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Unless we headed to an even more remote region. I licked my lips and gulped.
Where was my body? Was Isobel in it? Had she flown to Oklahoma, or had she remained in Scotland? Did my family worry about me?
I stewed in silence for an eternity, wiggling constantly, trying to get more comfortable while also avoiding touching Mr. Bruce. He only ever twirled the signet ring around his finger.
Finally a cityscape with crowded roads, open shops, and brimming restaurants came into view. A whimper reverberated in my throat as I pressed my palm against the glass. People!
Mr. Bruce maintained a bored air until the car stopped in front of the Glen Highland Hotel, a beacon of timeless charm and grandeur. Honestly the fanciest resort I’d ever seen. The building must be over a hundred years old, yet it blended beautifully with its modern porte-cochère.
“You will remain at my side, conduct yourself as clan etiquette demands, and dazzle the masses,” my companion stated. “Do you understand?”
Dazzle the masses? “Are you serious? I’m not even wearing shoes.” Plus, I’d never been an accomplished lady of many talents, able to entertain at will. I mean, yes, Iamused my students. But I highly doubted he and his clan would enjoy a puppet show or a fun game of balloon toss.
He peered at my bare feet, fierce emotion flickering across his face, there and gone in a blink. Then his dark blue gaze met mine and constricted. “Our guests will assume you’re following an ancient custom.”
“What custom?” I asked because yes, curiosity got the better of me. I loved learning.
“Must I carry you, or will you behave and walk?” he asked with a sigh, ignoring my question as Angus opened his door.
For a chance to speak to a hotel employee… “I’ll walk, thank you.” I pasted on another smile.
A muscle jumped beneath his eye, but he emerged from the vehicle without further comment. When he held out a hand, intending to assist me, I noted the large scar dominating his palm. Different size circles, set in a pattern of three. My brow furrowed. A brand? It was a bigger version of the circles etched into the wedding band still encircling my ring finger. What did it mean?
I brushed him aside and climbed out on my own. Not as elegantly as I’d hoped, but hey, I never fell, and I made a point. Just don’t ask me what kind of point.
With a low grunt, Mr. Bruce wound an arm around my waist and urged me forward. The road grit coated my feet, making me grimace, but I refused to complain, certain he’d whisk me onto his shoulder again.
Uniformed attendants opened the wide double doors. Once inside, Buzz and Ponytail took up posts behind us. No matter. I could work around them. Despite the intimidating opulence of the lobby, I shouted to the patrons milling about, “Help me! I’ve been kidnapped!”
Everyone paused and stared in our direction, adoptingexpressions that ranged from humor to horror. A concierge leaped into action, rushing over. Mr. Bruce gave a stiff jerk of his chin, and the man instantly retreated. The other guests and staff looked away, suddenly busy, as I tried to make eye contact.
What would it take to find a knight in shining armor around here?
“Not another word from you,” Mr. Bruce muttered.
“Or what?” I demanded, glaring up at him. I’d already broken his original command. Twice! What would he do? Kill me, as threatened? Well, go ahead. Better to die now than after whatever torture he had designed.
The muscle under his eye jumped faster, but he said nothing more. None too gently, he hauled me past the mahogany reception desk, other luxurious furnishings and artwork that celebrated the Scottish landscapes. With each forced step, my feet sunk into the plush carpet. We veered down a wide hall, toward another set of closed double doors guarded by a pair of men as burly as the bodyguards. Difference was, these two sported kilts, reminding me why I’d ventured to this magnificent country in the first place. Surely they’d rush to my rescue, determined to save me even at the cost of their lives.
“If you give me any more trouble,” Mr. Bruce said conversationally as we approached, “I’ll give it right back to you.”
A warning I refused to heed. Since shouting hadn’t helped me, I used my own conversational tone, telling the kilted pair, “Hello. I’ve been kidnapped. My life is in grave danger.” Maybe a calmly stated fact would do the trick. “Please be so kind as to save me from my captor.”
Both men frowned and looked to Mr. Bruce, silently seeking instruction.
“Role play.” He flashed a smile. “Apparently, I’m a besotted abductor today.”
The pair smiled in return and elbowed each other before leaping into action, opening the doors.
I gnashed my teeth. “Must be nice, having people aid you without being asked.” We soared inside a large ballroom.
“Aye. It is.”
Jerk. I scanned my new surroundings. Mirrored walls, a vaulted wooden ceiling, and an open fireplace reminded me of times past, though no fire currently blazed. Men and women of varying ages filled the space, all dressed in their best. A colorful array of suits, kilts, and formal gowns. Wait staff strolled about, offering finger foods and flutes of bubbling champagne.
Mr. Bruce paused just beyond the doorframe, the powerful arm around my waist locking tight, ensuring I paused as well. Every gaze swung our way. Conversations ceased and heads bowed in deference.
I opened my mouth to try one more time–
