Highland Sparks (Clan Grant #5) (4 page)

Chapter Five

Gwyneth took the lead since she was quite sure she knew where they might find the lassies. The surprising thing was that Logan did not raise an objection. He was such a beast she hadn’t expected him to listen to her. Originally furious she’d been forced to ride with him, she was grateful for it at present because his heat warmed her insides. She probably should have eaten something before joining them outside the priory, but she’d worried they would leave without her. Her brother had warned her many times of the importance of keeping yourself strong. How in hell had Logan noticed her tremors?

She knew Glasgow very well after searching for Erskine for seven years. Unfortunately, she had always been a bit behind him. The scum moved quickly. After they had ridden for a bit, they found themselves in an area that looked a bit suspicious; tight rows of unkempt huts filling the area with no one visible because the townspeople preferred to stay hidden. Once Dougal Hamilton had officially hired her as a spy for the Scottish Crown, she had made it her business to know all of Glasgow. This area was the most likely area for Malcolm to hide his lackeys. The area was very poor and no one would pay attention to them here.

Gwyneth signaled for the group to stop and investigate. This had been an early haunt for Duff Erskine, but now that his wealth had grown, he would never be caught in a section of town like this. Her nose wrinkled at the odor of sewage and waste piled in front of the huts. A creek ran behind the rows of ramshackle shelters, probably their only source of water. Given the amount of sewage nearby, it was a wonder anyone managed to live here. This section of town was just the area she had guessed they would find the two lowlifes who held Ashlyn and Gracie.

Logan dismounted, sliding Gwyneth slowly down his body, his grin heating Gwyneth’s anger. Fie, but the beast must learn to keep his hands to himself. He would pay for touching her. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she swung and clobbered Logan in the side of his head with her fist. To her surprise, Logan spun her around immediately, as if expecting her attack, and held her in a vise grip in front of him. Gwyneth struggled to free herself but couldn’t move the brute. Logan was big, broad-shouldered, and built with solid muscle. Robbie stood to the side with Tomas, watching the two of them battle without moving to stop them. No need for them to interfere, she would handle the animal herself.

“Leave me be, you rutting bull.” Gwyneth tried to kick him, but he held her fast. Powerless. Hellfire, but she was powerless again, just as she had been with Erskine. Just as she’d been on that boat until the Norsemen boarded it. Duff had drugged her enough so she couldn’t fight. This was worse because she was completely alert, yet she was still powerless against Ramsay. It was not to be borne.

Logan squeezed her back against his chest and spoke into her ear. “Now, do I have complete control of you, lass?”

“Aye, leave off, you surly brute!” She fought until her face was beet red, spitting and kicking at anything she could.

“Remember that. I have complete control over you. You have no power over me without your weapons. Agreed?”

“Aye,” she hissed.

“Then learn something. I will never hurt you or force you. If I wanted to, I could throw you down on that ground and rut all I wanted. But I won’t. Do you know why?”

The only sound from Gwyneth was a low growl as she fought to free herself from Logan’s grip.

“Verra well, I’ll tell you though you’re not inclined to listen, please hear me and heed me.”

Gwyneth managed one kick to his shin as she squirmed in place.

“Lass, I will never hurt you. I don’t hurt women. ‘Tis not part of me nor is it in my friends. You need to accept that. There are two kinds of men, those who hit lassies and those who don’t. ‘Tis unfortunate the only men you have met are rutting snipes, but I’m not. I like my lassies willing and I never hit.”

He continued his soft whispers into her ear, and she feigned acceptance, though she was determined she would repay him—come what may. Perhaps he wouldn’t hit her or rut with her against her will, but he still did not have the right to imprison her. She hoped someday he would know how it felt to be powerless. There was not a worse feeling in the world, and she’d promised herself she would never experience it again. Now she’d been its victim twice in a matter of days. She held back her tears, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt to be overpowered, both body and spirit.

