by Gwyn Brodie
Galen cursed beneath his breath. The thought of the man's dirty hands touching her made his blood boil. He had to do something quick. He'd not allow the blackguard to follow through with what he intended.
"Nay," she screamed, digging the heels of her boots into the soft earth as he forced her to stumble along after him.
The other men laughed and shouted encouragement. "When ye're finished with the lass, Duglas, I'm next," a disheveled man with a matted beard said, before his lustful gaze moved to the servant cringing beneath her cloak. She screamed as he yanked her from her horse and tried to kiss her.
Galen slipped a small sgian dubh from the sheath he kept strapped to his forearm, and carefully held the tip between his index finger and thumb. He took aim at a spot on the oak tree just above the highwayman's head, then drew back his arm and with a quick flick of his wrist, let go. The blade whizzed through the air, producing a dull thud when it struck its mark.
Cursing, Duglas dove to the ground, taking the lass down with him.
The man clutching the servant followed suit, giving her the opportunity to run around to the other side of her horse and out of his reach. The other two highwaymen quickly slipped into the wood. That didn't worry Galen. Duncan and Cinead would see to them.
The lady's guards scrambled down off their horses and retrieved their weapons and targes. The younger of the two leapt in front the man who'd grabbed the servant, knocking a dirk from the outlaw's hand with his broadsword.
The older guard rushed toward his lady and her captor.
"Stay where ye are, I'm warning ye," the highwayman shouted, bringing his broadsword to her throat, "or her blood will be on yer hands."
The guard slid to a stop, but held his ground.
Before making his presence known, Galen assessed the situation. He saw no weapons on the highwayman, other than the broadsword.
Galen walked out of the wood, his broadsword in one hand and his targe in the other. "Let her go."
The outlaw snorted. "Why? Do ye want her for yerself?"
Her gaze was on Galen, eyes wide and pleading for help.
Aye, he wanted her. He'd be lying if he'd told himself otherwise. But never like this. "Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time. I said, let her go, then get on your horse and get out of here."
Duglas chuckled. "Aye, I'll be leaving, but this bonny lass is going with me."
"I can't let that happen, can I now?"
Duglas pressed his blade against her creamy throat. "Keep coming and the ground will run red with her blood."
Galen stopped.
Cinead made his way through the wood and was coming up behind them. With the stealth of a wolf, he leapt out of the underbrush, knocked the weapon from Duglas' hands, then quickly wrapped his massive arms around his shoulders.
Galen kicked the broadsword away, then lifted the lass from the ground and carried her in his arms to safety.
Cinead's muscles strained against his shirt as he tightened his hold.
Duglas gasped for air. "He's killing me; I can't breathe."
Galen grinned. "Cin, I believe the man has seen the error of his ways."
Cinead let him go.
He dropped to the ground, doubled over, holding his ribs and coughing.
Galen looked over at the guards. "Do with them as you see fit."
The guards gathered up the discarded weapons, grabbed the still gasping Duglas and bound his hands.
"Much thanks," the older guard said. "I feared greatly for m'lady's life, as well as our own."
"Glad we could be of help." He turned around to face the lady and her smile took his breath away. Galen swallowed hard. He'd never seen anyone as lovely.
"Much thanks," she said, her silky voice a bit quivery. "If he'd managed to get me into the wood, he would most surely have killed me."
Aye, more than likely, Galen thought, but not before the whoreson had his way with her. "You're most welcome, my lady. What is your name?"
"Lady Sorcha MacPherson."
Galen's mouth fell open. Nay, it couldn't be. "Any relation to Alexander MacPherson?"
She smiled. "Aye, I am at that. I'm his sister."
Galen grinned. It appeared that fate decided to intervene on his behalf.
Cinead's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He took Galen's arm and pulled him a few feet away. "I ken what you're thinking."
"Good. Then I'll not be needing to tell you, will I now?"
Cinead rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm going to speak with Duncan." He walked over to his friend, who leaned against an oak, keeping a close eye on the highwaymen sitting on the ground with their hands bound.
