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behind you.’
    Her lashes fluttered, threatening to close. She blinked, trying to stay alert, but the rocking motion caused by the horse’s slow, even gait played havoc with her efforts. Lachlan Elliot’s warmth lured her like a drunkard to his brew but she refused to relax back against him.
    ‘How did you escape?’ The quietly spoken question banished her weariness like a plunge in an icy loch. She stiffened, leaning further away from his cradling warmth. ‘What have you done?’
    ‘I did what I needed to do.’ Guilt tripped her heart. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d had to. She shuddered at the thought of anyone being hurt while fighting the fire she’d started.
    ‘What have you done?’ The quiet intensity of his repeated question tore shreds from her soul. A large hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her back against him. Concern and dread flowed from his biting grip, more frightening, for she could feel his pain, shared his fear. Her guilt doubled. Her stomach churned.
    ‘‘Tis all your fault.’ She wriggled and tried to break his hold. She couldn’t bear his suffering when her own shame at the hurt and damage she might have caused made her ill.
    ‘Aye. I forced you to steal my horse. Christ, keep still.’
    ‘You forced me to escape.’
    ‘Forced you? You agreed to marry—’
    ‘Marry you or hang. Nae choice at all. Both spell death, though hanging would be quicker and kinder.’
    Her final word floated in the frosty air for a whisper of time. Drawing a deep breath, she fought to slow her racing heart. She longed to hear him speak, break the brittle silence swarming around them. An angry word. Something.
    Anything.
    He said nothing. Left her to wallow in strangling silence, left her to her guilty thoughts.
    The rigid thighs and arms locked about her body were the only sign he was still there. She’d exchanged a prison of stone for a prison of flesh. Stronger, more lethal. Would he punish her for escaping? Perhaps he’d now change his mind about marrying her. Faint hope fluttered in her chest.
    She inhaled and with it, tasted the faint smell of smoke. The memory of charred fingers flashed in her mind. The vision of her own hand lowering the flaming kindling to her bedding swiftly followed. She peered down at her hands.
    ‘Fire?’ her captor questioned softly.
    A wave of chilling uncertainty rushed through her. She had no clue what had happened once she’d fled. Her hand fisted. ‘I did what I had to,’ she whispered.
    The body behind her stiffened, the arms about her tightened, locked. ‘Precisely what did you do?’ His quiet tone rang with menace.
    She bit her lower lip. She’d meant no harm. If anyone had been wounded or—bile rose in her throat.
    At that moment their mount topped a rise. Through watery eyes, Kenzie stared in horror at the blur that lit the bleak, dark landscape below.
    ‘Dear God, forgive me.’

Chapter 6
    Never had Lachlan witnessed the pale stone walls of Castle Redheugh brushed red-gold by so many flaming torches. The cavernous night hunched about the blazing splendour, its blanketing darkness the perfect backdrop to highlight the glowing beauty of his ancestral home. But his appreciation soon gave way to anger.
    He tallied how many torches were burning, their lengths squandered. Time spent binding strips of greenwood and soaking the moss-filled end in animal fat so it would catch alight and burn also wasted. Wasted, looking for the woman before him.
    He dragged his awareness from the costly scene and stared at the back of his future wife’s bowed head. His father had impressed upon him the need for restraint to ensure his people survived, to always consider his people’s needs compared to unnecessary wants. He’d been taught to loathe waste. Hadn’t she? With Lennox as her father, likely not.
    But she needed to learn. Once they were wed, Lachlan would teach her. This, among other things.
    The woman managed to stir trouble wherever she went, had run free and wild