"I have not yet decided. If he leaves here, I may come back. If not, then France. We will go to Uncle Louis in the south of France. My mother and I visited him once a few years ago."

"But what of your castle here? Your clan?"

"What do I care?" Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out. "I do not even want to live. My clan hates me. They love Lachlan. He is their leader as I will never be. I do not fit in here as I had hoped. And I cannot abide an unfaithful husband and his whores."

"At least talk to him first. Angelique, I know you love him."

"No! I will never speak to him again. Have the grooms ready the coach in the stables so no one will know it's us within when we leave. Send some servants up to carry our trunks. And have them keep their mouths shut. No one will know we have left for a great while."

A half hour later, they slipped out the side door and to the stables under the cover of darkness. The coach was waiting with their trunks already loaded.

"We go into Perth," she told the driver and her two armed bodyguards. They nodded and climbed on board. One guard sat up front with the driver, and the other on the back. They needed protection passing Kormad's estate, and she was not so stupid as to forgo that.

The driver whipped the horses into motion and they rumbled through the gate which he'd had the guards open moments ago.

Sitting beside Camille, Angelique gazed back through the blackness at the glow in the windows of Draughon and the torches lighting the bailey. Her gaze found the south tower. Inside it, Lachlan had broken her heart a thousand times over.

I am just like my mother. Running from a heartache she would never escape. Though other men had loved her mother, she had loved none of them back. Not the way she'd loved Angelique's father.

Her throat constricted. "I shall never love again," she whispered. "I swear it."

"Oh, Ange." Camille moved to the seat beside her and pulled her into a warm embrace. "I knew you loved him. You should have confronted him."

Angelique shook her head. "No. I might kill him or his whore if given the least opportunity."

The lane became rougher. The driver slowed but they bounced back and forth. Outside the window, the night grew darker as clouds hid the moon and stars.

Nearby, riders on horseback, the many hooves thudding against the ground, startled Angelique.

"Whoa!" someone yelled. The coach slowed.

"Where are we?" Angelique asked.

"The village?"

"No, we've not had time."

Angelique had forgotten to load her pistol. She drew a dagger instead.

***

Halfway home from the Robertson estate, Lachlan glanced back at the two white mares glowing in the twilight. Aye, indeed Angelique would love them. They were beauties, strong and spirited. Two of his clansmen led them. He had hoped to be home before dark, but the Robertson clan's hospitality knew no bounds. They had shared food, drink and lively talk too long.

A war cry sounded from the bushes. Horses galloped at Lachlan and his party of six.

"What the hell?" Lachlan drew his sword and charged them on horseback. Kormad again? The bastard!

His blade struck one of the attackers.

Pistol fire exploded, lighting the gloom for a second. A man cried out. Horses neighed and reared. In the melee and low light, it was hard to identify anyone. The men released the white mares and they galloped away.

"Don't kill him yet!" someone yelled. Kormad.

One man on foot grabbed Lachlan's horse's bridle, while two more came at him from the side. Before he could strike either, one latched onto his sword arm. A fist punched him in the stomach.

He struck out but could not free his arm from the clinging leech who near wrung his shoulder from its socket. Pain sliced through him. The bastards dragged him from the saddle. Once on the ground, Lachlan dropped the sword and closed his hand around the hilt of the dagger on his belt, better for close combat. Before he could withdraw it, something bashed into his head and blackness descended.

***

"If that is Kormad, why are my guards not shooting them?" Angelique whispered inside the coach.

"I don't know," Camille said. "What if it is Girard?"

Dread sank like a stone in Angelique's stomach.

"M'lady." One of her bodyguards opened the door. "Laird Rebbinglen is here. He must speak with you." He moved back and Rebbie, holding a torch, took his place.

"Lady Angelique, what are you doing so far from Draughon this late?" Frowning, he ran his midnight gaze over her and Camille.

Angelique's lips seemed sewn shut. How could she speak the words, the truth, of Lachlan's betrayal?

"Lachlan has been captured," Rebbie said. "Kormad took him on his way back from the Robertson's."

"Robertson's? What do you mean?"

"Lachlan took a few Drummagan men, including the steward, and went to the Robertson's holdings this morn. On the way back, Kormad and his men attacked their party, killing one man. They knocked Lachlan out, made off with him, and sent word by the other men that they would hold him hostage until they had what they wanted. If they didn't receive it within a day, they would kill him."

"Mère de Dieu." Angelique's thoughts were a jumble. How could Lachlan have been gone to the Robertson's? She had seen him with her own eyes in the tower. Was this some kind of trick to get her to come back?

"The stable lad told us you'd left. I don't know what you're doing out here, or how you slipped past us, but you must come back to Draughon with us."

"Yes. We go back." No matter what Lachlan had done, she would not abandon him to Kormad. If he was indeed captured, she would help him.

The driver turned the coach, though it took several minutes. A short time later, they arrived back at Draughon.

"Where were you going?" Rebbie asked, once they, along with Dirk, Camille and Fingall, were in the solar.

"I do not wish to speak of it. It is between Lachlan and me," Angelique said, her stomach feeling queasy when she remembered what she'd witnessed in the south tower.

The room was silent for a long, tense moment.

"Why was Lachlan supposedly gone to the Robertson's?" she asked.

Rebbie and Dirk exchanged a glance. The sort of silent communication men do when they don't wish a woman to know a secret.

"He went to buy you a white mare as a wedding gift," Rebbie finally said.

"Two white mares," Dirk added.

"Is that so?" How long had it taken them to think up that story? And they couldn't even get it straight. Lachlan's two friends would lie and cover for him no matter what. They were loyal unto death and she didn't trust them to tell the truth any more than she trusted Lachlan.

"Indeed."

"So, Kormad has him. How do we get him freed?" she asked, trying to stay focused on the task at hand and not her mangled emotions.

"Kormad does not work alone. I believe you ken who Girard is."

The sensation of a chilling wind blew over her. "Mon Dieu. Not Girard. He is there, helping Kormad?"

"Aye."

She stared into Camille's terrified eyes. "God help us all. He will kill him."

"We're going to make sure that doesn't happen," Rebbie said, his voice stern. "Girard wants something he believes you have. Some sort of diamond pendant."

The diamond now hung suspended from a chain around her neck, the large icy stone lying between her breasts. It was no comfort at all. The thing was more like a noose.