“But I will protect myself. Can you promise not to hit me or my friends? I won’t let you go until you agree.”

His words fell on deaf ears because her mind raged with all the atrocities of the past two days. She fought to calm her rage—at her captors, at her enemy, against this man’s confining grip. She thought of her brother’s calming nature and how she missed him, forcing her to again cover up her feelings and deal with what she had to for the moment. If she didn’t do as Logan asked, he would never release her. Still, she couldn’t just give in to him. And somehow, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

Logan continued. “I am here to save the wee lassies. I have a niece named Lily whom I adore, and she is a bit older than Gracie. I would kill any man who dared to hurt her. So you need to decide. Will you join us to help retrieve the lassies or will you continue to try to make me pay for whatever atrocities you have been forced to endure which will slow down our rescue considerably?”

He had to mention the one thing that would calm her on the spot—Gracie. A tear slid down her cheek before she nodded.

“I am going to let you go, and I swear on the saints above, if you swing at me, I will tie you to that tree while we search for the lassies. We didn’t bring you along for you to attack us.” Logan relaxed his arms, and she shoved away from him.

Gwyneth swallowed three times before she spoke. Much as she wanted to retaliate, much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Caralyn’s daughters were what mattered right now. She could exact her revenge later.

Robbie finally broke his silence. “Think hard, Gwyneth. I’ll help him tie you to that tree if need be. I am here for Ashlyn and Gracie. Are you?”

She conceded for now, but vowed the beast would still pay later. “Aye. Tell me what to do. I can kill Logan while he sleeps tonight.” Not fully trusting herself, she clasped behind her back.

“Is this the most likely area, Gwyneth?” Robbie asked.

“Aye, some are just poor, but many are questionable.”

Robbie noticed she refused to look at Logan.

“Any particular row?” Tomas asked.

“Nay, they could be anywhere. We need to look closer.”

Robbie gave instructions for his plan. “I want each of you to search around both rows of cottages and see if you see any sign of weans. Mayhap we’ll hear voices or crying, anything. ‘Tis an area with many cottages because of the creek. If you look in that direction, I think you’ll find another row around the bend in the creek. Meet back here in the next hour.”

Gwyneth took off toward the stream. She didn’t need any man behind her; she could find the lassies without them. Carefully checking each cottage, she searched for any clues that a bairn was inside. After passing several cottages, she finally found what she had been looking for—a pile of wean’s rags.

She turned and ran back to find Captain Grant. Though she would love to save the girls herself, she was not willing to take chances. The Highlanders could help her get inside the cottage.

“What is it, Gwyneth?” Robbie asked as she headed straight for him.

She paused to catch her breath. “Rags,” she panted.

“What?” Robbie asked, his face a puzzle.

“Raggies. A wean’s rags.” She pointed the cottage. “A whole pile of urine drenched rags are in front of that hut.”

Robbie made his bird call to summon the others, and Tomas and Logan rushed to his side. “I think we may have them if Gwyneth is correct.” He pointed to the hut in question. “Gwyneth, you go to the door to see if the lasses are there and how many guards are watching them. Ask for the nearest tavern and act as if you are lost. I promise to guard you while Tomas and Logan go around back.”

Gwyneth stumbled up the front path, making a ruckus while Robbie got in place, and the other two ran around the back.

A slim woman opened the door, a wee bairn on each hip. Gwyneth stood there staring, realizing they had chosen the wrong house. Her gaze searched the inside, but there were no other weans in sight. “Mistress, I seem to have made a mistake. Are there any other bairns in the area? Two wee lassies? I came to visit my friend.”

The woman shook her head and started to close the door, then paused. “Aye, I did see two lassies outside taking care of their needs yesterday. One was brown-haired and the other blonde. They be at the end of the path.” Her finger pointed down toward the creek.

“My thanks.” Gwyneth nodded and the door closed. She turned to Robbie and he whistled for his friends to join them out front.

As soon as Logan and Tomas returned, Tomas said, “Nay? Wrong place?”

