Page 106 of The Forest Bride

“A girl slipped away from his castle. He wants her back. It is not important.”

“Who is this?” Menteith demanded, riding up. “This is not Lady Elisabeth! You have the wrong one. Who are you, girl!” He reined his horse in beside De Soulis and glared at her.

She moved again, and De Soulis angled his horse again, a hoof nearly trampling her foot.

“This is Lady Margaret Keith,” De Soulis said. “My betrothed, sir.”

“Keith! One of the Kincraig Keiths? What do you mean, betrothed?”

“I am Margaret Keith. But he is not my betrothed.” She lifted her chin. “I will leave the two of you to your business.” As she moved aside again, De Soulis swung his horse around, the broad rump nearly knocking her over. He leaned down and grabbed the front of her gown, his strong grip taking a great fistful of gown and cloak.

“You are coming with me.” He hauled her up, and though she tried to writhe out of his powerful grip, he dragged her over his saddle and planted her in front of him painfully. She fell across him and was trapped by his steel-covered arm.

The brooch! But she felt its pinch inside her sleeve. She still had it.

“William, what the hell are you doing?” Menteith snarled.

“Keeping her with me. We had a lovers’ quarrel.”

Menteith huffed. “You are here for a far more important matter. Did you find her?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Do you mean Lady Elisabeth?” Margaret snapped. She prayed Duncan and the others were gone, but she would delay these fellows as long as she could.

“What!” Menteith and De Soulis said together.

“I was with the party escorting Lady Elisabeth when she was taken. Your men killed some of our knights and captured others. But I got away.”

“I know nothing of this,” Menteith said.

“You do. Your men did it all on your order. Why?”

“Accusing a sheriff unfairly will bring you dire punishment, girl. Be careful what you say. You have no proof of this.”

“The brooch that was stolen from me that day is my proof,” she said. “You had it at the archery contest, but when Duncan Campbell did not claim it, you gave it to William de Soulis.”

“You wanted that thing so you could accuse Sir John!” De Soulis shook her so hard that she grappled for balance, nearlyfalling. But she might be able to slide down and get away, she thought. She had done it before.

“Those lies will land you in a kettle of trouble!”

“I was there on the archery field. How is your foot, Sir John?”

“You!” he roared. “I knew I had seen you before—a redhaired girl was in the village with a lad. That boy must be the one who shot me! Where is he?”

“He did not shoot you. But that wound gave others time to find Lady Elisabeth.” She pushed against De Soulis.

“Who found her? Where is she?” Menteith demanded.

“Give me that brooch!” De Soulis barked.

“William, shut up! That can wait,” Menteith snapped. “Look over there! Someone is near the waterfall. Go after him, you fool!”

De Soulis obeyed, spurring his horse with Margaret clinging in his lap. Menteith shouted and the knights followed, Menteith as well, barreling toward the gorge.

Jostled on the horse, Margaret feared they had seen Duncan, perhaps the others. Bounced mercilessly, she clung until De Soulis slowed his horse when he could ride no closer. They had come to a barrier wall of rugged bedrock and tangled trees edging a channel of rushing water.

Reining in, De Soulis pushed Margaret out of his way as he dismounted, so that she fell hard to earth, stunned, crawling to hands and knees. He thumped to the ground beside her and yanked her to her feet.