Chapter 5

5

" A m I lookin' at ye enough?" Erin kept her eyes fixed on Magnus, but was it really obedience that had her fixed on his features? There had to be more to the man than she had seen. This kindness and attention had to be an act, but when he showed his cruel nature as Lord Cramshire had, she would be ready. She would not be kept captive by such a man again. Erin's fingers curled into fists at her sides as she sat stiffly in the jolting carriage, the rough wool of her skirt scratching against her skin. The heavy, brooding presence of Magnus Black, the beast of a man to whom she was betrothed, loomed outside, leading their small procession through the rugged Scottish highlands. His very silhouette against the grey sky was like a dark omen, his broad shoulders casting shadows that danced eerily with each flash of lightning on the horizon.

"Ye seem awfully quiet, lass," Hayden's voice cut through her brooding thoughts, a stark contrast to the storm brewing outside.

Erin forced her gaze from the window and turned it upon Magnus' younger brother. Hayden's charming smile disarmed her for a moment, and she allowed herself a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"I'm fine, just weary of travel," she lied smoothly, not wanting to reveal the turmoil within. Her mind, however, was far from idle. In her mind, her memories of Lord Cramshire were replaced with the face of Magnus. But her memories were not true, struggling to give Magnus' voice to the harsh words she remembered. She was not a child this time, there would be no backing down and cowering with fear. Now she was strong enough to stand up to such a man, and capable of escape.

"Understandable," Hayden nodded, leaning back casually against the leather seat. "But soon ye'll be callin' McCormack Castle yer home. Surely, that's somethin' to look forward to?"

"Indeed," Erin murmured, biting back the bitterness in her tone. She didn't dare glance back at Magnus. She knew he was perceptive—too perceptive. Every time she tried to mask her disdain, she felt his penetrating gaze stripping her defenses bare as if he could see straight through to her rebellious heart.

"Ye daenae fancy me brother much, do ye?" Hayden observed, his voice low enough so only she could hear.

"Yer brother is...complex," she replied diplomatically, though her heart raced at the thought of being so transparent.

"Complex," Hayden chuckled, shaking his head. "That's one way to put it."

The carriage hit a rut in the road, jostling them both. Erin's hands flew to the sides to steady herself.

"Easy there," he said with a wink, his hand meeting hers where it gripped the carriage frame.

"Thank ye," she said curtly, snatching her hand away.

"Ye ken, Magnus isnae all bad," Hayden continued, seemingly unfazed by her coldness. "He might seem like a brute, but he's fiercely loyal to those he cares about. Give him time and he'll care for ye, too. This weddin' is as much a surprise to him as it is to ye."

"Perhaps," Erin conceded, though she couldn't imagine such warmth beneath his icy exterior. But as they conversed, her strategic mind plotted. She couldn't run from this arrangement without bringing Magnus' wrath down on her family, and she would not wish to cause them any suffering. But if she married Magnus, it would tie her fate to his and free her family from any responsibility should she decide to flee. Then, she could run away, and Magnus would not blame her family. As long as he had the alliance, Erin doubted he would even care to look for her.

"I mean, it's quite a surprise to me, too. I never imagined me brother taking a wife." Hayden's aimless chatter filled her ears as her mind plotted on darker thoughts. The road home was straight enough; if she didn't dally with her plan to leave after the wedding, she was certain she would recall the way home.

As they rode on, the distant thunder rolled closer, mirroring the storm of emotions within Erin. She would need to bide her time and play the obedient bride until she could find her moment to vanish like the mist over the moors.

"Looks like we're in for quite the storm," Hayden noted, glancing out at the increasingly turbulent sky.

"Seems fitting," Erin muttered, her eyes narrowing as she contemplated the gathering clouds. Her resolve hardened like the ancient stones of the highland castles, and she determined she would not let this marriage cage her spirit. But first, she had to survive the journey... and whatever trials lay ahead at Magnus Black's formidable hands.

Erin's fingers danced along the cool wooden edge of the carriage window, tracing the intricate carvings that were supposed to represent luxury but now felt more like the bars of a gilded cage. As the rolling hills of the Scottish highlands unfolded before her, a tumultuous blend of anger and shame churned within her. She needed to be strong and resistant to the Laird's overbearing presence, to his piercing gaze that seemed to unravel her very being. Yet, here she was, her heart betraying her with its insistent pounding as if echoing the hooves of the horses, drawing them ever closer to a destiny she neither desired nor could escape. But as Magnus filled her thoughts, she was beginning to question what she actually wanted.

"Maybe I shouldnae care," she whispered to herself, the words lost amidst the creaking of the carriage wheels and the distant call of a hawk. The thought of fleeing after the wedding gnawed at her—Magnus would then bear the burden of finding her, and her family would be spared from any further obligations. A plan began to form, delicate and dangerous like thistledown caught in the wind.