Galen walked over to where Sorcha waited beside her horse. "Before we go, we'll help your guards put those men on their horses."
She nodded and smiled again. Galen's chest tightened. "Without your help, and that of your friends, I do not wish to think about what the outcome might have been."
A twinge of guilt plucked at the back of his mind as he gazed into eyes the same color green as the sea, but he ignored it. He had no choice, he told himself. His priority was to secure his brother's release by any means necessary, and fate had tossed Sorcha into his path. He had to do right by his brother, no matter the cost. Galen had no intention of hurting her, so what he was about to do couldn't be so bad, could it? He left her and walked over to where Duncan and Cinead stood.
Duncan peered at him through narrowed eyes. "Are you certain you want to do this, Galen?"
Galen blew out a long breath. "Lady Sorcha is an excellent bargaining chip to force MacPherson to free Ewan," he said, keeping his voice low. "I'm not fond of taking her against her will any more than you are. But at the moment, 'tis the only option I have. I'll not endanger your lives, so I don't expect you to come along."
Cinead snorted. "There's no question of whether or not we'll be coming with you. You ken we will."
"Where are you planning to take her?" Duncan whispered.
"Ravenskull. "'Twill take time for her brother to figure out where she is. Moorloch will be the first place he'll look. I want him to ken that 'tis I who has the upper hand. It will be a simple trade. Once I have Ewan, he can have his sister."
The two men nodded in unison.
With the highwaymen securely bound to the horses, Galen moved over to where Sorcha waited beside her own mare, another smile on her beautiful face. "Lady Sorcha, I have something to say that will not be pleasing to you in the least."
Her smile slowly faded. "What is it?"
He sighed, then glanced over at Duncan and Cinead, making certain they were keeping a close eye on her guards. "You'll be coming with us."
The servant began to wail, and the guards moved toward him, but Cinead and Duncan stopped them.
Sorcha's mouth dropped open. "B-B-But why?" she stammered. "I thought you were an honorable man. Was I wrong?"
He couldn't look her in the eye—those exquisite green eyes, so full of expression. Instead, he stared at a spot on the trunk of a pine just over her shoulder. "Nay, you're not wrong, my lady. I am an honorable man. My name is Galen MacKinnon. Alexander MacPherson is holding my brother prisoner. He is but ten and six. I tried to talk some sense into your brother, offering him whatever payment he required, but he still refused to release the lad. Now that I have you to bargain with, he'll be changing his mind."
She glared at him for a moment, then slapped him soundly on the cheek.
Galen grabbed her wrist—then the other—before she could clout him again. "I ken I deserved that, lass, but it doesn't change a thing, so you may as well settle down."
The guard reached for his weapon, but Cinead had his broadsword in hand before the older man's had even cleared the scabbard.
Sorcha's eyes narrowed, then she kicked Galen in the shin before he could move out of the way.
"Och, stop that, lass," he said, releasing her wrists and dodging another kick.
"You miserable beast, I'll not be going anywhere with you," she screec
hed, then scrambled to get on her horse.
Galen caught her around the waist and pulled her off, then held her tightly against him to keep her still. He immediately realized his mistake. Her lush curves pressing against him sent flames of desire burning through him. He quickly let her go. "I'm sorry, lass, but you are coming with us."
He then turned to her guards. "Tell Laird MacPherson I'll be sending him a missive as to the arrangements. And tell him to treat my brother with care, for I promise no harm will come to Lady Sorcha."
He turned to the lady in question. "I promise you'll not be harmed and I'm a man of my word."
"That remains to be seen, does it not, MacKinnon?"She snapped.
He put his hands on his hips and sighed. The pretty little wildcat was trying his patience. "If you come with us willingly, your guards will live and your servant will not be left to find her own way back to Blackstone."
Sorcha studied him for a moment. "I'll go with you," she said, then turned around. "Angus, tell Laird MacPherson all that this man has said."
The older guard glared at Galen, then looked at Sorcha, concern for his lady clear in his expression. "Are ye certain, m'lady?"
