The Highlander's Curse (11 page)

“Shh.”
Cailen pulled on the horse’s reins and it lurched to the side, taking us into
the trees for probably the thirtieth time that day. “There’s someone comin’.”

“And
again I ask, what does that matter?” I whispered as the horse came to a stop
and Cailen swung down to the ground.

“We
dinna ken who it might be, nor their intentions if they come upon us. I’ve no’
many friends, and no’ one o’ them are on these clan lands.” He reached up and
helped me off the horse.

“So they’re
your enemies?”

“Likely,”
he replied, even quieter than before. Pressing a finger to his lips, he
silently shushed me before reaching up and taking the bags off our horse’s
back. “We’ll return for her later. If we take her any farther, she’ll lead others
tae us. Won’t ye, ye wee clumsy oaf?” he added adoringly, patting her on the
neck as she bent to eat. “Follow me, Elizabeth.”

The
Highlander took off through the brush, leaving me to hike up my dress and
attempt to follow. Between the skirts and the weird shoes, our trek took
forever. He’d stopped and turned back for me about three times before finally
stopping altogether. And it was about time, too. Any farther and I would have
turned back for the horse myself and taken off in search of freedom.

“This
should be far enough.” He bent, setting the bag on the ground and peering up at
me in the afternoon light.

I found
a spot to sit down and unbound one of my shoes, barely glancing at our tiny
picnic area. “God, that feels good,” I moaned at the first circle of my thumb
over my foot. Cailen’s eyes practically bugged out of their sockets. “What?”

He
blinked and looked down at the bag as he opened it. “I’ve ne’er seen a lass
behave so…hae ye nae manners?”

“Oh
jeez.” I dropped my foot and worked off my other shoe. “Manners have nothing to
do with it. The shoes here suck, and my feet are killing me. I’m seriously
afraid of what I’m going to see when I get this shoe off since I haven’t had a
chance to get to a
real
doctor or even put on the “special” medicine your
quack job gave me.”

The
Scot’s brows narrowed and he mouthed the words “quack job” to himself as he
extracted the tiny vial of medicine. He could just figure out what that meant
on his own. “Does it trouble ye so, lass? I wouldn’ae’ve gone so far had I kent
ye were discomforted.” Rising to his feet, he stepped toward me and dropped
down to the ground. “Would ye mind much if I looked at it?”

I
couldn’t deny him. Not with the way he’d looked so saddened by the fact I was
in pain. Also, because it meant someone else was going to deal with my wound so
I didn’t have to look at it myself. Lifting my foot, he took it in his hand and
gently pushed my skirt up a bit. His hands were rough and gentle at the same
time, and tingles ran up my leg and through every limb. When his progress
stopped at my knee, I nearly whimpered. That simple touch had been more than
welcome, even from a brute like Cailen. It came to a shock to realize that,
even with everything that had happened over the last few days, and the fact
that I basically hated him at the moment, I needed—and quite possibly
craved—more of this Highlander’s gentle, hesitant caresses.

His
eyes met mine and for the briefest of seconds, I wondered if he’d somehow heard
my thoughts. His eyes warmed, and I could have sworn that his breath picked up
just as mine did. Then our second was over, and he pulled his hand from my
knee.

“Ye can
uh…” The Scot’s throat cleared. “Ye may want tae get comfortable, Elizabeth. I’ll
rub the medicine in.”

“Are
you sure? I mean, you don’t really—”

“Oh,
aye. I can get a better look at it than ye can. Make yerself comfortable.”

After
eyeing him for a few more seconds, I did what he’d said. “Alright, that looks a
lot more comfortable down there in the grass.” Scrambling off my perch, I laid
in the grass and rested my head on my hands. Cailen’s touch returned. Warm
hands moved over my foot, his thumbs working in roaming circles from my heel to
my toes. My breathing quickened again and I let out another moan as the
pleasure shot up my leg and settled at my core. If he kept this up, he was
going to witness a lot more than just moaning. The Highlander’s hands froze and
I sat up, leaning on my elbows. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“Nae.
Nae need tae apologize.” he interrupted, and looked sheepishly at me. “I shouldn’ae’ve
spoken so rash earlier. It isn’ae yer fault yer no’ from ma time.”

“I
thought you were just going to apply the medicine.” I fell back again and
stared up at the branches above my head.

“I was
goin’ tae.” He cleared his throat again. “But I can see why ye’ve been in such
pain, yer shoes dinna fit as well as I’d hoped.”

