determined to escape, in spite of her bare feet. Then she would think what to do next. One step at a time, wasn’t that the course people generally took in dire predicaments?
She only had to escape before they reached Mr. Campbell’s hovel, for she couldn’t bear to imagine where men like these would keep their hostages. She worked to convince herself she could survive almost anything—a nightalone in the forest, for example. She could survive anything but a rat-infested dungeon cell. If there were rodents—
Daria shivered rather violently.
“Be still, ” her captor said roughly.
They continued on, his weight pressing even more against her, his chest, heavy and damp with his perspiration, wider than her back. How far would they go? It felt as if they were riding to the ends of the earth. Perhaps they meant to camp, which would present her with an opportunity to flee. She would take his plaid for warmth. She would tear off pieces to wrap around her feet. She would steal a knife from the sleeping giant.
They crested a rise, then started down a narrow path. Daria could see light sparkling through the dense forest, and as they moved farther down the hill, she could hear water running. A river! They eventually arrived at the river’s edge and moved into a small valley where the river widened, turning dark against the gold and green of the hills. Dark green firs rose up to touch a clear blue sky; wildflowers grew along the worn path. It was ironically picturesque, given that this was the ugliest day of Daria’s life thus far.
But then she saw hope—up ahead, she could see two men fishing in the river. Her prayers had been answered!
Duff said something to which no one responded. She guessed he was warning them, telling them that she would attempt to escape. Daria’s heart began to pound—this was her chance, and she had to do it perfectly. As they approached the men, one of them turned to look at the party, and Daria seized her moment. “Help!” she shrieked.
“Diah,” Duff said.
She clawed at Campbell’s arm. “ Help me! I’ve been kidnapped! I do not belong with these men, they have taken me against my will!”
Campbell reined up, and for a slim moment Daria thought she’d won. But that hope evaporated when he said, “How are they biting, then, lads?”
“Fair enough,” the older of the two men said. He trapped his pole between his legs, then doffed his hat, running his fingers through a thick crop of graying red hair.
Daria’s anxiety choked the air from her lungs. “Do you not hear me?” she cried breathlessly. “These men have kidnapped me and intend to hold me for ransom!”
“Aye, we heard you,” the fisherman said.
Speechless—Daria was completely speechless. What man could turn a deaf ear to a woman’s cry for help? And the other one! He squatted down again to continue cleaning a pile of fish as if she’d not even spoken!
“You’ll bring some round to Dundavie if you catch more than you can use, aye?” Campbell said.
“There ought to be plenty, Laird.” The man returned his hat to his head and took up the pole he’d tucked between his legs.
Campbell spoke in that awful tongue to the others, then nudged the horse to walk on. Daria stared ahead in utter disbelief, sagging against her captor as they rode. “A nightmare,” she said in a voice that was dangerously close to a whimper. “I am in the midst of a nightmare from which I cannot wake.”
No one bothered to deny it.
Their progress continued at an interminably slow pace, Campbell’s warm weight pressing harder against Daria’sback. She began to imagine a man like him in a bed, sinking into a mattress. She imagined a man rolling onto his side, his arms going about her— what in heaven was she thinking? But she couldn’t help herself. With his arm around her, his chin on her shoulder now, she’d never felt a man so firmly against her, thigh to thigh, his sex pressed against her back.
She’d gone mad, that was
She only had to escape before they reached Mr. Campbell’s hovel, for she couldn’t bear to imagine where men like these would keep their hostages. She worked to convince herself she could survive almost anything—a nightalone in the forest, for example. She could survive anything but a rat-infested dungeon cell. If there were rodents—
Daria shivered rather violently.
“Be still, ” her captor said roughly.
They continued on, his weight pressing even more against her, his chest, heavy and damp with his perspiration, wider than her back. How far would they go? It felt as if they were riding to the ends of the earth. Perhaps they meant to camp, which would present her with an opportunity to flee. She would take his plaid for warmth. She would tear off pieces to wrap around her feet. She would steal a knife from the sleeping giant.
They crested a rise, then started down a narrow path. Daria could see light sparkling through the dense forest, and as they moved farther down the hill, she could hear water running. A river! They eventually arrived at the river’s edge and moved into a small valley where the river widened, turning dark against the gold and green of the hills. Dark green firs rose up to touch a clear blue sky; wildflowers grew along the worn path. It was ironically picturesque, given that this was the ugliest day of Daria’s life thus far.
But then she saw hope—up ahead, she could see two men fishing in the river. Her prayers had been answered!
Duff said something to which no one responded. She guessed he was warning them, telling them that she would attempt to escape. Daria’s heart began to pound—this was her chance, and she had to do it perfectly. As they approached the men, one of them turned to look at the party, and Daria seized her moment. “Help!” she shrieked.
“Diah,” Duff said.
She clawed at Campbell’s arm. “ Help me! I’ve been kidnapped! I do not belong with these men, they have taken me against my will!”
Campbell reined up, and for a slim moment Daria thought she’d won. But that hope evaporated when he said, “How are they biting, then, lads?”
“Fair enough,” the older of the two men said. He trapped his pole between his legs, then doffed his hat, running his fingers through a thick crop of graying red hair.
Daria’s anxiety choked the air from her lungs. “Do you not hear me?” she cried breathlessly. “These men have kidnapped me and intend to hold me for ransom!”
“Aye, we heard you,” the fisherman said.
Speechless—Daria was completely speechless. What man could turn a deaf ear to a woman’s cry for help? And the other one! He squatted down again to continue cleaning a pile of fish as if she’d not even spoken!
“You’ll bring some round to Dundavie if you catch more than you can use, aye?” Campbell said.
“There ought to be plenty, Laird.” The man returned his hat to his head and took up the pole he’d tucked between his legs.
Campbell spoke in that awful tongue to the others, then nudged the horse to walk on. Daria stared ahead in utter disbelief, sagging against her captor as they rode. “A nightmare,” she said in a voice that was dangerously close to a whimper. “I am in the midst of a nightmare from which I cannot wake.”
No one bothered to deny it.
Their progress continued at an interminably slow pace, Campbell’s warm weight pressing harder against Daria’sback. She began to imagine a man like him in a bed, sinking into a mattress. She imagined a man rolling onto his side, his arms going about her— what in heaven was she thinking? But she couldn’t help herself. With his arm around her, his chin on her shoulder now, she’d never felt a man so firmly against her, thigh to thigh, his sex pressed against her back.
She’d gone mad, that was
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