Chapter 2

Somewhere along the Anglo-Scottish border…

Bran stood and stared at August Raymond in disbelief. "Ye want me to do what?"

Since the day of his capture, when he had traded his own life for that of Katarina's sisters and his daughter Mahala, August had demanded many unscrupulous things of him. Bran had been used as a mercenary against his will. If he did not do exactly what August commanded, he would threaten to harm Mahala. However, if Bran did what he was commanded to do, he was allowed to spend time with her under guard.

No one back home knew of his daughter's existence. He had not wished to bring shame to his family by burdening them with his sins, although now, all that remained of his family was Andrew. August's sister Kezia had also died, leaving Bran's daughter in the care of August and his Romani band. No one had bothered to notify Bran of Kezia's death or, after that, whether his daughter had been safely cared for since or not. Bran wished every day that he could simply take his daughter and run back to Orkney. Since his capture, he had been waiting for the right moment, when she would be left alone and unguarded, but that moment had never come.

"I traded myself tae ye for a woman's safety. Now, ye wish for me to take yet another lass against her will? I will nae do it."

"You came for your daughter. Do not pretend otherwise. Mahala is the only reason you are here. Now, do as I say, or you will never see your daughter again."

"August Raymond, I will kill ye someday."

"You will try, but you will not succeed."

Bran took a step forward, his hand on the hilt of his blade. Within the blink of an eye, Raymond's men had him surrounded. "Someday," he promised, removing his hand.

"I will be ready," August promised, before turning and walking away.

* * *

Bran stood in the trees outside of the seer's cottage, waiting for the woman he was to capture. It turned his stomach to think of what he was about to do, but he had no choice. He had to protect his daughter at all costs. He was all she had left in the world. The only person remaining who cared enough about her to keep her safe. He wished now that he had told Andrew about her. At least then, if he died, there would have been someone to come find her and take her away from August Raymond.

If she and I get through this alive, I am takin' her home. Family shame be damned. There is nae family left to be ashamed o' me or me sins.

His need to preserve his family honor by not telling them of his affair seemed so very foolish now. If he had it to do over again, he would have told them all everything from the very beginning. He also would have taken August's sister away from him and married her against her brother's wishes. She had told him to go, and then she had died, leaving their daughter alone and unprotected in the hands of a monster.

The sound of footsteps drew him out of his thoughts and back to the present moment. A lad of undeterminable age appeared and knocked on the seer's door. Perhaps the lass has decided nae to come after all. A brief moment of hope filled his heart. He did not wish to perform the task he had been commanded to. Bran felt like a bird of prey sitting there waiting. He sent a prayer heavenward that God would see fit to keep the girl away from the trap August Raymond had lain for her. He had no notion of who the lass might be, but as the father of a daughter he found himself looking at women in a completely different light. All women were someone's daughters.

The seer opened the door and allowed the lad to enter. Bran settled back in against a tree and continued to wait. People came to the seer to have their ailments healed. Perhaps the lad was simply seeking a cure. If so, then he would not be there long. Bran did not need witnesses when he abducted the unsuspecting girl. August had been quite clear that Bran was not to speak to the lass but was simply to deliver her to him in the same state that he found her. The only way he had of identifying the girl was a small crescent-moon-shaped birthmark somewhere on her body. Bran had informed the seer of this and that she was to confirm identity by whatever means she deemed necessary.

The poor lass. She does nae ken what awaits her.He sent another prayer for God to protect the poor girl, whomever she might be. At least August has moved on from his obsession with Idalia. Thoughts of home caused a twinge of pain in his chest. Shaking his head to clear it, he turned his attention back to the seer's cottage. The only girl he could afford to think about now was his daughter. Whoever the lass was, she would have to fend for herself and hope that she too had a father who cared enough to come after her and protect her. May he kill August Raymond in the doing o' it.

Moments later, the seer opened her door and motioned for Bran to come forward. Hе stepped out of the trees and walked over to stand in front of her. "The lass is prepared for ye."

