Page 27 of Claimed by the Obsessed Laird (Highland Bride Hunt #1)

Chapter Nineteen

Isla let out a scream of frustration against the binding in her mouth, but it only made the rough fabric dig even deeper into her skin.

As Archie finally leapt down from the house, guiding the steed into a small cave just out of sight of the road, she tried to leap to the ground herself, but, with her hands bound in front of her, she fell with a painful thud, landing on her tail and letting out a cry of discomfort.

She had fought Archie from the very moment she had realized what he was trying to do, but she got the horrible feeling that it would not be enough to save her.

He had been practiced, prepared enough so that she wondered just how long he had been planning such an attack.

The moment he had seen her in the kind of state that he could take advantage of, he had, and now, she wasn’t sure if she would ever see Camron again.

He had bound her hands swiftly, wrapping a swatch of fabric around her head and stuffing it into her mouth to keep her quiet.

She could not cry out, but she had twisted and fought against him, trying to make as much of a fuss as she was able in the hopes that someone would see her and tell Camron what had happened…

Archie grabbed her and dragged her to her feet, pulling her roughly towards the cave and pinning her there.

“Ye still havenae learned, have ye?” he told her, his voice dropping to a terrifying warning tone.

All the charm that he had once worn had vanished, and now, the real Archie was peeping through, the one who she had been told about. That power-hungry man who would do whatever was in his command to take what he felt he was owed.

“Ye stop fighting, and I’ll untie ye,” he replied, tracing his hand down to the binding around her wrists.

She twisted away from him, letting out another groan of protest against her gag. The corner of his lip curled up derisively.

“Fine,” he muttered. “If that’s what ye want…”

He pushed her back against the hard surface of the rock, grabbing a length of rope from the bag that hung from the horse’s saddle; he wrapped it around her waist and yanked her backwards, lashing her to the craggy rock.

She strained against her newfound bindings, but it was no use.

Nothing was. Every movement she made only strained the rope against her harder, and she could not stop thinking about the child that might be within her at that moment.

Would they survive this torment? She could not let Archie hurt them, she must do anything to protect her unborn child.

She could only imagine what he might do to her given the chance.

She managed to force the gag from her mouth long enough to speak to him. If she could make him see what kind of danger he was putting her in, she might find a way out of this. And if she kept him talking… perhaps, at least, she could keep herself alive a little longer.

"Why are you doing this, Archie?” she pleaded with him. "Camrom has always been good to you, hasn’t he?”

He turned to her, and the mad look in his eyes was matched only by the wild sound of his laughter as he closed the distance between them.

"You really dinnae ken, do you?" he remarked, shaking his head slowly.

She withdrew from him, wishing more than anything that she could run, but she knew there was no point. He would catch her in no time, and what he might do to punish her didn’t bear thinking about.

"He’s always kept me in his shadow," he muttered, his eyes darkening. “Always put me down, made sure I knew exactly what he thought of me. He’s no decent Laird, he doesnae ken how to handle the problems in this place. The people need someone they can respect. Someone they can look up to. Someone who knows what has to be done.”

He was so furious, she could barely believe that he was talking of his own flesh and blood, his tone rising as he went on.

“And it’s high time that someone challenged him,” he continued. "High time someone did what needs to be down wi’ the Lairdship. I’d be a finer Laird for this land than he ever could be, and ye, Isla…”

He reached out for her, his fingers brushing along her cheek. She recoiled in horror, his touch like some foul brand on her skin.

“Ye’ll sit by my side when I do it.”

“What on earth are ye talking about?” she replied, her voice hitching with terror.

“Just because I dinnae believe he’s a good Laird doesnae mean I think he chose the wrong woman for the Ladyship,” he remarked, planting a hand on the wall beside her.

“As soon as I laid eyes on you, Isla, I knew that you could handle yerself. The way you treated the staff, yer rightful demands as a Lady, it proved to me that you knew yerself, you knew that these people were below ye.”

She had never loathed herself more than in that moment.

She wanted to scream to him that all of it had been for show, nothing more than an attempt to escape what she thought was a marriage she could never live up to, but she knew he wouldn’t have believed her.

