Page 16 of Claimed By a Savage Scot
With that business quickly concluded, he put the second stage of his plan into action. “I need a mount fer the lass as well. Have ye got anythin’ suitable fer sale or hire? I’ll pay ye good money fer a mount that can travel fast.”
The man considered, giving Catriona a polite nod, which she returned. “Aye, I’ve a bonny gray mare that would dae just fine fer the lady. “I’ll have the lad bring her out fer ye tae look at.”
Before he could move, Malcolm felt a hard tug on his sleeve. When he looked down, he saw Catriona was as white as milk, and her eyes were wide with fear.
“Malcolm, look!” she croaked as if her mouth had gone dry. He followed her eyeline and immediately saw the reason for her panic. Two armed soldiers in Sinclair colors were mounted on horseback mere yards away.
His blood went cold as he watched them moving slowly through the square, scanning the crowd, stopping people as they went. They spoke loudly, asking if anyone had seen a young woman with long auburn hair and green eyes. Catriona’s hair was uncovered, and he knew it would only take one person to glance her way and make the connection for all to be lost.
Catriona could obviously hear the riders as well because her fingers were digging into his arm. He could feel her whole body vibrating with terror and feared she might be about to bolt. If she did, all hell would break loose, and he was not sure he would be able to protect her if more soldiers turned up.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Stay calm, and we’ll be fine. Make nay sudden moves that might attract attention. Dinnae make a show of it, but pull up yer hood tae cover yer hair.”
She obeyed with shaking hands, pulling the hood close about her face, concealing all but a few stray wisps of hair. Like an affectionate husband might do for his wife, he casually tucked them in for her.
Calm as he was on the surface, inside his heart was hammering. And his mind was spinning as he tried to think what to do. They needed cover, somewhere to get out of sight of the soldiers until they could leave. With a feeling of increasing dread, he noticed the saddler observing the riders and knew he would have to be stone deaf not to hear the description of the woman they were seeking. He had seconds before the man put two and two together and alerted the soldiers to Catriona’s presence.
But that did not happen. Instead, the saddler remained silent and looked questioningly at Malcolm, a look that clearly said he was neither deaf nor stupid. Malcolm returned him a warning look that told him to keep his mouth shut or face the consequences.
The man clearly understood, and to Malcolm’s relief, nodded calmly. “If ye dinnae mind me sayin’, Sir, the lady looks a wee bit peely-wally. Perhaps ye’d best bring her inside for a wee while so she can sit down and have a drink of water. I’ll have yer horse brought in, and ye can have a look at the gray inside while she rests.”
Malcolm had never heard sweeter words, but could he trust them? Seeing he had little choice but to agree, he shot the saddler a sharp nod, making a mental note to reward him if his discretion lasted. If the offer of help was a prelude to betrayal, he would skewer the fellow to his own barn door in retribution, if he had the time.
“I thank ye fer yer kind concern,” he replied as though he were discussing the weather. “Aye, me wife’s nae been feelin’ too well. We’ve had a long journey. I’m sure she’d appreciate a rest.”
“Follow me,” the saddler murmured, unhurriedly leading them into the barn.
Once inside, the saddler drew them out of the way of the open doors, before going off to see about Malcolm’s business.
“That was too close for comfort,” Malcolm whispered to Catriona, who nodded absently. She had her eyes glued to a crack in the plank wall, obviously keeping tabs on Sinclair’s men outside.
“We cannae afford tae stay here any longer. Wait fer me here while I sort out fresh horses with the owner. We’ll be leavin’ as soon as ’tis safe.”
She neither spoke nor moved as he crossed the floor to meet the saddler. Eventually, gold changed hands, more than the quoted price. The extra coins went into the saddler’s pocket as a reward for his help, but most of all, for his silence.
“I’ll have the horses prepared and let ye ken when ’tis safe tae leave,” the saddler said and ambled off to see about it
A short while later, he returned with a lad leading the gray mare and a bigger black colt with a white blaze on his nose, both ready to ride. Malcolm had made sure to have his saddle transferredfrom Warrior to the colt. It was made to measure for his size and, therefore, supremely comfortable.
Still wary, before leading out the horses, he checked outside himself to make sure the soldiers were gone from the street. Thankfully, they had disappeared, but he knew they could be around the next corner.
He went back inside to collect Catriona, who was worryingly quiet. He put his arm around her and guided her through the doors. She seemed all right at first, but as soon as she stepped onto the street, she stiffened and clung to him, letting out a small moan.
Seeing the terror Sinclair had instilled in the spirited young woman made Malcolm’s blood boil and roused his protective instincts.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Without further ado, he lifted her onto the gray mare and settled her in the saddle. He fixed her feet in the stirrups and put the reins in her trembling hands. Then he swung himself up onto the colt.
“All right, let’s go,” he said, but she did not move. He glanced over at her. She appeared almost frozen, the reins hanging limply in her hands. He reached over and took hold of them as well as his own.
He clicked his tongue and pressed his knees into the colt’s powerful flanks. The horse moved smoothly ahead at a slow walk. Malcolm led Catriona and her horse beside him, keeping her close to his side as he walked them steadily down the side of the street, past the bustling market-day crowd.
As they rode, his eyes constantly scanned the way ahead, alert for the enemy to reappear. But by some miracle, they reached the edge of the village and started along the moorland track without a glimpse of Sinclair tartan. If they rode as the crow fliesand did not run into any trouble, they would be at his keep in a couple of hours.
Then she would be safe and he would be able to think clearly and decide his next move.
The further away they got from Craigmoor, the more Catriona seemed to come back to life. He was almost surprised when she suddenly spoke after a long silence.
