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asked, while his mind latched on to the ease with which his revenge could be enhanced in this fortuitous circumstance.
    "His willingness to marry did not extend to having an Englishwoman wearing his plaid. He is not entirely reconciled to this marriage."
    Lachlan had no trouble believing that. Looking at the all-too-innocent expression in the woman's eyes, he could not help wondering if that lack of reconciliation meant the marriage had not yet been consummated.
    "If you are his wife, he would only thank the Balmorals for ridding himself of you," Ulf said from behind them.
    Hurt flared briefly in her eyes and then she shielded them with her lashes, shrugging. "His pride would not like it, even if his emotions found only relief."
    Curiously, her hurt feelings moved Lachlan and he turned, glaring his brother into silence.
    Ulf's eyes widened, but he said nothing, merely frowned.
    Lachlan did not understand the fury coursing through him or the profound disappointment on finding that this unique and lovely woman was the wife of his enemy. However, he did understand that it would be cruel indeed to leave her to face Talorc's wrath when he learned of his sister's capture.
    He focused on the woman. She had regained her composure and was speaking again.
    "Even if I am English," Emily added under her breath, inexplicably hurt by the Balmoral soldier's cruel words.
    She should not care what any of these barbarians thought.
    Her captor heard her and smiled. Her heart almost stopped. An enemy's smile should not look so heavenly, particularly in a face painted for war.
    Without another word, he grabbed her and swung up on his horse again, dropping her in the same embarrassing perch she'd been before. Her legs straddled the horse and her backside sat against his hard thighs. She gave a gasp of surprise, but otherwise tried to hide her fear now that her plan had worked.
    She turned to her friend and said, "You must not concern yourself for me, Cait. I shall be fine. You can see that these warriors are kind and honorable."
    Cait simply shook her head, apparently struck dumb.
    Emily tried to smile, but didn't quite make it. "Goodbye, Cait."
    At that moment the horses started moving, but the warrior her captor had called Drustan did not release Cait.
    "You must let Cait go now that you have me."
    Her captor said nothing.
    She pinched at his thigh, but it was like trying to pinch a stone. "I said, you've got to let my friend go."
    "Nay."
    "Yes."
    "Silence."
    "I will not be silenced. Let her go, or I'll start screaming so loudly, they're bound to hear me all the way back at the keep."
    "One sound like that and I will gag you."
    She gasped.
    His hold on her tightened… a warning squeeze she wasn't about to ignore. She had no desire to be gagged.
    Her situation was dire enough. Her plan hadn't worked. Instead of releasing her friend, the warrior had kidnapped them both. What kind of man was this Highland laird that the prospect of stealing another laird's wife was not enough vengeance to take?
    She had to make one last attempt to change his mind, as futile as it might be. "But if you don't leave one of us behind, who will tell Talorc that it was the Balmorals that did this thing?" she asked, desperately.
    "The boy who was guarding you had opportunity to see our plaid before we knocked him asleep," the warrior said in a tone that discouraged further questions.
    She didn't see what she had to lose. "You left that poor boy senseless? What if wild animals get him? Then who will tell? What if wild animals had gotten me on my way back to the holding if I
had
been your messenger? I suppose that wouldn't have mattered to you, me being English and all."
    Her captor did not bother to answer. The horses gradually picked up speed until the war party was galloping away from Sinclair land at a speed that made Emily's head spin. She prayed for the safety of the unborn baby in her friend's womb and then prayed the man holding her would not drop her.
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