"Lass?" Bran asked, looking past the woman to the person lying on the floor. "I saw a lad enter, nae a lass."

"She disguised herself so that she might travel alone."

Bran raised his brows in surprise. "She bears the mark?"

"Aye. She does." The seer nodded, stepping back into the cottage and motioning for him to take the girl. "Take the lass and go. Tell yer master that my debt is now paid. I owe him nae longer."

Bran nodded. "I will inform him o' yer words."

Stepping forward, Bran scooped up the girl into his arms and carried her from the cottage. To cover his tracks, Bran had arranged for a boat to take them to the location that August had dictated. He did not need the girl's family catching up with him on the road and slaughtering him in his sleep. He was not about to take the blame for August Raymond's actions. In many ways, Bran was just as much a victim as the girl he carried. Placing her on the back of his horse, Bran climbed up behind her. He turned the horse in the direction of the coast and left the seer's cottage behind at a brisk clip.

Bran rode carefully to avoid being seen. It would not be good to have someone see him with a bag-covered hostage in his lap. August had been very specific about the bag being placed over the girl's head. He had been equally clear that Bran was not supposed to remove the bag until he arrived in front of August himself. Bran had to admit he was tempted to look regardless of his orders. It was not as if August would ever know one way or the other. However, as he did not want to take the risk of August having sent spies to watch him, Bran left the bag in place. When they arrived at the coast, Bran carried the girl, still dressed in lad's clothes onto the boat he had hired and stowed her away midship before they set sail.

* * *

Idalia awoke as the world swayed around her, but she could see nothing as her head was covered. She attempted to feel about her with her hands, but found that they, as well as her feet, were tied. She was lying on a hard wooden surface that seemed to slope upwards against her back. A man shouted orders somewhere behind her as the sound of wood slapping water filled the air, and a splash of water slid over her hands. She attempted to sit up, but the world continued to sway around her, and she realized she must be in a boat. How did I get here? The seer... She remembered the seer's face right before she had lost consciousness. The seer did this to me.

"Help!" she called out, hoping that someone other than her captor would hear her. "Seer, you will regret the day we ever met!"

"Be still," a deep masculine voice commanded from above her. A voice she could never mistake. But this time, he didn't come to her rescue.

Idalia froze. "You?" she breathed in question, her mind in disarray. "Take this cloth off of my head or I will scream." The sound of footsteps on wood drew closer to her, and then the bag was removed from her head. Light filtered through the canvas overhead and she could make out the familiar features of the man who had saved her from August Raymond when she had been held hostage by the former Laird Morgan. "It is you. I knew I recognized your voice."

* * *

Bran was unable to stop the surprise from showing on his face when he realized that she had, in fact, remembered and recognized him. His face transformed from surprise to anger, and then quickly slipped into a mask of indifference in a bid to hide the truth from her. He shook his head. "That cannae be as we have never met 'afore this day, and I never saved ye in the Morgan lands."

His jaw ticked as he realized his error. She had not mentioned the Morgan lands and he hoped she would not catch onto him. Idalia squinted at him, and he believed he was about to be called out on his mistake, but then she frowned instead.

"You saved me from August Raymond. Why do you pretend that you do not know me?"

Yes, he had indeed done that, and, for the longest time, Bran had wondered what had happened to her. He had dreamed of her after he had saved her from August Raymond's grasp. She had plagued his thoughts and he had always hoped she had managed to escape and would remain far out of his reach. The irony was not lost on him that he was currently taking her back to the man he had saved her from. Bran was bitter and angry.

In all the time he had spent with August, carrying out his tasks, he had been made to do so many terrible things that it tore at him all the time, but nothing was worse than knowing he was helping in the capture of Katarina's sister.

The last shred of hope for redemption had just flown out of the window. He was a terrible person and he doubted there was anything that he could ever do to make up for it.

"Show me yer birthmark, lass," he said to her suddenly, completely ignoring her question.

