An Auctioned Bride (Highland Heartbeats #4)(20)

She also realized that if her captor—Hugh—hadn't found her when he did, she would be gone by now, no trace of her left to mark her short existence. The idea infuriated her. She resolved at that moment, slung roughly over her captor's—her husband's—shoulder, that she would do what she had to do to survive.

Because in the end, her ultimate goal was not just escape, but to learn who had betrayed her.

And why.





11





Once again Dalla sat with her back huddled against the wall of the cave while Hugh built yet another fire. Once more, he had told her to take her clothes off.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, she didn't have the strength to argue. And yet again, covered with that saddle blanket, she pulled off her muddy, wet clothes.

This time, he crouched near the fire he had rebuilt, two long sticks thrust through the legs of the breeches he had given her. He held them above the fire, trying to get them dry enough so she could put them back on. It didn't matter that they were muddy. Draped over a rock bulging from the side of the cave, her tattered gown and chemise were still drying.

She tried not to stare at his broad, naked chest nor his bulging biceps, nor the way the muscles in his back rippled every time he adjusted his position. He crouched on his haunches, his strong, long thighs limber and flexible as he shifted his balance from one leather-bound foot to another.

Occasionally, he glanced back at her. He caught her staring. She quickly dipped her head, hiding the warm flush in her cheeks.

No, she couldn't admire him. It didn't matter that he was handsome, or that he had saved her life. He had bought her! He had forced her into a farce of a marriage. She was his captive, no matter what that piece of parchment in his saddlebag said. He had bought her—owned her—as easily as he had bought the mare for her to ride.

But Dalla Jorstad was no man's possession, and she refused to—

“I don't intend to hurt you, Dalla,” he said, speaking softly. “But if you try to escape again, if you risk my life or the lives of my horses, things will not go easy on you. Do you understand?”

Those were the first words he had spoken since they'd left the bog and slowly made their way back to the cave.

She hadn't spoken either.

He stared at her and lifted an eyebrow.

She muttered her understanding but not liking it one bit. She'd been quiet and subdued, accepting, for the moment at least, her circumstances. She would wait and watch. And when the time was right—

“Don't even think about it,” he said calmly, turning back to the fire and flipping the sticks around, now drying the other side of the pants before he turned to her again. “Tomorrow evening, if we have no more delays or difficulties, we'll be at the hut where I have taken shelter. I had planned on staying for a few weeks, but under the circumstances, I might have to—”

“You mean you don't live up here?” Her curiosity had once again gotten the better of her.

One of her many not so good habits, this insatiable curiosity of hers. Her father barely tolerated it, and she'd often been teased her about it by others who told her that most women didn't bother with such trivial matters. They didn't understand. But Dalla had always been a curious individual, one constantly looking to find answers to her many questions about the world around her, about human behaviors, to understand everything.

He shook his head. “I came up here to...” He sighed and turned away. “I live further away, in the Grampian Mountains. Do you know where those are?”

She shook her head.

“Do you know any part of Scotland? The geography, the trees, how to live off the land? Do you know our animals, our people, or our clans?”

Again, she shook her head. She noted the look he gave her. Instantly, her temper rose, but she bit her lips against a sharp retort.

“Then you are a bigger fool than I thought. You will be safer with me, I can promise you that.”

He gestured with his chin toward the landscape outside of the cave. The darkness had lifted slightly, and she knew dawn was not far away.

“This is a dangerous land, Dalla. It's filled with wolves and wild boar and snakes. And those are just the animals. Many of the clans in the highlands have fought with one another for generations. There's plenty of edible plants out there, but just as many that are poisonous. How did you plan on surviving out on your own in a strange land?”

She said nothing for several moments. Of course, she had thought of that before she smashed him over the head with a stick.

She finally answered, her voice soft. “Have you ever been a captive? Sold like an animal and then told that you belong to someone else?”

He didn't answer, and she didn't expect him to.

She lifted her chin. “Of course, I tried to escape. Wouldn't you?”

He studied her for several moments and then slowly nodded. “Aye, I would,” he said firmly. “But not until I had studied the lay of the land, prepared for a journey with food, water, and a good sense of direction.”

Well then. She remained silent.

“You can accept your fate, or you can continue to fight against it. It makes no difference to me. I'm just telling you once again, that you are safer with me than you are out there on your own.”

She said nothing, knowing instinctively that what he said could very well be true. But it would never stop her from trying.