"Erin," Hayden said, snapping her attention back inside the carriage. "Ye'll see, life at McCormack isnae so dreich."

"Perhaps for some," she replied tersely, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Then, Magnus's commanding voice cut through the air. "Hayden!"

Erin watched Hayden stiffen, his usual charm momentarily slipping away like mist on the loch. Curiosity pricked at her like briars; what could unsettle such a man? The carriage rolled to an abrupt halt, and Erin seized upon the opportunity to stretch her legs and sate her curiosity.

"Stay put, lass!" Hayden called out, but Erin was already stepping onto the damp earth, her boots sinking into the soft ground. She rounded the carriage to behold the cause of their delay—a once sturdy bridge now lay in ruins, its broken remnants succumbing to the relentless push of the river below.

"Back to the carriage, lassie," Magnus ordered, the deep timbre of his voice sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

She turned to face him, meeting his troubled gaze with a defiant tilt of her chin. "And leave ye to deal with this alone? I think nae."

"Ye have no place here," he growled, the muscle in his jaw clenching.

"Yet here I am," she retorted, her own stubbornness flaring as brightly as the violent storm thundering across the distant sky.

"Enough! Get back in the carriage at once," Magnus ordered, and despite her fierce independent streak, Erin found herself obeying. The weight of his stare urged her back toward the safety of the carriage. Yet, as she retreated, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was far more lurking beneath Magnus's stoic fa?ade than she'd first assumed.

"Ye're scared of him, aren't ye?" Hayden observed quietly, holding the carriage door wide for her to climb inside.

"Scared?" Erin scoffed, though the flutter in her chest betrayed her bravado. "I'm only bidin' me time until I can slip away."

"Ye might find yerself surprised by what ye discover if ye stay," Hayden mused, his eyes glinting with something akin to mischief.

"Surprised or nae, it changes nothin'," Erin snapped, her gaze fixed on the landscape whirling past as they detoured the collapsed bridge. The thought of escape never left her mind, but so too did an inkling of curiosity about the enigmatic Laird McCormack. Curiosity was dangerous, especially when it clawed at the edges of a heart determined to remain closed.

"Just give him time. Ye havenae seen him at his best. I can assure ye, that it is a slight improvement on what ye see before ye." Hayden closed the door behind her and promptly strode away.

Erin had to admit his situation was unusual. Flynn was just as grouchy when accompanying her and her sisters across the countryside, but he had good reason to, with their previous capture on his mind. She was certain Magnus had no such concerns.

"We will go around. The next bridge will put no more than an hour or two on our journey." Magnus addressed the whole party with his words, but his eyes fixed on Erin. She felt obliged to nod her understanding, even if her still muscles protested at the idea of spending even one more hour confined within the carriage.

Their journey resumed, now heading towards the distant rain clouds. It was chilling to observe the party of riders travelling closer to the carriage now, and Erin couldn't help the chills that ran up her spine.

She had been taken from her parents at the tender age of nine, and the details of that day were lost, forgotten along with much of her childhood before that day. But she remembered endless days of captivity within the English castle. She had learnt the true meaning of cruelty from Lord Cramshire's harsh hand and bitter mind.

Each story Maeve and Ayda told her of her true home reminded her that she was a stranger in the castle that held her. McCormack Castle was beginning to feel like the same place. She began to wonder if she was truly strong enough.

The carriage bumped along the uneven path, each jolt a reminder of the perilous road ahead. As the skies darkened, Erin felt the simmering tension between her and the laird intensify, crackling in the space between them like the promise of a storm.

"Will we reach McCormack castle by nightfall?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"We shall be home by supper; have no fear." Magnus huffed, turning his horse away from the window of her carriage. He no longer gazed at her on their journey but kept his eyes cast on the horizon. Erin missed the weight of his stare, even if it was harsh and cold.

The detour led them through a dense thicket, an unfamiliar route fraught with uncertainty. Erin sat rigidly within the confines of the carriage, her mind a tumult of escape plans and the memory of Hayden's taut expression when Magnus had spoken. The air was thick with the scent of moist earth and pine, a stark reminder of the wildness surrounding them. It was unfamiliar and unsettling.

Suddenly, the serenity of their journey shattered like glass upon stone. Masked brigands emerged from the shadows of the trees, their intentions clear as steel glinted in the waning light. Magnus and his clansmen met the bandits head-on. Shouts rang out, and the clash of swords was terrifying. Erin's heart pounded in her chest, a frantic drum against the cage of her ribs. She ducked down, seeking refuge amongst the carriage's plush interior, her mind reeling back to the years of captivity that had once defined her existence.