“Yeah.”
I almost chuckled thinking of just how much didn’t fit. My shoes were only the
beginning. My dress didn’t fit me, and neither did the time and place I was
stuck in. The entire time we’d been sneaking through the forest, my feet had
slipped back and forth on the leather.

“Dinna
fash. I think I ken how tae fix it. Ye may just need more holes along the top so
we can strap them on tighter.” He set once more to rubbing my foot, and I laid
back, doing whatever I could to keep from making the sounds that threatened to
escape my mouth. For someone who’d probably never given anyone a massage in his
life, he was masterful at it. I relaxed, staring at the backs of my eyelids,
letting the soothing touch of Cailen’s hands rub one foot, and then the other.

My eyes
flashed open when an unexpected scent hit my nose, and I sat up to see the
Highlander sitting over a small fire, cooking some sort of meat.

“Awake
then?” he asked.

I
yawned and rubbed my eyes. “I fell asleep?”

“Aye o’er
an hour ago. I was able tae catch us somethin’ tae eat and build a fire.” He
grinned as though my nap had lasted a millennium.

I wasn’t
about to ask him what tiny creature he was roasting over the fire. I’d learned
my lesson from that poor little bunny rabbit we’d had that first night. If I
didn’t know what died or what I was eating, I couldn’t imagine it running
around, enjoying its life until it was brutally taken from it.

That
was me: Scarlett Michaelson—Animal Lover.

I got
to my feet and made my way over to him, careful to avoid anything that looked
hard or sharp. My feet were still bare, but I was thrilled that they weren’t
hurting either. At least, not other than a gentle throb in my one toe.

“Ye’ll
want tae keep off o’ it,” the Highlander said, pointing at my foot. “I put some
salve on it, but it looked like it needed tae breathe.”

“Thanks.”
I peered at him as he hunched over the meat, testing its doneness with his
fingers. I stepped toward him. “How’s your arm?”

“Oh.”
He peered down at his bandaged arm. “It’s well. The doctor gave me some salve
for it as well.”

“I
haven’t seen you put any on.”

“I
haven’ae.”

I
chuckled. “You’ve got to put it on. Where is it?” As he reached into his
sporran, I pulled on the ties and started unwrapping his arm, revealing the
long slash from the boar’s tusk. Cailen tensed, and my pulse quickened.

“I
thought he was a ‘quack job’,” he said quietly.

Dashing
some salve on his arm, I started rubbing it in, careful not to put too much
pressure on his red, angry cut. I peered up, meeting his eyes. “Something is
better than nothing, don’t you think?”

The
Highlander stilled my hand, his gaze traveling from my eyes down to my lips and
back up again. “I’m startin’ tae.”

The
meat’s juices hissed and spit as they dropped into the fire. He bent quickly,
turning it over so the other side could cook.

I
stepped away, shaking my head at my own foolish thoughts. What had just
happened? Letting out a silent breath, I sat on a moss covered boulder surrounded
by thick bushes. “Do you want any help?”

Cailen
grunted, focusing on the cooking meat. “Just rest. We’ve still more journey
ahead o’ us.”

He
finished cooking and we ate in silence, with only minor comments on how tasty
our meal was. The food in the past—in this current time—was so different than
that of my own time. I’d been camping with my dad and brother enough times to
know that tinfoil dinners and Dutch Oven Mountain Dew Chicken were staples in
the wilderness. But here, we only had the land around us to survive on. Toilet
paper didn’t exist, but leaves did. Dutch ovens weren’t around yet—or at least,
I didn’t think they were. Coolers, tents, sleeping bags, motor homes: none of
those luxuries were even invented yet.

As soon
as the meat was gone, I rubbed the last of my hand sanitizer on and reapplied
Cailen’s bandage, doing my best to avoid his stare, and hopefully, avoid the
tension we’d shared earlier.

He
peered at the wrap just like he’d done before and smirked at me. “That’s a tidy
dressin’. Dae ye often take care o’ savage boar injuries?”

I
laughed. “No. Never.”

The
Scot chuckled and kicked dirt onto the fire, extinguishing the flames after his
first few kicks. “We should get back tae our mare—”

“Bud,”
I interrupted.

“Eh?”

“I
named her Bud.” I’d thought long and hard about what to name her during our
ride today, as well as during lunch. And though there were certainly more
feminine names, it just seemed fitting to name her after the beer that would,
one day, be responsible for her breed’s popularity.

“Ye
shouldn’ae get attached tae her,” he said. “We’ve only purchased her tae ease
our trip tae Kilninver. I ken some men there that we can barter wi’for a boat
tae Mull.” Cailen picked up his satchel and tossed it over his shoulder. “We’ve
only a few hours’ time before we lose our light, and I’d like tae reach the
loch before it gets too late.”

