It beggared belief.

She was captive.

And he hadn’t allowed her to take the only things she had left of her mother.

Tears had long since dried on her cheeks, leaving them sticky, and new tears sometimes surprised her by trickling slowly from her dry, swollen tired eyes. They had not stopped to sleep, and the sun was already on the rise.

She had never felt so heartbroken. So utterly desolate.

He barely spoke to her. Hardly a word. She might as well have been alone; though if she were, her hands would not be bound tight enough to leave them numb. She was nearly unable to hold onto the saddle’s horn to maintain balance.

They were no longer on the road to Inverness, that was for certain. She kept her wits about her as best she could, determined to remember the route they took in order to trace her course back home. Or at least to the place on the road where she had been overtaken.

They were on little more than a trail at times, the trees closing in on either side, hardly much more than a thin strip of worn-down ground marking the way. It was full of stones which made for slow going, the horses needing to take care in finding secure footing.

In other words, it was little traveled. Which meant there was little chance of anyone saving her.

If only he would tell her what he wanted, what he expected of her. The brim of Geoffrey’s hat shaded his face from the sun, making it impossible for her to discern his thoughts or even the mood he was in.

“You know,” she said, just to twist the knife in his chest, that he might understand some of the pain she felt, “my mother’s pearls were in my trunk. And her brooch. Both of which might have fetched quite a sum. But you would not allow me to bring them along.”

He growled. “I didna know, did I? I suppose I would have taken them, at that.”

“You would have stolen them from me and sold them, in spite of how I begged and pleaded with you over how much those things meant to me?”

“Pearls are merely pearls, lass,” he informed her, casting a doleful eye in her direction as he did.

In Geoffrey’s tunic and other garments, he reminded her of a child dressing up as a man.

He was far younger than Geoffrey, for one.

Though his shoulders and arms were much larger, stretching the cloth in places.

Her eyes snapped back up to his profile, rather than lingering over his sizable frame. “They meant something to me! And you were foolish enough to order me to leave them behind. Now they are worthless, lying in a trunk which someone else might discover and benefit from.”

“If ye had told me what ye were going on about, I would have only taken them from ye,” he reminded her. “Which ye didna tell me, because ye knew that was what I’d do. It was smarter for ye not to mention pearls or any sort of finery. I would do the same in your place. I would most certainly have taken them into my possession, as well, so ye would have parted with yer precious pearls in any case. Let us forget about it and be quiet, for the love of all that’s holy.”

His attention turned to the road which was not a road, to guiding their mounts between two close-growing trees with branches which tangled together low overhead. She did not speak again until they were clear of it.

“Why did we not continue on to Inverness?” she asked, though she knew the answer. She merely needed to hear another voice, even if the voice happened to be his.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.”

“I merely wished to understand. You have me bound up like a brood sow on the way to market. The least you might grant me is understanding of what you plan to do.”

“Why do you speak as ye do?”

She blinked. This was a rather abrupt change of subject. “What do you mean?”

“Are ye from the Highlands?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve spent yer entire life here?”

“Yes.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Yet ye speak like you’re a noble. Educated. Why is that?”

She smiled with fond memory. “My mother wished it so.”

“Who was yer mother? A noble?”

“Why do you insist on going on about nobles?”

“Because only nobles think educating their bairns is important—especially little girls,” he added.

She could not argue the point. “My father did not see the importance of it,” she admitted with a wry grin.

“He was the Highlander, then.”

“Yes. He was.”

“Which clan was his?”

It did not seem as though he could use the information against her, and her sense of pride pushed her to speak. “Fraser.”

“Clan Fraser, eh?” He nodded. “Not a clan to be trifled with.”

“No, indeed.”

“It is a good thing, then, that we’ve left their territory,” he grinned.

She controlled her distaste and her disappointment. “I suppose you would see it that way.” She might have thought to mention her clan before then. It might have caused her captor to think twice about taking her.

After all, the Marquis was in another country. Niall and the rest were like as not on the road to Inverness while the entire nightmarish event of her capture took place.

She might have thought to mention this to him, perhaps threaten him with their possible presence. This ordeal could have been avoided… perhaps.

“Ye wanted to know why I didna wish to travel further toward Inverness,” he reminded her. “Do ye think I’m daft enough to take ye into a busy, crowded place and allow ye to scream at the top of your lungs that I took ye captive? Do I look like a fool?”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t answer that question,” she replied as icily as possible.

He laughed. “Aye, I shouldn’t have asked it.”

Strange. He seemed good-natured, even amusing. He could laugh at himself. He had been so fierce and ruthless while taking her under his control. It might have been the fact that they were now far from Inverness, or by the looks of it, any village.

He felt secure, so he could be in good humor.

“What is it you plan to do, then? Escort me all the way to France? You do not even know where we’re going.”

“I expect you’ll tell me, if ye ever plan to make it there.” He looked at her, his keen eyes taking in her face, slumped shoulders, and bound hands. “I suppose I might as well make it clear to ye. I have no intention of harming ye. I’ve never harmed a woman and never wish to do so. This is merely a way for me to earn your ransom. We will part ways after that.”

She could hardly believe her ears. “You think it will be so easy? That the Marquis will allow you to leave unscathed?”

“Leave that to me,” he muttered, looking straight ahead.

Ysmaine fell quiet, but only for a minute. “Truly, I think this is poorly conceived.”

“I didna ask ye for an opinion. And I won’t be letting ye go, so ye might do well to abandon all such hopes.”

“Where are we going, then?” she asked.

“Must there always be questions?”

“Yes, because you chose to take me captive,” she pointed out.

“I could gag ye and earn a little silence,” he mused.

She snickered. “I’m certain that anyone we happen to cross paths with would find it worth questioning, a young woman, bound and gagged, on horseback.”

“If they spent five minutes with you, they would understand the reason for the gag,” he grunted.

They rode in silence for a stretch, with Ysmaine gathering her thoughts as best she could. If there was any chance of escape, it would have to be when they’d dismounted. Either to water the horses or to answer the call of nature, something to that effect.

While she hadn’t the slightest understanding of where they were, she could follow the nearest stream or river to find help. One thing her father had taught her was the importance of following the flow of water to where people built their homes. If ever she became lost, simply follow the water.

It would do her well to wait until the horses needed watering, then.

“How much longer will we ride without resting?” she groaned. Every muscle in her body fairly screamed in protest at the slightest movement.

“Will ye ever tire of asking questions? I am holding the rope which binds your hands together, along with the horse’s reins. And I will not hesitate to harm ye if pushed too far.”

“You already said you wouldn’t.”

“I said I had no wish to.” He fixed her with a cold glare. “I also had no wish to leave a man tied to a tree while he wore nothing but a pair of breeches, but I did so because I had to do so. I would not want to make ye even more uncomfortable than ye already are, but I could if the need arose. Keep that in mind, lass.”

As if to prove his point, he gave the rope around her hands a mighty tug, along with the reins of the horse on which she rode. She jerked to her left, closer to him, unable to stifle a cry of surprise at the sudden movement.

“I am in control here,” he said. “Remember it.”

She would remember.

That would not mean she liked it.