‘Where is Lady Ross?’ he said.
‘We’ve had men out looking for her and to fetch you back. Cook became concerned when the Lady did not return to discuss supper with her as she normally does. Did Will and Seyton not cross you on the road? I sent them to meet you.’
‘I came via Upper Fell and saw no one.’ Unease uncoiled in Callum’s gut. ‘And did you send men to Bryce to ask of Tara, or to Orla at Blackreach?’
‘Aye, a good while ago, but they sent word back that she has not been to either. Bryce is out looking now. Do you know any others the Lady would visit, Laird?’
Callum’s hands curled into fists, and a sick feeling took his belly. Tara had few friends in the area on whom she could rely and no one but Orla who she would visit. ‘Why did she go alone, Greaves?’ he asked.
‘She told the stable master to saddle her a quiet horse. Said she wanted to practice her riding skills so as to impress you with her progress. She took Seamus for company and promised she would not go far – just up to Darkling Falls and back. Said she had often heard of its beauty and was eager to see it.’
‘She should not have gone out, and you should not have let her, you fool!’ bellowed Callum.
‘I did not know until she was gone, Laird, or I would have stopped her,’ he cried in anguish. ‘Perhaps they rode too far and got lost, or a horse went lame. And ‘tis not a cold night. My Lady will not freeze. I am sure the men will find her soon enough.’
Callum could not catch his breath, and his mind swirled with awful possibilities. He squeezed his eyes tight shut and tried to think clearly. ‘Forgive my temper,’ he said to Greaves. ‘You are a loyal man, and ‘tis not your fault. ‘Tis mine, for leaving my Lady alone. Get me a fresh horse and more men, and we will search on, into the night if necessary.’
There was a clatter of many hooves outside in the yard, and then Bryce rushed in.
‘I hear you have lost Tara,’ he said.
‘Aye,’ replied Callum. ‘And I am not resting until I get her back.’
‘There is dire news, my friend. I sent men up to Darkling Falls when I received word from Greaves. Tara’s horse was there, but its rider was not. And a search revealed one of your men.’ Bryce took a breath and blurted out the worst of his message. ‘Someone had opened his throat.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tara came to painful consciousness, hardly daring to open her eyes, fearing what she might see. There was a dull ache in her temple and a terrible fog in her mind. She was lying on a hard bed in a dark room, barely warmed by the meagre fire in one corner. She heard the scurry of rats and spied their greasy shadows darting this way and that in the gloom. It must be almost dusk, judging by the yellow light fading through a window set high in the wall.
Muffled voices came from the other side of a door. Tara hauled herself upright and staggered to the window. She stood on tiptoe, trying to see out, but it was set too high, and it was far too small to squeeze through. Fighting dizziness, she dragged her bed over to it and stepped up. The view outside made her heart sink. Dense forest surrounded her to the limit of her view. It would keep her hidden from any passing travellers. Whoever had stolen her had chosen her prison well.
But who had taken her? The hooded man had said, ‘His Lordship wants you alive.’ Surely a high-born man would not kidnap a laird’s wife? A horrible thought occurred. Hew Gordon had a grudge against Callum for hitting him that awful night at Raigmoor when her uncle had tried to sell her. Would Hew take such an insult this far? Surely not, for it was too much to risk for a man of his rank.
Tara let her awful circumstances sink in and stifled a sob with her hands. They must not hear that she was awake. She needed time to think and prepare herself. Whoever had taken her, they were men of violence – ruthless, merciless. These moments could be her last.
At the waterfall, the hooded man had hauled her to her feet, and when she had asked him what he was doing, he had simply replied, ‘Taking you, lass, for his Lordship’s pleasure.’ Tara could vaguely recall resisting his efforts to pull her over to his horse and scratching at his face. There had been other men, too, though she could not remember how many. Oh, Seamus. Did he get away from them and raise the alarm? Perhaps there had been too many for him to fight, and he had fled.
How could she not know what had happened to Seamus? A savage blow to her face had sent her reeling, the earth coming up to meet her, and then darkness until she had woken to this nightmare. She must have hit her head when she fell, for she remembered nothing more. Tara felt along her clothing. All was in place. She had not been molested, but how long would she stay that way? She recalled the man’s words. ‘His Lordship’s pleasure.’
A murmur of voices split the silence, coming closer. The door crashed open, and a tall man strode in, swarthy, steely-eyed and with a fighter’s build.
‘Awake at last, though maybe not quite so bonnie as usual,’ he said, pulling her face up and regarding a sore spot on the side of it with mock concern. He gripped hard, fingers digging in. ‘You must learn to obey, little bird. It would be a shame to mar your beauty with bruises, but mark me, if you try to run, I will turn your face to a pulp. So, be tame whilst you are my guest.’
Fear closed Tara’s throat, but she managed to croak, ‘Why are you doing this? Why have you taken me?’
‘Why am I doing this?’ he mimicked in a high voice, mocking her. ‘Because your husband is a thorn in my side that needs plucking out. He is a hard bastard, but he will soon find out that I am a good deal harder. We have been watching you for quite some time, lass. It seems you are Laird Ross’s only weakness.’
‘You followed me,’ she croaked.
His fingers tightened, hurting, pinching her flesh between rough fingers. ‘Aye, and we despatched that old man easily enough.’
‘No.’
‘Oh, aye. And why mourn him, lass? Not much of a protector, was he?’ sneered the man. ‘Shame you are not a virgin, but I’m sure you’re well broken in by Ross, so you’ll know how to please a man.’
With that, he suddenly pressed his mouth to hers and forced a rough kiss upon it. It was intended to hurt rather than give him pleasure, and Tara sensed that struggling would only feed his cruelty, so she submitted to it. This bitter, vengeful man terrified her, and as his hands roamed all over her body, Tara was filled with revulsion. When she remained limp in his arms, he broke free, cursed and flung her back. She connected painfully with the wall.
‘He said, no, Stalker,’ came another voice, quailing in fear.