I
hobbled over to where my shoes were and carefully threaded the ties and wrapped
my feet. Cailen had added a few extra holes, making the shoes fit tighter
against my toes. Hopefully that would keep them from slipping.

“Wow.
Thanks,” I said. When he looked at me questioningly, I gestured to the shoes.

“Och,
dinna thank me yet. We’ve a long way tae go still.”

Scooping
up my purse, I made sure my heels and regular clothes were still securely bound
to it, and then slid it over my head so it laid across my body.

Our
trip back to Bud seemed to go a bit faster than before, and once her white nose
came into view, I sighed and sped up to reach her. “Hello, sweetheart. Did you
have a nice lunch break?” I petted her soft, velvety nose and scrambled back as
she tried to nibble at my hair. I turned then, laughing as she made another
play for my hair, only to see Cailen approaching slowly, his face sullen. “What’s
wrong?”

His
eyes were locked on to something behind me and I peeked over my shoulder. There
was another man there, another Scot wearing a kilt and a filthy sweat-soaked
shirt. His gaze flicked back and forth between us, but his pistol was trained
on me.

“If ye’d
like tae see the lass get shot point blank,” he said to Cailen. “Then by all
means, keep walkin’.”

He
stopped.

“Now
there’s a good lad. Drop yer weapons and nae one will get hurt.”

“Says
ye, Angus.” Another man said as he stepped from the surrounding trees. “I’ll be
makin’ nae such promises.” I tried to turn, to react to his voice, but
something went over my head and cinched around my neck, and I was plunged into
darkness.

“I told
ye someone would happen by,” the first one said.

The two
Scots laughed and an arm wound around my waist, and  up past my stomach to cup
my breast.

“And
what a braw lass she is.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

I hated Scotland. The
place was riddled with thieves and kidnappers, and as I’d learned over the last
while, perverts.

I could
hardly move as I was held, bound and blindfolded, to one of the Scots. It may
have been the one who’d bagged my head that gripped me, but since I couldn’t
see a thing, it was really hard to tell. All I knew was that he was pretty hard
up, thrusting against me as we rode toward wherever it was we were going. It
terrified me to the core, especially considering the vulgar remarks I’d heard
since our capture.

Cailen
was somewhere nearby. That was the only beacon of light in my otherwise black
abyss. He was the sole reason I was riding on Bud, even if it was with a
Scottish piece of crap degenerate who thought me nothing more than a moving
object he could mount.

If he
tried anything more than he had already, he’d be losing his favorite appendage.

Every
once in a while we stopped, either to allow Bud to drink, or because the
walking Highlanders grew tired. My bag hadn’t been removed from my head even
once. As far as I could tell, neither had Cailen’s. It was his voice that kept
me from hysterics. I thought maybe he was purposely talking a lot—and doing a
great job at annoying our kidnappers—to make sure I knew he was there. I tried
to do the same. Whenever I had the chance, I’d say something loudly, just so he’d
know I was alright.

Or at
least, I hoped I was. I hoped we both were.

The
sounds of the forest gave way to the soft swishing of grass dancing in the
wind, and then to voices of men, women, and children. Quiet at first, they grew
louder with each passing minute until we were surrounded. I’d only heard a few
muttered words in English. Most of the people spoke Gaelic, and even though I
couldn’t understand them, I guessed at the general gist of what was said. Those
in this town—or wherever we were—asked who I was, who Cailen was. The men who
held us captive gave short, clipped answers, invoking no other questions. I
wished I knew what they’d said.

Bud’s
gentle trot came to a halt and the bastard behind me dropped to the ground,
pulling me with him. Once on my feet, I stretch my legs and back, nearly
groaning from the ache in my body. “Cailen?” I yelled through the bag.

“Aye, I’m
here.” He wasn’t very close.

One of
the Scottish thugs wrenched on my arm, and I tried to pull free. “Let go of me,
you stupid bastard!”

“Shut
yer gob. Yer comin’ wi’me.”

“No!
Let me go!”

Even
Cailen began yelling and through the sounds of my attempts at fighting, I heard
grunts as my friend probably tried to escape his guards.

I fought,
but he dragged me to a place I didn’t know and couldn’t see. My feet skidded
over dirt and rocks, and then up two stairs and over a rough, creaky floor.

“That’ll
dae, Finlay,” a rough voice barked. “Ye’ll no’ harm a lady under ma roof.”

