He picked up his pace once more, running at a full sprint. He’d have to steal a horse, or he’d never make it home in time.
* * *
She wanted to close her eyes, not to watch, but to look away was tantamount to turning her back on her men. So Jenny pushed to her feet and watched the redcoats walk into the croft, prayers on her mind but not her lips. She waited a beat, counting in her head.
Silence.
“Who is your laird?” the dragoon who’d just assaulted her said from behind. She could still feel his breath on her neck, his hands gripping her body, smell the fetid stink of his mouth. Oh, how she wanted to cut those hands from his limbs.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled as she realized that he could pull a weapon and put a bullet in her skull right now if he so chose. She’d not be the first rebel to have that punishment exacted on her. She clutched her basket closer, wishing she could pull out the pistol, that she had enough shot to silence them all. When she didn’t answer right away, he shoved her to the ground. She was desperately glad she’d had the forethought to keep the basket from tumbling away. Unfortunately at the expense of her chin, which smarted from colliding with the ground.
The answer to his question was easy and true and might very well gain her some favor. “Mackintosh,” she said. “He’s no’ a Jacobite. He’s loyal to King George.”
The man was silent behind her, but neither did he shoot her nor assault her once more. Ironic that the name of the brother by whom she felt so betrayed would be what saved her from rape and murder.
Anger prickled just beneath her skin, begging to be let out. She dragged in a deep breath, blew it out. Again. And again. It didn’t help. Jenny itched to unleash her rage on this man. She made a promise to herself that if she ever faced him on a dark road, just the two of them, she’d put a bullet in his head.
Thankfully the two dragoons who’d entered her croft came back out, arms loaded with the food she and her men had stored for the week.
“You’ve a lot of provisions,” the man behind her said.
“I’ve a hearty appetite. As does my husband.” She turned slowly to face the dragoon, keeping the anger shielded from her gaze.
“Where is your husband?”
“He was getting me a chicken. Then took some of our cattle out to graze, I suppose.”
“Are you often left alone?” Boyd hungrily let his gaze rake over her body, causing her skin to crawl all the more.
Jenny bristled. “I can take care of myself just fine. And he’s never gone long.”
Hard lines etched the man’s face around his eyes and mouth. He was cold, his eyes like those of a dead fish out of the loch. She knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to rape her if she only gave him an excuse.
“May I ask your name?” Jenny wanted to know exactly who it was who’d assaulted her. She’d etch his name into the hilt of her sword as well and wait for the day she could claim his life in the name of every innocent he’d violated.
“I am Captain Thomas Boyd. And you are?”
This too she’d practiced. “Mary Mackintosh.”
Behind him, redcoats were putting her provisions into their saddlebags.
“We thank you, Mrs. Mackintosh, for your hospitality,” Captain Boyd said, his eyes glittering with malice.
Go away, she wanted to shout. Go back to England, or suffer the end of my sword! But she remained silent, managing a bob of her head, and bit the tip of her tongue.
“You have not happened to see two prisoners run by, have you?”
Jenny shook her head, not commenting on the fact that he’d already asked her if she’d seen them. “Nay, I assure ye, I’d not have been tending my gardening all alone if I’d known there were fugitives running around.” Ye bloody bastard.
Captain Boyd narrowed his eyes. “But you must realize the fugitives are everywhere. Jacobites swarm the Highlands like rats.”
He was trying to get a rise out of her. “Aye, we’re infested, ’tis true. But no’ so on Mackintosh lands. Our laird doesna tolerate it.”
“Good. If you should notice anything, be certain to report it to us.”
“I will, of course, Captain.” She did her best to sound obliging and not like she wanted to shove her dagger in his eyeball.