Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Emma knew he had not spoken, yet she knew that was what he said. A thrill rushed through her, and he lightly snapped his teeth at her, like a playful wolf, before he turned back and bent low over Balfire’s neck. The horse began to gallop faster, and a helpless squeak escaped Emma’s lips.

She thought the Laird might have laughed, but all she could hear was the whistling of the wind, and all she could feel was the big, dark world turning around them.

Then, they began to slow down, and the Laird heaved a long breath. At that, Emma slowly opened her eyes and straightened, her grip on him loosening ever so slightly.

They had come to a gorgeous cove, with a path winding down to it, and ahead, a ship dominated the horizon. Emma gasped, and her entire body tensed up.

No. She could’ve laughed at the irony, too, as they drew close.

Men came rushing forward, greeting their Laird and shooting her curious looks.

I was meant to get on a ship today, she mused as the wind played with her hair, and she met Ronson’s green gaze. Just not yours.

As much as Emma wanted to run, when Laird Ronson held out his hand to steer her toward the long gangplank that led to the deck, she took it. A flash of surprise crossed his face, but he merely squeezed her hand and then led her onboard. Behind them, Balfire walked up obediently, following the Laird like a great dog.

On board, Emma’s head swam, and the Laird left her after giving her a meaningful look and glancing around at his men.

There is nowhere for ye to run. Dinnae even think about it.

Emma looked out at the sea and felt a strong hand wrap around her throat.

Dive in, and I shall leap in after ye.

Then, he strode across the deck. His men seemed to know what he wanted and what to do without him even speaking.

Did he ever speak?

Emma wondered about that as she watched the sun sink below the horizon, the great ship sliding out into the dark waves and the wind carrying them north, instead of south.

And if she bowed her head, shedding a few tears, no one could see.

Emma did not see much of the Laird on the ship, save in passing. She’d been led to a small, clean stateroom and left there. Food had been brought to her, and then, when she’d tried to get back out, she’d discovered that her door had been locked.

Lying down, heart pounding, she stared at the door for a long time and then finally fell asleep.

She slept in late the next day, but when she tried the door again, it was unlocked. Still, she did not leave her room until midday, and then all she did was pace the deck. Everyone left her alone, so she whiled away the hours watching the horizon.

Finally, as night came, they sailed up a wide river and into a loch. At first, it seemed to be all wilderness, but then lights had leaped forth. Emma, standing on the deck, had gasped at the sight of the biggest castle she had ever seen, rising like a mountain in the distance.

They did not put to port there, but further down, in a large town, and that was when Laird Ronson found her again. Without a word, he took her arm and led her down the gangplank, where Balfire waited. After he lifted her, she found her familiar place on the horse, and then the Laird climbed up in front of her.

Then, they were off like a shot through the town. Folk turned to watch, but soon, the Laird led them into the wild. She had no idea if they were going to the castle or somewhere else, but soon, they were trotting down a grassy avenue, with trees rising on either side, reminding her of a Roman arcade.

The moon had risen and cast the scene in a dreamy light that made it seem like if Emma reached out, the trees would vanish at her touch. Hills rose and fell beyond, and a vivid scent of salt hit her.

“Is this where you live?” she wondered out loud. “So close to the sea? I did not know Lairds lived anywhere save the mountains.”

He did not answer, so she continued, almost a bit delirious.

“When I was small, I wanted to live by the sea, but now I know that was such a foolish dream…” She laughed as the Laird stirred. “Sorry, I supposed I’m rambling now. Does my chatter bother you? People often tire of it, so it shall not hurt my feelings if you… Oh.”

He’d given her an emphatic shake of his head and glanced at her over his shoulder again, this time with clear amusement.

“Yes, I can see that you like to laugh at me, My Laird,” Emma said primly, even though a thrill went through her at speaking so to a man.

Her father would have scolded her roundly—and her mother would never…

“Are these your lands? Your home? Is that why you were not worried about the dark? Or did you know the moon was to rise?”

The Laird nodded, and Emma sighed, wishing that he’d speak. He had to speak occasionally if his men knew what to do and Morgana knew his name.

Emma frowned. Wait, if he was a Highland Laird, why were they here? He had not responded to her question about the mountains.

The Laird glanced back at her, and she realized that her body had gone rigid.

Trying to smile, Emma asked in what she hoped was a calm voice, “Are you not a Highlander?”

His eyebrow rose, and he shook his head before looking ahead.

Emma tried not to gasp or panic.

Wait, he’s not? But…

She knew nothing of Scotland beyond the most simple and foolish of facts. None that would help her here.

“Have you brought me to these woods to kill me?” Emma blurted out. “Have you kidnapped me and are just prolonging my murder? Is this revenge for the snare and tying you up? I?—”

The horse jerked to a halt, and this time, the Laird turned half his body and caught Emma by the chin. She gasped, but he forced her to meet his gaze and glared at her, a mix of annoyance and amusement in his eyes.

D’ye truly think I’d waste me time with such a farce, woman? Emma read in that gaze. Dinnae be so daft.

With that, he squeezed her chin for good measure and, as he had yesterday, playfully snapped his teeth at her, before turning back around and clucking to Balfire. Meanwhile, all Emma could feel was the imprint of those strong fingers on her face. She dipped her head, a thrill of nerves bouncing in her chest.

They’d been so close. Close enough to?—

She shook her head. No, what was she thinking? Whatever this was, it wasn’t that. He was just handsome. And not a Highlander, but a Laird…

And that meant?—

“Oh my—heaven and grace on Earth,” Emma gasped, tipping her head back as they emerged from the woods on the edge of a hill that looked down on a small valley.

Gentle hills rose and fell, lights filling the air, and a town sprawled at one end. But her gaze flicked to the enormous castle. From the loch, it had seemed enormous.

Now, approaching it, Emma thought it seemed to soar in the sky. It was thrice the size of her family’s estates, and those were rumored to be almost as big as the Queen’s palaces.

It was so large that its light reflected in the distant curve of the bay, the ocean splashing at their doorstep. A shiver ran down Emma’s spine.

“What is this place?” she wondered out loud.