He had spun a tale in his head about the kind of woman she was, and, in his twisted, paranoid mind, that was all she would ever be.

“He’ll come for ye, lass, dinnae worry,” he told her, a grin spreading further over his face.

“I’ve told ye before that yer husband is not the man ye think he is.

But I’ll prove that I can be more of a man than he ever could.

And make no mistake, I’ll raise this child as my own, too.

It’ll be the first of many we have together. ”

He stretched his hand out for her once more, but she twisted away, and he let out a grunt of irritation, shoving the gag back into her mouth.

She fell back against the rock. She could not fight any longer. She tried to peer past him towards the road outside, but she could not make out a thing, as though she was entirely separate from the world beyond.

“A true leader would never show weakness for the sake of the clan. If he wants ye back, he will bleed. If he fights me for the clan, he will bleed again. But do not fret, dear, I’ll take ye as mine after I kill him!”

Archie grinned maliciously, his joy at talking of murder making her tremble.

Isla closed her eyes, tears pricking her vision.

She could not let him see that he had managed to snake under her skin with such ease.

Because she didn’t know if Camron chose her, not truly.

She wanted to believe he was capable of love, but how could she know for sure?

He hadn’t been able to say it to her when she had come to him and pleaded for his attention, for just a moment of his time to salve the fear that had been coursing through her in that moment.

If he came after her at all—and she had to believe he would because the other option was too terrifying to consider—would he give Archie what he wanted to save her life?

But, before her mind could travel any further down that awful path, she heard the thundering of hooves approaching the cave.

She let out as close to a scream as she could manage, and she heard the hooves slowing and then, finally, coming to a halt.

Archie’s smile stretched further over his face, though she could have sworn she saw the barest hint of doubt there, too.

A moment later, Camron appeared in the entryway to the cave, outlined against the gloomy depths within. He went to rush towards her, but, before he could reach her side, his cousin blocked his path.

“Good of ye to finally come, cousin,” he remarked, his eyes flashing with a mad glee that made Isla’s stomach twist.

Camron locked eyes with her, a silent promise to her that he would not leave her there, and she tried her best to believe him.

“Give me my wife back, Archie,” he snarled, his voice low, still catching his breath from the ride he had just made from the Keep.

Isla had no idea how he had managed to catch them up, but the relief of his presence was enough to push any questions aside. She longed to reach for him, to take his hand in hers and draw him close, but the bindings cut into her wrists and gave her no choice but to stay in place.

“Aye, I will,” Archie replied, as he rested his hand on the sword in his belt. Camron mirrored his movements, gripping the weathered hilt of his blade. “But I want something in return, Camron.”

Camron’s jaw tightened, and Isla drew in a sharp breath. This was it—the proof, one way or another—of whether he was going to offer Archie anything in return for her freedom. If he loved her, if he truly loved her, surely he would be willing to give him anything he asked for, but if not…

“Ye think ye are in the position to demand things from yer Laird, Archie?”

Archie raised his eyebrows, pacing towards him.

“Och, ye know I can, Camron. It’s my right, after all,” he murmured.

Camron’s hand tightened on his sword, his knuckles nearly white as he gripped hard to the handle of the blade.

“What do ye want, Archie?”

“The Lairdship,” Archie replied, wrapping his mouth around the word like it had some kind of holy power. “I want the Lairdship.”

Camron let out a bark of laughter, the idea so ridiculous he would not even consider it.

“Ye think I can give you that?” he replied. “What’s been deigned mine by blood?”

“It’s my blood, too,” Archie countered, and the bitterness sprang forth in his tone.

“Just because ye were born the son of yer father and I of mine doesnae mean that the same blood doesn’t beat in our veins, the same right to that power.

Besides, ye have no heir yet. It’s my right to challenge ye. May the best prevail.”

“Ye have no right to it,” Camron snarled back at him. “Or to her. And if ye think I’ll let ye take either?—”

Before Camron could finish what he was saying Archie suddenly lunged forward, knocking Camron to the ground as he grabbed for his blade. Isla let out a scream of terror as Archie drew his sword and swung it high above his head, ready to bring it down on Camron’s unarmed form.