find anything and anyone and Brodie had no one among his own kith and kin who was better.

‘My lord, he is away at Tor Castle now. He should return in two days,’ the servant replied.

‘Send word for him to go immediately to Drumlui Keep. The Mackintosh’s man will give him further instructions on his arrival.’