“Loftus, come.”
Finally, thank God! The dog looked at her, his expression clearly one of annoyance. He did not want to be called away, but he was, at his heart, a dog who wanted to please. “Loftus, come!” she said again.
Moving sideways, never taking his eyes off the man with the bow and arrow, Loftus started toward her.
“Good job, Sassenach,” the man said as Loftus whined then sat at her side. Emmeline grabbed the fur at the scruff of his neck to keep him still, though if he really wanted to attack, she wouldn’t have been able to hold him back. She might outweigh him, but he was all muscle and strength.
“You may release my friend now,” she said.
“After ye hand over yer purse and any baubles.” The man’s eyes, all that were visible as he wore a scarf around the lower part of his face and a hat over his brow, slid up and down her. Clearly, he could see she wore no baubles.
“I’ve already had my purse stolen,” she told him, using her best authoritative tone. “I have nothing of value, and neither does my friend. Let her go.”
“Ye might have nothing of value, but she’s a bonny wee thing. I think we’ll take her with us. Ye want her back? We’ll make a trade for her. Tell yer men to meet us at the old crofter’s cottage, a mile to the east at sunset.” He began to drag Ines backward, and Ines’s eyes widened. She began to struggle, but the man nicked her with his dagger, and she went still again.
“You should not have done that,” Emmeline said. “Her man will kill you for touching her. He will tear you limb from limb for drawing her blood.” She didn’t know where the words came from, but she knew they were true. Ines was the sort of woman men would kill for. Meanwhile, she couldn’t even get herself abducted.
“If he dinnae want more blood drawn, he’d better bring a fat purse.” The man moved back further and several other men joined him. Just how many had been hiding in these woods? One of them took Ines by the arm, and she gave Emmeline one last pleading look before she was pulled away. Beside Emmeline, Loftus whined.
As soon as the men were gone, Emmeline looked at the dog. “Go get Murray,” she said, and Loftus took off in the direction she and Ines had come from.
DUNCAN
“I think it’s best if we hire horses and travel that way from now on,” Stratford said as he rummaged about in a sack and assessed their provisions. He was in charge of rationing their food, which meant they always had something to eat and Duncan was always hungry.
“And where will we find the coin for that?”
“How much do you have?” Stratford asked.
“Not enough for four horses.”
Stratford seemed to consider. “What about two horses?”
Duncan shook his head. “I have enough tae buy us food and maybe a night or two in an inn, but I cannae hire horses. Unless we want tae do as we did in the army.” He raised his brows at Stratford who shot him a disapproving look. In the army they had stolen the horses they needed. Of course, those were the enemies’ horses, which was a bit different from stealing from your own countrymen.
Duncan held up his hands. “Yer right. Nae thieving, but what if we—” Duncan looked up when Loftus bounded into the clearing and barked. That was an odd thing as the dog did not bark often, and he was always at Miss Wellesley’s side.
Stratford rose and Loftus ran up to him and barked. “Where’s Emmeline?” Stratford asked, as though the dog could actually answer.
The dog barked twice and then ran back toward the woods then back to the clearing and then dove into the woods again. “Follow him!” Stratford called. Duncan was already on his feet. Stratford would follow him, but he was no good at navigating woods or unfamiliar places. Duncan followed the sound of the dog through the trees until he heard a feminine voice greet the dog. A moment later, Miss Wellesley came through the foliage, her expression anxious. “Mr. Murray!”
Duncan assessed her quickly, noted she was not injured. He looked behind her for Ines, but Ines did not appear. “Where is Ines?” he asked.
Her face tightened. “That’s why I sent Loftus to you. She’s been taken.”
“Taken?” Duncan yelled. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Of all the things he thought the woman would say, that was not one of them. “Who the hell took her?”
“I don’t know.” Miss Wellesley was all but crying now. He hadn’t thought she could cry. She always seemed so strong and confident. The fact that she was crying alarmed him and sent steel shooting through his spine. She took a ragged breath. “There were men in the woods. They had a knife and a bow and arrow.”
Duncan reached her in two strides and grabbed her by the shoulders. He could not think now. The feeling he liked to think of as that lunatic part of himself took over. It scrambled his thoughts and demanded action. “What men? Where did they go? Why did ye let them take her?”
“Unhand her, Duncan,” Stratford said.
Duncan hadn’t realized he was holding on to Miss Wellesley and shaking her. He released her, and she melted into a heap on the ground, covering her face with both hands. The dog tried to lick her, but Stratford brushed the dog away when he knelt beside her. “Tell me what happened.”
Duncan wanted to scream, a primal scream that would scatter birds and shake the boughs of the trees. He wanted to rage against Stratford’s calm. His body quivered like a nocked arrow on the precipice of release. He only needed to be aimed in the right direction.
Ines. Taken.
Duncan clenched his fists, waiting to be released.
“He had a knife,” Miss Wellesley said then blubbered on about something else that didn’t quite make sense. Duncan growled low in his throat, his entire body tense and quaking.
Stratford, calm as ever, raised her chin until her gaze met his. “Take a deep breath now. No, don’t try to speak. Just breathe.” He glanced at Duncan. “Some water, I think. Wine, if we have it.”
Christ and all the saints! Duncan wanted to shake the information out of her. He wanted answers. Now. But the army had taught him some control, and he knew enough about Stratford’s methods to trust the man. He stomped back to the clearing, grabbed a bottle they had been using for water, and carried it back to Stratford and Miss Wellesley. She had stopped crying by the time he handed it to her, which was a good sign.
“Drink,” Stratford told her. She did. Her small sips seemed designed to appease him rather than slake her thirst. “Better?” Stratford asked.
She nodded.
Duncan folded his arms over his chest and tried not to scowl at her, tried not to think about the precious time being lost while Stratford coaxed and soothed.
Ines. Taken.
“Tell us what happened,” Stratford said. “From the beginning.”
“There’s a brook,” she said, pointing toward the sound of running water. “We, Ines and I, went to have a sip of water and wash our faces. Then Loftus jumped in and seemed to spot something. He ran away from us, and we thought it was a rabbit, but it wasn’t.” Her voice hitched, and Stratford offered her the water again.
Christ but Duncan wanted the rest of the story already.
“We called him back, and he didn’t come. We went to see what he had found, and I saw a man with a bow and arrow pointed at Loftus. And then another man grabbed Ines and held a knife to her throat.”