Robbie said, “Aye, but she directed us to the cottage we need. Same plan, down the path.”

Gwyneth stumbled up the path again as Logan and Tomas snuck around back. The front door swung open, just as they’d planned, and an overweight dolt appeared in the doorway.

“Fingal, look what I found.” His eyes lit up as he reached for Gwyneth. “A plaything. We have something to entertain us.”

Gwyneth glared at the fool, barely managing to stifle the urge to swing at him and stomp on his foot. She had to get inside the room to determine if the girls were there. She brushed her breasts across his arm invitingly, and he stilled, staring at her with wide eyes. Grabbing her by the arm, he tugged her inside, chuckling as he closed the door behind him.

The dolt’s friend sat in a chair by the back door, stuffing his face with food. Much younger than the dolt, he was slim with spittle all over his face as he licked his fingers. A small dagger sat on the table, but well away from his grasp. “I’d rather eat. Do as you wish.” He barely gave her a glance.

Gwyneth squelched her urge to snort. Ignoring her could cost someone their life, but he was too stupid to know it.

“Fingal, no wonder mama liked you better. All you ever think of is feeding your belly.”

Fingal countered, “Well, apparently I never fed my belly the way you did.” He gave his brother’s girth a pointed look.

Searching the room once her eyes adjusted to the light, Gwyneth finally located the two girls huddled together in the corner. She also caught the light of recognition in Ashlyn’s eyes so she gave the lass a pointed look and shook her head just a bit to get the message to her not to speak. Gracie started toward her, but her elder sister held her back.

The big man who’d pulled her inside was reaching for her, his eyes full of lust, when Tomas burst through the back door, Logan directly behind him. Not missing a beat, the dolt yanked Gwyneth back against him and held a knife to her throat. The one named Fingal reached for the girls, but Tomas twirled him around and backed him up against the wall with his sword at his throat.

Robbie crept in behind her, “Let her go, and my friend will release your comrade.”

Gwyneth wasn’t helpless. She had to do something, but the putrid smell of the brute who’d attacked her—the odor of a man who hadn’t bathed in weeks—suddenly assaulted her and her vision clouded in response. Her stomach clenched so strongly in reaction to the smell that she couldn’t move. Powerless, it was happening to her again. How could a mere odor control her? But she knew. It was the same odor she had smelled on Duff Erskine seven years ago and the same odor as the Norseman. It would never leave her. Now Duff covered it with a sickening smell.

The big lout shook with fear, though his grip stayed tight. “Nay, let Fingal go and we’ll leave. You can have the lassies. Let him go, or I’ll cut her throat.”

Logan strode farther into the room, moving until he was almost within reach of Gwyneth and the dolt. What in hell was he thinking? Gwyneth stared at Logan, hoping to send him the message to stand back. She didn’t want this lout to lose it and kill her. Sweat beaded across her brow as she sensed the tremor in the fool’s hand.

Hot stinking breath huffed into her ear, and she cringed in response. “One more step and I’ll kill her. Let us go, and you can have all three bitches.”

Gwyneth glanced at the lassies in the corner, at Fingal held in place by Tomas, and at Logan Ramsay. How would they get out of this without anyone being hurt? The edge of the knife cut her skin directly in front of her windpipe. One small move and she wouldn’t be able to take a breath again. She fought to clear her head and not weaken at her circumstances.

Logan’s voice called to her as he spoke to the man holding her captive. “That would be impossible.” A smirk crossed Logan’s face. “That’s my lass you have your hands on.”

Logan glanced at her for just a moment, and she drew strength from his gaze. One look empowered her, because with one look she knew he would always be there for her, to protect her as no one else had been able to do. Gwyneth struggled not to react to his declaration because it confused her. Would she want his protection?

She took her gaze from him and glanced at Ashlyn, huddled with her sister. Hoping to give the girl strength, she smiled at her before returning her focus to her captor.