Taken Angeline Fortin (best novels of all time TXT) 📖

10

A fairytale-like mist clung close to the ground but Scarlett seriously doubted that what was happening equated to a happily ever after for her.

This was more like being lost in the psychedelic, drug-induced haze of Wonderland… though the Red Queen in this interpretation was little more than a cantankerous Scot in red plaid.

Even so, it was a lovely rabbit hole to have disappeared into, she thought as they rode northward.

Her resentment with Laird faded away as the scenic beauty of the land they traversed snared her attention.  The borderlands of Scotland were truly picturesque.  The Cheviot Hills laid out before them in sweeping dips and waves of greens, ambers and browns without a telephone pole or paved road to spoil the view.  Not a single vapor trail to mar the perfectly blue sky.  Just wilderness, actually wild in a way she had never experienced.

And it was so quiet, too.  Oh, there was the occasional noise.  The bustle of beast and man, the chaffing of leather and metal but still undisturbed somehow without the electronic hum that accompanied everything in the twenty-first century.

Even her breaths seemed loud here when challenged by nothing louder than the whisper of a breeze, the sigh of the wind moving through the tall grass.  The song of the birds.  Things Scarlett had never known in Hollywood, New York or even back in Memphis where she had grown up.

It was even different from the Scotland she had discovered while filming there.  Edenic.  Perfect.

To her surprise, she didn’t miss the sounds of the city at all.  The honks and horns, cars and trains.  The planes continuously flying overhead.  Even the Caribbean beaches she had vacationed on weren’t this peaceful.

Though she certainly preferred a quick plane ride to the hours on horseback awaiting her again today.  Though it seemed like an eternity, they’d only ridden about four hours the previous day leaving many more tedious, painstaking hours to fill the day.

The sun was high overhead before James called for a break.  His captive wilted off his mount’s bony backside with a low moan, her knees nearly buckling beneath her.  He felt stab of remorse for imposing such an uncomfortable position on her but forced it away.  She had brought on her problems without any aid from him.

She – Scarlett, Rhys called her – looked different this day when compared to the last, he realized as he set her on her feet.  A rash of tiny freckles dotted her nose and cheeks.  Freckles that he hadn’t noticed the previous day with the cosmetics she wore.  Nor were her cheeks and lips artificially colored, the dark kohl from around her eyes had been washed away.  Many women at court painted their faces, though with far different effect.

He usually preferred a natural beauty and this day in regard to his captive, too, he felt the same.  She looked younger and more amicable though her brow was still furrowed crossly and her pointed chin set stubbornly as she limped away.

“Dinnae go far.”

The lass raised a mocking brow.  “Bossy much?  Who died and made you God?”

Though James was taken aback by her blasphemy, it was easy to tell from her tone that her quip was not literally meant.  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  Even as fatigued as she was, the lass retained her sass.

Scarlett found some privacy over the next rise then washed her hands and face in the nearby stream.  Laird had only stopped there for the benefit of the horses, treating his livestock better than his prisoner but she was happy enough to reap the benefits.  She drank her fill, hoping she wouldn’t regret the indulgence in the hours to come.

Thinking to work off some of her stiffness and pain, she started out along the creek bank in long, therapeutic strides.  But not for long.  Laird dragged her to a halt not a dozen steps later and glared down at her.

“Need I remind ye that ye swore ye wouldnae run away?”  He turned back toward the horses and Scarlett felt her feet dragging.  “Can’t I just walk around?” she asked.  “I won’t run away.  I just need the exercise and maybe to escape for a little while.”

“Is that no’ the same thing?”

“Absolutely not.  Sometimes one needs to get away from their problems and the people causing them.  It doesn’t mean that they don’t plan on going back,” she told him.  “Haven’t you ever felt that way?”

“Mayhap.  What do ye run from, lass?”

Everything. She should have known she couldn’t actually get away though.  Not even centuries away from her normal life.

“Surprisingly, not the things I normally run from,” she said instead.

“I dinnae ken yer meaning.”  Laird released her arm but turned to continue her projected path down the edge of the winding stream.

Scarlett fell in next to him, taking a moment to consider her response.  “You might not understand this, but most days I don’t usually have even a moment to myself.  I have people demanding my attention, my time.  People always watching me.  Sometimes, I can’t even have five minutes alone and most times, I can’t take a walk like this without someone following me.”  An ironic smile slowly curled her lips.  “I still can’t, it seems.”

“I understand that all too well, lass.” Laird lifted his eyes to the northern horizon, looking surprisingly contemplative but Scarlett shook her head.

“I seriously doubt it.”

“We all hae eyes upon us, lass.”

“Never mind.  You wouldn’t understand.”

He let the matter drop without further argument and they walked a ways in silence.  Laird pulled out a piece of dried meat and handed it to her.  It was no Slim Jim but she was hungry enough not to care.

“Yer given name is Scarlett?”

Scarlett blinked in surprise at the question.  It had been years since anyone had asked her that.  Asked her name at all.  Introductions were a thing of the past.  Everywhere she went, people knew her name and because of it, acted as if