But it also meant Rory’s chance of catching up to them before they reached their destination was slimming down. If they’d not stopped except to rest the horses, they’d easily get to Cameron lands by this afternoon. And therein lay Rory’s other problem. He wasn’t even exactly sure where they would’ve gone, since the Cameron laird moved around. Rory had an inkling where he might be residing at the moment, based on what someone had said at the wedding feast, but if he were wrong, then Juliana might very well disappear into the mists—just as the MacGregors had done for so many decades.
He cursed again, aloud this time. The woman had been a thorn in his side since she’d come with her sisters to Strae Castle this past summer. She was prickly as a thistle and never failed to put him in his place—or, at least,tryto. She’d challenged nearly everything he said. Yet he enjoyed sparring with her…only to provehewas right, of course. But he had to admit—he also liked provoking her temper. Her hair seemed to bristle and flame as though it was on fire. There was something about seeing her riled—her ginger-colored eyes blazing with indignation—that oddly appealed to him. Aroused him, even, if he were totally honest with himself. Which was just another thing about her that was irritating. He preferred biddable lasses who succumbed to his charm and were happy to have his attention. Juliana had none of those traits, and he certainly didn’t want to bearousedby her. Good God almighty.
He looked across the burn once more, looking for any sign that they’d crossed, but didn’t see any. The Camerons had come this far, but the trail ended here. He frowned. Perhaps they’d been clever enough to take the horses into the water and follow the stream a ways to avoid detection. If they did, it meant they suspected they were being followed.
Gathering his reins, he patted his horse once more, then mounted. “Looks like ye will be getting wet feet for a bit.”
He couldn’t just lose Juliana to the hills and mists. He couldn’t go back empty-handed. It wasn’t Ian’s wrath he feared, but the looks on the faces of her sisters when he had to explain that he’d failed. He set his mouth in a tight line. Not if he could help it. Hewouldfind her.
…
Juliana was tired, sore, dirty, and disheveled the next afternoon when Neal signaled for his group to stop atop a ridge that overlooked a small glen. Except for several stops to rest the horses, they had continued on for a day and a half. Neal had kept well away from roads, staying hidden in the forests, not approaching a village or anything that came close to a coaching inn. Which meant there’d been no opportunity to escape. Unfortunately, her last attempt had resulted in being watched constantly, so she’d not had the chance to relieve herself, either. She really was out of sorts.
“Is that it?” she asked, pointing to a two-story stone building in the distance, surrounded by a number of buildings and a wooden fence. “Where we are going?”
“Aye. ’Tis home for now,” Neal answered.
“Finally.”
He gave a raucous laugh. “Are ye so anxious to get married, then?”
She rolled her eyes, although he couldn’t see it since she was still sitting in front of him in the saddle. “I amanxiousto get off this horse. I amanxiousto speak to your father about the stupidity of abducting me. I amanxiousto return to Strae Castle, where my sisters are worried out of their minds.”
“I will send word to your sisters…once we are married.”
Juliana clasped her hands—at least they were no longer tied—to keep them from trembling. She needed to find a weapon if her wits would not serve, but it would not do to show fear. She just hoped her voice didn’t shake. “I have not agreed to marry you, and I never will.”
He made a sneering sound. “Ye doona have to agree.”
She turned slightly so she could look at him. “That is ridiculous. You cannot just…just…stealsomeone and force a marriage.”
“Aye, I can.”
“That isillegal.”
“Mayhap in London. Ye are in the Highlands now. Clans have been stealing brides for centuries.”
She glared at him. “You still have to obey English law. Or have you not heard of the Act of Union? Scotland agreed to it in 1707.”
He snorted. “Ye will find Scots are nae afraid to defy the English Crown.”
“I do not care about that. You cannot force me to marry you.”
“Did ye nae hear me before?” Neal asked. “I can. Ye are nae spoken for, ye doona have a father who will demand your return—”
“Ian MacGregor will!”
Neal shrugged. “MacGregor is married to your sister. He canna claim ye, too.”
“The MacGregor clan has had its rights restored. My sister is now married to their laird. Do you want a clan war?”
He laughed again. “Ye need to study your history better. While we consider our lairds rulers, your English king does nae. He willna take kindly to MacGregor starting a war, especially so soon after granting the clan recognition.”
“My sister is a favorite of the king.” Actually, it had been their father whom the king had been patron to, but that was a detail better not mentioned just now. “King George personally granted my sister special dispensation for the deed to Strae Castle.” She lifted her chin. “His Majesty will not be pleased to hear of this abduction.”
Neal studied her for a moment. “By the time your English king finds out, we will be long wedded”—he smirked—“and bedded.”
A chill ran down her spine. The accursed man might well be right. By the time she sent word—ifshe could send word—to anyone, it would be far too late. Even English law would uphold a marriage that had been consummated. Women were considered chattel.