“But
she’s a trespasser,” the one holding me argued. “She was on our land, wi’out so
much as an invitation or permission tae pass through.”

“That
may be, but I will’nae see her hurt until we get things sorted.”

Until?

Someone
stepped closer, their shoes thudding on the wood floor and echoing around the
room. The bag over my head was loosened at the neck, and then pulled gently
free. It wasn’t bright inside, but I still blinked at the sudden change from
pitch black. My gaze met the steel gray eyes of a man who was probably in his
late thirties. My first thoughts were that his nose was a bit too big, and his
eyes were a bit too small. He was dressed well—for what I’d gleaned of this
time—and his salt and pepper hair was pulled back at the nape.

“She’s
nae more than a lass. Where did ye find her?”

“Just
off the road, no’ far from Bhearraidh
.”

“Alone?”

Finlay
remained quiet for a second or two. “She was wi’a man.”

“Did ye
capture him as well?”

“We
did.”

The man
flicked his gaze at me before returning it to Finlay. “And where is he?”

“Angus,
Gordon and Ranald are takin’ him tae Neil’s tae be…held, for now.”

“Nae.” He’d
barely taken his eyes off me. “Bring him tae me. We must learn who they are
before we dae anythin’ rash.”

“Aye.”
Finlay’s hold on me released and he shuffled out the door, slamming it behind
him. Once I was alone with the other man, he finally spoke again.

“Gi’us
yer name then, hen.”

I
lifted my chin. Might as well stick to the lie I’d been feeding Cailen since
day one. “Elizabeth.”

“No’ a
Scot then?” he said, surprised. “And where might ye be from?”

“A
place you’ve never heard of.”

His
eyes sparkled with amusement as a wide grin spread across his face. “Verra
well. I’m Donnan MacDougall.” He bowed. “‘Tis a pleasure tae make yer
acquaintance.”

I
couldn’t put my finger on what wigged me out about Donnan MacDougall, but there
was definitely something there. Maybe it was that look in his eyes that put me
on edge, or maybe it was something else. No matter what it was, I didn’t trust
him.

Footsteps
sounded outside, and the door swung open, admitting three Highlanders and
Cailen, who was no longer blinded by a bag.

“Ah,”
Donnan said. “Our other guest. Please, Elizabeth, would ye kindly hae a seat?
There’s some business we men must discuss.”

My eyes
met Cailen’s, and he gave me a single, almost imperceptible nod. Crossing to
the nearest wooden bench, I sat down and watched as Donnan circled Cailen, his
hands behind his back as he eyed my Highlander. Cailen merely stood there, his
chin high as he returned Donnan’s glare. He couldn’t have really done anything
else, not with the way the others kept their grasps on his arms and shoulders.

I
couldn’t help but notice how impressive Cailen was. It took three other men to
hold him there, almost as though they knew that if there were any less, that my
Highlander would overpower them and break free. Not that he tried anyway. Our
entire journey here, I hadn’t heard any evidence of him trying to escape. Not
until I’d tried to fight just outside this house.

“Now,
ye’re a Scot,” Donnan said, halting just in front of him.

Cailen
lifted his chin, and I smiled. Funny how he did the same thing I had.

“No’ on
yer clan lands?”

“Nae.”

“I
suspect ye ken what happens when ye cross intae other clan lands, wi’out
permission.”

Even
from the bench, and being half-blocked by Donnan MacDougall, I could see Cailen’s
jaw tighten. “I dae. And I ken the borders well enough tae ken that yer men
nabbed ma lady and me from Argyll land.”

The
other man peered over his shoulder, his brows raised as his gaze met mine. I
couldn’t believe Cailen had just said I was his. I kind of liked it. Donnan
faced my Highlander again. “Yer lady, is it?”

“Aye,
she is.”

Wow.
My heart started to hammer. How could such
a simple statement make me want to run him and let him take me into his arms?
Why hadn’t I realized until then that I’d been desperate to hear it?

“What’s
yer name, MacKinnon?”

“Ma
name is o’ nae concern o’ yers.”

MacDougall
stepped back, and one of his gofers punched my Highlander in the stomach.
Cailen doubled over, but was quickly righted at the insistence of his guards.

“I had
hoped this would be a
civil
meeting—”

“Any hope
o’ that vanished the minute yer baheided numpty bagged ma lady and strangled
her,” my Scot interrupted.

That
stopped Donnan, and he peered over at Finlay, who shrugged. “And for that, I
dae apologize. Nae harm should’ae come tae anyone, especially a wee hen such as
Elizabeth.”

At
hearing my name, Cailen’s eyes turned dark as he glowered menacingly, his lips
tightening into a hard line.