"What?!" she whispered in shock, almost choking on her words. "What birthmark? I know not what you are talking about."

"Dinnae feign stupidity. I ken that ye have a birthmark. If ye dinnae show me willingly, unfortunately, I will be forced to look for it meself," he growled angrily.

"You wouldn't dare!" her eyes rounded in shock as she stared him down. Bran took a step toward her threateningly, waiting for her to break and show him of her own free will. He had never been violent or forceful with a woman and he did not want to add that to his list of sins if he did not have to. But he would be a fool to believe the seer's words and not check it for himself, as much as he didn't want to.

"Well?" he asked after another threatening step, but she raised her chin at him in defiance. Bran's eyes steeled over, and he marched towards her, defeated. I hope the Gods will forgive me. He grabbed hold of her legs and pulled them close to stop her from moving. His eyes roamed over every visible part of her body, but he saw no mark there.

Bran heaved a heavy sigh and took one of her legs in his hands. "Well, I guess I will have tae pull these up, lass, dinnae fret, I'll but have a quick look. And if ye tell me where exactly I should be looking, we can finish with this quicker." He reached for the bottom and started to pull it up when she screeched and began to wiggle in his grip.

"Would ye just hold still and let me—" Her free leg shot out, and she kicked him in the chin before he could finish his sentence. Bran let go of her other leg and stared at her in shock, noting that she mirrored his expression. He growled and made to grab her legs again, but she screamed and kicked out at him, wiggling her legs around to stop him from getting hold of them again.

"No!" Idalia's knee connected with Bran's thighs when he lurched forward to lift her shirt. She winced when he groaned in pain and collapsed beside her, her eyes filling with fear of what he would do to her when he got back on his feet.

"I will never show you my birthmark!" she cried out when he began to approach her once again. Bran stopped and stared at her, chest heaving, with an angry look on his face.

"Ye must nae realize it yet, but ye have nae choice in the matter. I must find it; I have nae choice."

"Wait!" she yelled as he advanced towards her once again. Bran's brows raised as he waited for her to speak, hoping she had finally seen the wisdom in showing it to him herself instead of him forcefully looking. "I'll tell you where it is, but under one condition."

Bran was wary. He could not help but wonder what it was she could want. Although they had been speaking for only a short time, he knew she was smart and would want something he might not want to offer. Still, he nodded. Having her show him the mark willingly was better than the alternative.

"I'll tell you where it is only if you tell me who you're taking me to."

Bran studied her. Despite her actions, he could see the fear in her eyes as she waited for him to answer. He wished he did not have to tell her, yet he sighed and nodded slowly. She was going to find out sooner or later, so he might as well tell her.

"It is on my stomach, just below my navel." Despite how he was feeling, Bran was amused when her face turned red as she blushed all over. She was so full of contradictions.

"Unfortunately, I will need to see it for myself," he said, getting on his knees gently. His fingers grazed her skin as he lifted up the shirt she wore as a disguise and pulled the trousers a little lower on her waist. He stared at the mark painting her skin, itching to touch it, but he stopped his hands. August had been right after all. It did look like a red crescent moon.

Bran felt stirrings in his gut as he looked at her. He felt a strong surge of attraction for her in that moment. He looked up at her and saw the look of embarrassment on her face. Her eyes closed when she saw him regarding her. She was beyond embarrassed; she was mortified, and she had good reason to be so. Bran let go of her shirt and let it fall over her exposed skin before sitting opposite her. He looked up when Idalia cleared her throat, and he saw that she was looking at him.

"Now you have to answer me. Who is behind all of this?" Bran closed his eyes. He had known she would not let it go, and he had prepared himself for it, but still, he could not quell the shame that filled him at the thought of telling her whom he worked for.

"August Raymond," he had simply. His hand clenched into fists when she gasped and let out a whimper filled with fear and rage. He looked up at her and saw the look of hopelessness in her eyes. Suddenly, every hope he had of ever redeeming himself was lost to him.