Page 10 of Her Highlander’s Dark Desire (Highlanders of Cadney #13)
CHAPTER NINE
T he trail Alayne had ridden down was easy to follow. The snow melt made the ground soft, and the hoofprints were so clear a half-blind drunkard might follow them. The fact didn’t improve Darren’s mood as he rode. In fact, it only made him angrier.
The paths were soft and treacherous, this time of year, with snow and ice and mud churning up to create an uncertain surface. Furthermore, if he could read the tracks, then so could others. Bandits were rare, but not unheard of on the isle, and any one of them could have followed the trail Alayne had left. Without a guard to accompany and protect her, she would be easy prey for such men, or indeed for any predator who happened across her.
And even if she avoided that fate, he knew well that she wasn’t particularly schooled in finding her way in unfamiliar lands. And certainly, she’d never been given any guide over his territory. For all she knew, she could ride over a cliff, or down an embankment, or get lost on a half-formed deer trail in the woods. It was pure luck she happened to be taking a trail down to one of the lochs the servants sometimes enjoyed visiting in summer.
By the time he reached the trail’s end, to find her dismounted and staring over the water, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, he was angrier than he’d been since Lyla had been kidnapped. It was all he could do to dismount and secure his horse before he snarled out a greeting.
At least she had the sense to scramble to her feet and away from him when he spoke. And she did have a knife at her belt, though she hadn’t drawn it. Another growl rose in his chest at the realization. Did she not understand that if he wished to hurt her, there was no way she could draw it fast enough to stop him?
For a moment, he thought she might have sense enough to apologize. Then her chin rose, eyes sparking defiantly as she faced him. “What are ye doing here?”
“What in the name o’ God dae ye think?” He snapped the words out, stalking forward in his anger. Alayne danced back, and Darren forced himself to stop with an effort. “Ye rode out without informing me o’ where ye were going, without taking even a guard tae watch over ye. Nay word when ye’d be back, where ye’d be going… ye could have slipped on snow or fallen intae a gully or got lost in the woods, and who would have kent tae look fer ye afore ye froze tae death?”
“I’m nae so poor a rider as all that.”
“Ye’re nae familiar enough with these lands tae be riding them unprotected.”
Anger filled her eyes. “I’m nae a child, nor a prisoner, tae be kept inside yer walls or shackled tae yer side.”
Darren clenched his fists. “I never said ye were. But I cannae keep ye safe if ye dinnae even tell me when ye leave.”
Her response was harsh, mocking laughter. “Safe? Caged rather. Yer bride o’ conquest, a prize tae show off.”
Darren felt his jaw clench in irritation. “I didnae say ye couldnae ride if ye wished. Only that ye needed an escort. If ye’d but mentioned the matter, I’d have sent someone with ye.”
“And who would I trust of yers, tae nae put a knife in me ribs? Then ye’d be rid of an inconvenient wife, and nae blame tae ye.”
Fury filled him, that she would question his honor in such a manner. “I’m nae that sort o’ man, and ye well ken it!”
“And why should I? The king’s messenger is gone, and ye’ve nae more need o’ me tae save face. Why would I trust ye, when ye never wanted me?” She spat the words, and they struck like whips of fire and venom. “Why would I entrust me life tae the hands o’ a man who put me braither in gaol after near killing him, and stood by while his kinfolk slew me faither?”
The thin threads of his control over his temper snapped. “Yer braither took me kinfolk hostage, and I didnae ken if he’d kill her or nae! And that, after he swore tae me that nae further violence would stand between our clans after yer faither died.”
“Ye still had me faither murdered and made nae restitution!”
“Aye! Yer faither was a bastard who used his daughter as a bargaining chip and tried tae hold me prisoner and beat me intae surrender! If I’ve aught I regret, ‘tis that I didnae kill him meself, fer being the wretched, ill-tempered, greedy and spiteful monster he was!”
“As if ye’d kenned aught about him! Ye think ye kent him, but ye didnae live with him! Me father…” She actually stepped toward him, her eyes blazing with a ferocity he might have appreciated another time. “He hated every breath I took, and never did he let me forget it. I couldnae eat, save what I scavenged from the kitchens, or Donall got fer me. I couldnae find clothing, save what I got from servants, and the rare dress from me maither’s wardrobe when he had tae present me tae someone else. Every time he was in his cups, or even if he thought I was breathing wrong, he’d thrash me until I could barely move!”
Tears sparkled in her eyes, but they were of fury as much as anguish. “More than once I thought he’d kill me, fer little or nae reason at all. More than once, I dreamed o’ killing him. But he was me faither, and I couldnae.”
She stepped closer, until they were scant inches apart, cheeks flushed and chest heaving as she spat more words at him. “Ye may think he was a monster fer what he did tae ye, and mayhap me, but ye’ve nae idea the depths he could sink tae. But monster or nae, he was me faither, and mine tae deal with, whether it was by death or some other manner. Mine and Donall’s. And as fer ye - ye dinnae get tae act as if ye did me a favor, when ye were the one who refused me safety and an escape, as well as bringing his wrath down upon me the worst.”
The words hit like knives to the gut, or a wave of icy water, quenching the worst of his fury with the uncomfortable truth of them. Darren caught his breath, wanting to refute them, knowing she spoke true, and utterly entranced by the way her anger had transformed her.
Honest anger, unlaced with poisonous bitterness or false courtesy, gave her eyes a vivid shine, and brought her face to life. The wind reddened her cheeks and, for the first time, she looked alive . Present and full of a confidence he hadn’t known she possessed.
As angry as he still was, he couldn’t help but admire the sight before him. Or suppress the urge to grab her shoulders and kiss her senseless, to see if that passion could be turned into a different sort of flame. He actually found himself leaning forward, his hand rising to cup her cheek.
Alayne startled, and seemed to realize how close she was. Her eyes widened, and she darted back, away from him and toward the trees.
Still dazed, Darren followed her movements, and his eyes spotted the tell-tale mark of a trapper’s snare, likely set by one of the castle servants. It was right at her heels, and another step would trigger it. “Alayne, wait…”
Too late. She stepped back, and the trap snapped a rope around her ankle and yanked her off her feet, into the branches several feet above.