“And
from what ma men hae told me, ye were on our land. Isn’ae that right?”

“Aye,”
the three lackeys barked.

I still
couldn’t see the expression on Donnan’s face, but there was no doubt in my mind
Cailen would have sent the man to an early grave if looks alone could kill.

“Take
him tae Neil’s and make sure he’s secure. I’ll let ye decide on yer own who’s
tae watch him.”

“And
what o’ her?” one of his men asked.

“The
lass will be stayin’ wi’me. Dinna fash, MacKinnon, I’ll be sure tae keep her
warm.” Donnan turned his back on Cailen, a big smile on his face as my
Highlander spat a bunch of words I couldn’t understand, and tried to wrench his
arms out of their grasps.

His
desperation to break free sent a shot of panic through me. “I really think I
should stay with him.”

MacDougall
approached me as the three other men hauled Cailen from the building. “Nae, ye’ll
be stayin’ right here wi’me.”

****

“Ye dinna hae a husband o’
yer own?”

“No,” I
replied, shaking my head. I’d remained in the same spot I’d been in when Cailen
was escorted from MacDougall’s cabin. One of the lackeys returned minutes
later, placing Cailen’s sporran, knives, and sword just inside the door.

My
Highlander was weaponless.

Donnan
had tried talking to me over the last couple hours, but I’d only given him
short answers. He didn’t seem to get the hint that I wanted nothing to do with
him. His cabin was more or less empty of furnishings. The place had two
benches, a table, and a fireplace with a cauldron in it, and lastly, a bed.
Other than the benefit of having a roof over his head, I was starting to see
why Cailen chose to rough it in the woods.

“What
is MacKinnon tae ye?”

“That’s
not really any of your business.” I had no idea. I wanted Cailen, my desire for
him grew more and more every day. Did he want me the same way? Or had that
whole
mine
business just been for Donnan? No matter the answer, I wanted
a chance to talk to him about it. What if he’d meant to be my husband?

MacDougall
took a sip of his soup and eyed me as he set his spoon back into the bowl. “I
wish I could interest ye in some broth.”

“I’m
not hungry.” I replied. “I just want to get back to…MacKinnon.”

“Ye
ken, I’ve ma own quarters at Dunollie House.”

“That’s
nice.” What the crap was he getting at?

“I used
tae share them wi’ma wife, Sara, but she died earlier this year.”

I
glanced at Donnan at the sound of his voice. He didn’t sound saddened by his wife’s
death in the slightest. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She died
in child birth. Neither she nor our bairn survived.”

I
remained silent, my hackles rising at the deadpan tone in his voice. He
seriously didn’t care about Sara or their baby. What a prick!

“We’re
goin’ tae Dunollie in the morn. MacKinnon is tae be tried by ma brither for
trespassin’. He’s the chieftain, ye ken.”

Okay, Donnan
was clearly trying to impress me. Was it working? Not even a little bit.

“Ma
clan has somethin’ o’ an issue wi’the Clan MacKinnon. One made an attempt on ma
nephew’s life. ‘Tis no’ verra likely that ma brither will let yer friend live.
But…there may be somethin’ I can dae tae save him.” He leaned forward, his
elbows resting on his knees as he reached out and touched my knee. “An
arrangement, perhaps.”

I
slapped his hand and yanked my knee out of his reach.

Undaunted,
he leaned forward again. “I could make ye ma wife. I’ve plenty o’ money tae
provide for ye.”

“No
thanks. Seriously.”

“If no’
ma wife, then why no’ be mine this night?” He stood and took the space next to
me on the bench. He gripped my thigh and I bolted upward, dashing toward the
door.

Donnan
caught me quickly and yanked me away from the only exit I’d spotted in this
shack.

“Ye
dinna need tae run,” he grunted, still pulling me farther into the room. I
tried to throw my elbows at him, but he’d pinned my arms against my body. “I’ll
be gentle wi’ye.”

“I’m
not a whore! And I will never marry someone like you!”

“Oh, ye
will, hen. Ma brither is the chieftain. We’ll be mairrit in the morn, whether
ye like it or no’.”

I
stilled, breathing heavily as Donnan’s hand skimmed up my skirt. He tried to
pull off my purse, but I kept my hand on it, refusing to let him take it off of
me. Giving up on that, he grabbed my breast and nuzzled my neck. “Look at me.”

I
turned slowly, meeting his gaze dead on. My heart was beating so wildly that I
felt my blood thrum through my body. If he loosened his hold for even a second,
I was taking a crotch shot.