The only person in the world who truly loved her like family was supposed to was her sister Abigail. And Emily was in the Highlands to spare her sister the same fate. She could face anything and anyone for such a cause.
She wasn't going to run again… unless she was sure of her destination and her chances of true escape were high. She was going to endure and do it with a smile on her face just to confuse them. She would show them she was no weakling, no matter how foolishly she had behaved thus far.
Cait rushed to her side and took both Emily's hands in hers. "Are you all right?"
Emily squeezed Cait's fingers. "I am fine. I do not know why I ran. It was foolish."
"Your emotions overcame you. I could see it happening, but could do nothing to help you. It was not surprising after the time in the boat. You were terrified; I could smell your fear. You masked it well, but I was right beside you," Cait said with obvious admiration. "I did not know huma… I mean the English had that skill."
Emily shook her head. "Sometimes you say the strangest things. Do you know that? Just because I am English does not mean I am a weakling."
Cait laughed. "I'd say, after the way you handled that soldier who came after you. It is obvious to everyone here you are no weakling."
"I did not handle Lachlan as efficiently."
"Naturally not. He is laird. He would not be so if he was not stronger than all the others," Cait replied consolingly.
Was that why his kisses had turned her inside out? If it were true, then perhaps Talorc's would be just as powerful, but somehow she could not believe that would be the case.
Chapter 7
She was not surprised when Lachlan ordered one of the other soldiers to take her up on his horse for the ride to the castle. After all, now that he had answers to his odious questions, he had no need to touch her. She refused to be bothered by that.
The warrior named Angus put his hand out to her and she smiled at him as she took it for a lift up. He looked confused by her smiling all right and stopped in the act of puffing her onto his horse with a stupefied expression on his face.
She simply waited, wondering how simpleminded were these soldiers that her poor plan was having such success so quickly.
"Angus!"
Lachlan's command snapped the soldier from his reverie and he swung Emily into his lap.
She sat primly forward, but turned to smile up at him once more. "Thank you kindly for allowing me to ride with you."
"He allows nothing. I have ordered it," Lachlan growled.
Emily ignored him, deciding then and there that her campaign to confuse the soldiers with her cheerful countenance would not stretch to their leader. She never wanted to speak to him again.
She faced forward without another word. The trip up the cliff was not as harrowing as the water crossing, but she did give thanks to God more than once that she had no fear of heights. The trail zigzagging up the side of the cliff was barely wide enough for the large war horses, its right side a rock face and the left a sheer drop back down.
Unless there was another path to reach the cliff-top castle, she could not imagine a force of any strength could ever surprise the Balmorals with their arrival, or even make it as far as the castle unless the Balmorals wanted them to.
Cait had been right. There was no way her brother would be able to rescue them once they were inside the castle walls.
When they reached the top of the cliff, they could see the drawbridge was down and so they rode right into the lower bailey before they stopped and dismounted. Men and women wearing the Balmoral plaid looked with open curiosity upon Emily and Cait. They didn't scowl like the Sinclairs had even though Emily knew her dress had to give away her Englishness.
One older woman with a kind face and eyes very like Angus's even came forward. "Who is that you have with you, son?"
"The Balmoral's captive. She's promised to the Sinclair."
"So, we've taken two in retaliation for Susannah, then?" The woman's face creased in a satisfied smile.
"Aye, we have."
Drustan laid a possessive hand on Cait's protruding belly. "Nay, we have taken three."
Cait's eyes filled with tears and Emily wanted to smack him.
But keeping with her intent to confuse them, she smiled instead. "I still say it is a poor man who takes his revenge through women and a child."
She'd said the words sweetly, so Drustan's scowl didn't come for two heartbeats after she'd spoken. When it did, it was fierce enough to fell the monster werewolves Emily's faraway housekeeper had told her and Abigail so many stories about.
Cait, however, no longer looked ready to cry and that was all Emily wanted. She was shaking her head, her eyes questioning Emily's sanity.
Angus laughed though.
"You find the insult to your brother amusing?" the older woman censured.
"Our laird has said she is English and will therefore have to learn our ways to understand them. I'm inclined to agree."
His mother shook her head. "An insult is an insult, Angus… even to an Englishwoman."
"Enough of this foolish talk." Lachlan's harsh voice came from directly behind Emily. "The priest waits for us up at the keep."
And that was when she learned there was to be a wedding between Cait and Drustan. Immediately.
"But the marriage sacrament is to be spoken in the morning," Emily said, scandalized as she followed the soldiers to the keep. She was still intent on ignoring Lachlan, so she was haranguing Drustan instead. "And Cait cannot go to her wedding without the opportunity to prepare her person. This is too barbaric even for you Balmorals."
"Yon would prefer I took your friend to my bed tonight without making her my wife?" he asked in a lazy drawl that made her want to scream.
"I would prefer you waited until she has had sufficient time to prepare."
"And how long would that be, English?"
"It takes time to organize a wedding… days, weeks even."
"On the contrary, the wedding is already set." Lachlan's voice came from her left, but she refused to look at him.
"Drustan… please, you must reconsider."
"My laird has ordered the wedding take place now. It shall be done."
They had reached the keep and the small group swept into the great hall where a priest did indeed wait near the fireplace. He wore the proper vestments and his expression was kind, but the image of him sent Emily's heart pounding.
Cait did not look similarly affected. Her expression was stoic, but that was a far cry from serene and Emily wished there was something she could do to save her friend.
She was even willing to renege on her promise to herself never to speak to Lachlan again, if it would help. Spinning to face him, she grabbed his arm in urgent appeal. "Please, don't do this. Not tonight. Give her time to… to…"
"To what, English? Waiting will not change her fate."
"But she never even met Drustan before today."
"How many times had you met Talorc before your father sent you here?"
"That is not the same thing. This is not by order of the king. And Talorc did not force the marriage upon my arrival."
"He would if he had wanted to bed you."
Emily reeled back from the brutal crudity of the words, but she could not allow herself to become overset. She had to keep fighting for Cait's welfare. "Nevertheless—"
"Enough," he said, cutting her off. "If you do not cease this tirade, I will have you taken to the tower before the wedding takes place."
Emily's mouth snapped closed on another argument. She was Cait's only friend present. She had to stay. With that thought in mind, she went to stand by Cait's side.