"Aye, Angus, I'm certain. Now go."
"We'll make haste to Blackstone." Angus turned to Galen. "Ye'd best watch yer back, MacKinnon, for the laird and his garrison won't be far behind."
"I'll come with you, m'lady," the servant cried.
"Nay, Inna. Go with Angus and James. You must tell Alexander all that took place at Clifftower."
"As ye wish," Inna said, obviously relieved.
With the maid sobbing, the party of three continued on their way to Blackstone, while Duncan and Cinead kept an eye out, in case the guards decided to return and fight for their lady.
Galen's gaze dropped to her full lips—lips he longed to taste. He caught himself staring and brought his eyes up to meet hers. "Lady Sorcha, 'tis time to leave." He was surprised that she didn't put up a fight when he lifted her onto her horse, as he'd believed she would. Keeping a tight hold on her reins, he mounted and the four of them headed toward Ravenskull.
Sorcha stared at the broad shoulders of Galen MacKinnon. Why wasn't she afraid of him? She more than likely should be. But there was something in the way he looked at her that made her believe she could trust him. That he wasn't the type of man who would hurt a woman. 'Twas true, he exuded power, but there was something else about him. He had a sense of duty, and seemed to be a man of honor, but she'd been wrong before, hadn't she? God help her if she was wrong this time.
Through narrowed eyes, Galen scoured the surrounding countryside. When he turned to speak to his flaxen-haired friend, she studied his profile. A more handsome man she'd never seen, with green eyes that darkened when he'd pulled her against him. Her face heated as she remembered the warmth that spread through her body while pressed against his hard chest. She'd been embraced by men before, but hadn't felt what she had in the arms of this stranger.
After giving the situation a bit of thought, Sorcha decided that perhaps it would be best if no one knew where she was—for at least a while. That way, Archibald couldn't drag her back to marry him and force her to endure a life of pain and misery. She shivered. How she ever thought of him as handsome was beyond her comprehension.
Galen glanced back at her and their gazes held.
Sorcha's face heated and she quickly looked away.
He handed her reins to his friend, the one he'd called Duncan, and moved back to ride beside her. "My lady, I'm truly sorry. I don't expect you to believe me, but at the moment I feel I have no other choice."
She kept her gaze on the road. His apology seemed sincere, but how could she be certain? She hardly knew the man.
"I cannot help but wonder why your brother would have given you but two guards. If you were mine—my sister—you would have no less than a dozen guards escorting you. This stretch of road is infested with highwaymen. A dangerous enough place for a man, let alone a woman. I would've thought MacPherson, as well as your guards, would have known better."
Sorcha kept silent. She wasn't about to tell him the truth. After all, didn't he just kidnap her? He deserved no answer. Thankfully, he let the matter drop.
After riding in silence for some time, he looked up at the sky. "Gloaming will be upon us soon. We're not too far from Perth. We'll find a place there to stop for the night."
Sorcha was thankful she wouldn't have to sleep outdoors—and she was hungry. Her stomach had been growling for the past few hours, for she'd had naught but berries since leaving Clifftower.
Having traveled through the night and the better part of the day, she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Suddenly, they closed of their own accord and she felt herself falling. A strong hand caught her and gently pushed her upright.
When she opened her eyes, Galen's devastatingly handsome face was mere inches from her own. Sorcha held her breath.
"Lass, are you well?
"Aye, but it has been some time since I've slept. How long before we reach Perth?"
"A couple of hours, more or less," he said, watching her for a moment. "As exhausted as you appear to be, you'll never be able to ride that far without falling asleep again, and perhaps getting trampled beneath your horse."
Saints above! What was the man going on about?
"Halt!" he called out to his friends, who immediately stopped. Galen moved his horse closer, and his knee brushed against her thigh, sending a sliver of heat further up her leg.
He slid back on the horse and patted the spot in front of him. "Come here, lass, you'll be riding with me until we reach Perth."