Erin's breath caught in her throat as the brute of a man wrenched open the door, his leering face a grotesque mask of malice. She recoiled instinctively, her hand scrabbling for a weapon amidst the cushions of the carriage. But before she could react, he was upon her, grasping at her with filthy hands.

"Let go of me!" she cried out, struggling against his grip.

The man only laughed, his fetid breath hot against her face. "Well, well," he sneered, "what do we have here? A wee lassie all alone and ripe for plucking."

Erin's heart pounded in her chest as she frantically tried to break free. But it was no use—she was no match for the man's brute strength.

And as he tightened his hold on her, she knew that this was how it would end—captured and at the mercy of men who sought to use and abuse her. Fears of being dragged off flooded her mind. To live with Magnus was nothing compared to the fear of what fate awaited her in the clutches of these men. At least McCormack Castle was within a day's ride of O'Kane and her mother. But to spend her days lost to her family once again would be unbearable.

But then a fierce roar echoed through the Moore as Magnus Black charged forward like a warrior possessed. Her attacker stumbled backwards in surprise, loosening his grip on Erin just enough for her to wriggle free. She stumbled out of the carriage and into Magnus' arms, grateful for his protection and strength.

"Stay behind me," Magnus commanded his voice a guttural growl, before turning to meet the onslaught.

"Thank ye," she whispered to Magnus as they returned to the carriage. Her heart was full of gratitude and relief.

Erin trembling with fear, but also from the helpless fury that clawed at her insides. Magnus and his clansmen surrounded her, fighting back the strangers around them. She was no wilting flower, yet circumstance forced her into the role time and again. Her gaze followed Magnus as he moved like an avenging specter among the attackers, each swing of his blade an extension of his wrath.

When the ordeal ended, silence fell upon the clearing. Magnus's men attended to the wounded, their curses a low undertone to the pained groans of the injured.

"Are ye hurt?" Magnus questioned her, his hands upon her shoulders, turning her body as he searched for signs of harm.

"Nay." Erin's rejection of his touch didn't reach her lips, her gratitude towards him kept her quite.

"Are ye sure? Are Ye unharmed? Untouched?" Magnus insisted.

"I am quite well, thank ye." Erin affirmed. Her glance at her shoulder drew Magnus' attention to his touch and he instantly released her. "Are ye okay?"

Magnus was covered in the crimson evidence of a battle, he signaled for the party to move on down the river to a spot where the bank widened into a shallow alcove, which would have been a lovely spot for a picnic in very different circumstances.

Erin watched as Magnus stood at the water's edge, washing away the blood from his hands. His presence was as formidable as the mountains that cradled the horizon, and she hesitated only a moment before approaching him.

"Thank ye... for protecting me," she said, her voice betraying none of the chaos that roiled within.

He didn't turn to acknowledge her, his focus solely on the task at hand. "Hmph," was all he offered, a grunt that spoke volumes of his desire to remain detached.

"Great! Me husband-to-be hates talking to me," Erin muttered under her breath, her patience fraying like worn tartan.

The silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring. She yearned to pierce it with barbed words to provoke some reaction from the stoic laird. Yet she held her tongue, knowing it would bring more frustration.

Magnus stripped his top, stretching out his left shoulder as though it pained him. When he turned, Erin gasped at the sight of blood trickling from a small wound. He had turned his back on the fighting to save her from the man in the carriage, and the guilt from that fact encouraged her forward.

"Allow me to dress that for ye," she offered,

"Nay, lass. Keep yer distance." Magnus snapped. "Daenae need yer touching me. Hayden can do it."

Erin stepped back with her hands folded tightly across her chest. She was perfectly capable of dressing a man's wound, even if her thoughts urged her to touch more than a simple dressing would require. "And why is it inappropriate for a woman to tend to her would-be-husband? Or are we no longer to be married?"

It may have been inappropriate in the eyes of Lord Cramshire, but Magnus was no Englishman. He surely did not live by such rigid rules?

Perhaps he had decided a wife was more trouble than she was worth. "Send me home, and ye shall still have yer alliance with me brother."

"Hush, lass." Magnus waved her off, flinching as Hayden's unskilled hands dressed the wound to his shoulder. "I will nae be touching ye, so ye cannae be touching me. So I say again, Hayden can do it."

"Why?" she insisted, but Magnus offered her no further explanation, simply allowing Hayden closer.

"Ye think silence makes ye strong, Laird McCormack?" she taunted, standing just out of reach on the water's edge. "Or are ye simply too afraid to speak yer mind?"

His eyes flickered to her, steely and unamused. "I speak when there's something worth saying. Unlike some who prattle on like a brook in spring thaw."

Stung, Erin spun on her heel, her pride smarting more than she cared to admit. A misplaced step sent her stumbling. Without warning, she suddenly plunged into the ice-cold water of the river, screaming as her head submerged beneath the surface.