you unless you ask. I will control my banter for the girls’ sake. I think Ashlyn will feel more comfortable riding with you.”
He then strode over to his horse and pulled out one of his plaids. “Here, you can wear this when you get cold, and it will be cold, especially at night.”
She stared at Logan, and then walked over to take the plaid he offered, throwing it over her shoulders and tying it in a tangled mess around her waist. “Lord, give me strength. Grant, I need to borrow your horse for a bit before we go to alert my family of my plans.” She strode into the trees before she yelled over her shoulder. “I’ll need my own horse, and I’m not your lass, Ramsay.”
She heard Logan’s previous comment.
“You are now, with my plaid on you.”
He could think what he wanted. She was not his lass, regardless of the Highland custom of claiming a lass by giving her your plaid. She had heard his declaration before he had stabbed her captor, but she was sure he had been saying it for effect. Gwyneth chuckled. She accepted his plaid because she knew it would keep her warm during their journey, not for any other reason. He could believe whatever he wanted.
***
She had two important stops before she could leave—she had to see her brother and she had to see her boss, Dougal Hamilton.
She stopped at the Kirk first, and her brother threw his arms around her in a fierce hug, so relieved to see she was safe that he cried. He’d feared her dead when she disappeared without a trace.
He tugged her into their small living area in the back of the church and sat down with her at the table. Gwyneth’s story flew out, and he quietly listened, making a comment every now and again, mopping his brow as she spoke, but allowing her to share her story.
When she neared the end, he apparently couldn’t contain himself any longer and jumped out of his chair. “Duff? Duff Erskine kidnapped you? And he put you on a boat? Why?”
“For the same reason, Rab.”
“What same reason?”
“You recall when he shot Da and Gordon? He had a cargo of women in his cart.”
“For what? What were his plans for you?” Rab’s eyes grew wide as he spoke.
“His plan was to send me to the East, along with several other women.”
Rab sat down and placed his head in his hands. “Good Lord. How could he do such a thing? My Gwynie…”
She finished her story, and he promptly begged her not to travel.
“Rab, please. I need to do this for my friend, Caralyn.”
“Gwyneth, how can you consider traveling all the way to the Highlands with several men? ‘Tis unseemly, not to mention dangerous. I fear for you.” Rab fingered the cross around his neck as he spoke, glancing at the cross on his wall for comfort. He closed his eyes and prayed, as Gwyneth knew he so often did.
“I will be much safer with Logan Ramsay and the Grant warriors than I was here,” she said gently. “Look at what happened to me right outside your door. I was kidnapped from the side of the Kirk.”
“I know, Gwyneth, and this whole time I have been sick with worry. I cannot lose you, too. Please don’t go. Stay here with me.”
“And what if Erskine still searches for me?” While she hated the forlorn expression on her brother’s face, she was not about to sit here waiting for Erskine to strike again. If she stayed, it would be to go after him.
Rab mopped his brow with a linen square and paused for a moment, sighing. “You could be right. Gwynie, you look terrible, all bruised and beaten. I will say many prayers for you. Perhaps it would be best if you went away to heal. I hear the Grant warriors are strong and honorable. I don’t think even Duff Erskine would dare to tangle with them.” He wrapped his arms around her again, then stood back, holding her at arm’s length. “Stay for a bit first? I would love to talk to you. You have no idea how worried I have been.”
“Rab, I’m sorry, but I must go now. Two lassies are depending on me. I cannot,
He then strode over to his horse and pulled out one of his plaids. “Here, you can wear this when you get cold, and it will be cold, especially at night.”
She stared at Logan, and then walked over to take the plaid he offered, throwing it over her shoulders and tying it in a tangled mess around her waist. “Lord, give me strength. Grant, I need to borrow your horse for a bit before we go to alert my family of my plans.” She strode into the trees before she yelled over her shoulder. “I’ll need my own horse, and I’m not your lass, Ramsay.”
She heard Logan’s previous comment.
“You are now, with my plaid on you.”
He could think what he wanted. She was not his lass, regardless of the Highland custom of claiming a lass by giving her your plaid. She had heard his declaration before he had stabbed her captor, but she was sure he had been saying it for effect. Gwyneth chuckled. She accepted his plaid because she knew it would keep her warm during their journey, not for any other reason. He could believe whatever he wanted.
***
She had two important stops before she could leave—she had to see her brother and she had to see her boss, Dougal Hamilton.
She stopped at the Kirk first, and her brother threw his arms around her in a fierce hug, so relieved to see she was safe that he cried. He’d feared her dead when she disappeared without a trace.
He tugged her into their small living area in the back of the church and sat down with her at the table. Gwyneth’s story flew out, and he quietly listened, making a comment every now and again, mopping his brow as she spoke, but allowing her to share her story.
When she neared the end, he apparently couldn’t contain himself any longer and jumped out of his chair. “Duff? Duff Erskine kidnapped you? And he put you on a boat? Why?”
“For the same reason, Rab.”
“What same reason?”
“You recall when he shot Da and Gordon? He had a cargo of women in his cart.”
“For what? What were his plans for you?” Rab’s eyes grew wide as he spoke.
“His plan was to send me to the East, along with several other women.”
Rab sat down and placed his head in his hands. “Good Lord. How could he do such a thing? My Gwynie…”
She finished her story, and he promptly begged her not to travel.
“Rab, please. I need to do this for my friend, Caralyn.”
“Gwyneth, how can you consider traveling all the way to the Highlands with several men? ‘Tis unseemly, not to mention dangerous. I fear for you.” Rab fingered the cross around his neck as he spoke, glancing at the cross on his wall for comfort. He closed his eyes and prayed, as Gwyneth knew he so often did.
“I will be much safer with Logan Ramsay and the Grant warriors than I was here,” she said gently. “Look at what happened to me right outside your door. I was kidnapped from the side of the Kirk.”
“I know, Gwyneth, and this whole time I have been sick with worry. I cannot lose you, too. Please don’t go. Stay here with me.”
“And what if Erskine still searches for me?” While she hated the forlorn expression on her brother’s face, she was not about to sit here waiting for Erskine to strike again. If she stayed, it would be to go after him.
Rab mopped his brow with a linen square and paused for a moment, sighing. “You could be right. Gwynie, you look terrible, all bruised and beaten. I will say many prayers for you. Perhaps it would be best if you went away to heal. I hear the Grant warriors are strong and honorable. I don’t think even Duff Erskine would dare to tangle with them.” He wrapped his arms around her again, then stood back, holding her at arm’s length. “Stay for a bit first? I would love to talk to you. You have no idea how worried I have been.”
“Rab, I’m sorry, but I must go now. Two lassies are depending on me. I cannot,
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