"You're daft, if you think I'll do anything of the sort." She stifled another yawn. She didn't trust him—she trusted no man. And this one had just kidnapped her!
He frowned. "I can't allow anything to happen to you. I need you in good health to exchange for my brother. Besides, you can hardly keep your eyes open, can you now? Don't let foolish pride get you killed." He again patted the place in front of him.
She sighed. Perhaps the infernal man was right. Indeed she was exhausted. She moved toward him, steadying herself with his offered arm, while marveling at the play of stone-hard muscle beneath her hand. As Sorcha slipped her left leg over the saddle, Galen grasped her waist and lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather. She settled herself in front of him, drawing her cloak tightly about her.
He pulled her back against him. "Now you may rest, my lady, without fearing for your life."
She stiffened. Rest? Saints above! How was she supposed to do that? With him so near, and his intoxicating male scent surrounding her, there would be no rest.
Though Sorcha had known Galen but a short time, she could see how different he was from Archibald. Where Archibald was cruel and abusive, Galen was gentle, but as she'd already seen, a formidable warrior when provoked.
The steady motion of the horse, along with the comforting warmth of Galen's chest pressed against her back, made Sorcha drowsy. She allowed herself to close her eyes.
The lass had fallen asleep. Galen smiled, relishing the tantalizing feel of her relaxed against him. Several silky strands of hair escaped the concealment of her cloak, and Galen couldn't resist lifting them to his nose, and breathing in her alluring scent of roses.
Someone chuckled and he raised his head to find Duncan and Cinead grinning at him. "Galen," Cinead whispered. "Are you certain you didn't bring the lass along just because you're a wee bit smitten?"
"Shh," Galen whispered. "She'll hear you." Perhaps he was a wee bit smitten with the red-haired beauty, but he'd not let that stand in the way of him using her to gain his brother's freedom.
Sorcha had been asleep for some time when she moaned and shifted in his arms. She tilted her head back against his shoulder, and after a bit of squirming, once again lay still.
Galen allowed his gaze to leisurely travel over her face. Long lashes lay curled against rosy cheeks, with a dusting of light freckles. By the sa
ints above, she was lovely. Her full, pink lips were slightly parted, and he wanted naught more than to brush his own across them. A wave of desire washed over him and before he could stop himself, his mouth hovered dangerously close to hers.
She opened her eyes and their gazes locked.
Galen's breath caught in his throat. The lass had to be daft if she didn't ken how close he'd come to kissing her. Was she angry? Frightened? 'Twas hard to tell, since she didn't react at all, just sat upright, and fixed her eyes on the road.
He raked his fingers through his hair. What the devil was wrong with him? He had to get a hold of himself. He needed to focus on getting his brother back and not on the lass—no matter how tempted he was.
When Sorcha opened her eyes and found Galen's mouth so near, her heart jolted and pulse pounded. She'd been shocked at her bodies' reaction to his nearness. Even now she had a tingling in the pit of her stomach that almost made her giddy. A warning voice whispered in her head. Don't trust him! But he might be different. He's no different than the others.
Gloaming was at an end when they rode into the tiny village. After seeing to the welfare of their horses, they entered the tavern. The front room was packed with guests eating their evening meal.
A short, stout man with a ring of hair around his bald head wound his way across the room. "Do you seek food, or a room, or both, m'laird?"
Galen nodded. "Both, but we're in need of a private room in which to eat our meal."
The innkeeper's eyes sparkled with greed as Galen placed several coins in his outstretched palm. "Of course, of course. Please, follow me then."
Sorcha couldn't help noticing the lustful stares and not so discreet whispers directed at her as she passed through the crowded room. She felt uneasy and moved closer to Galen.
He'd also noticed, and grabbed her hand, keeping her close until the four of them were alone.
"Your food will arrive shortly, gentlemen, m'lady. How many rooms will be needed?"
"Two should be sufficient," Galen said, glancing at Sorcha.
Sorcha breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been afraid he'd ask for only one room and she'd have to spend the night without a speck of privacy.
