Claimed By The Highlander (The Highlands Warring Clan Mactaggarts Book 1)

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Claimed By The Highlander (The Highlands Warring Clan Mactaggarts Book 1) Page 10

by Anne Morrison


  And then she had looked him in the eye and lied to him.

  The rage that had come up at that realization startled him, and if he were going to be honest about it, nearly frightened him. He had given her the opportunity to tell him the truth, and in the bluntest way possible, she had declined.

  Why was he surprised? She had hired him to do a job, and after that, what was between them?

  Reade told himself he didn't care. Of course, he didn't care. He would do his job, and then he would return home where he could be only himself. So, why then, did he feel cold when he thought about being at home without Elizabeth?

  He shoved the thoughts away because they were not going to serve him today. Today he had to get them both on the road north.

  The inn was more crowded than it was the night before, and he stiffened when he heard some of the voices in the common room.

  English. What are the English doing here?

  Scotland and England were currently at truce, with a peace being negotiated by Robert the Bruce and Edward of England. That meant that there were plenty of soldiers on both sides wandering the land, especially in this territory, which had been raked over more than once and tugged back and forth during the fighting.

  These didn't look like soldiers on leave, however. He saw how their weapons were in good condition, and how grim-faced they were, how tense the innkeeper was, and how the girls who had waited the tables so cheekily the night before were standing stiffly behind the bar. There was something serious and intent about them, and that was before he saw that their shields had been freshly painted black, every one.

  That's too fresh to have been done during the last of the fighting. I can see glints of silver through it, so they're not mercenaries who have been at this for some time.

  Reade didn't know what their mission was, but he knew it was trouble for someone. He was just grateful that it wasn't trouble for him today, because it had been in the past.

  He wasn't like Aidan, who was big enough to draw a speculative and wary eye wherever he went. Reade felt comfortable enough to sidle up to the bar as the men were getting ready to leave, giving them plenty of space as he made his way to the innkeeper's side.

  One of the men scowled at him and stepped closer. For a moment, Reade thought there would be trouble, but then he realized that the man was only taking his arm, not reaching for a weapon.

  “Here, we're looking for a girl.”

  “And you think that's me? Are all the English as blind as you?”

  The man's eyes darkened, but he only scowled at Reade.

  “None of your smart mouth, now. We're men on an urgent mission. The Earl of Sussex's niece has been kidnapped from his keep in Ayr. She's a fair-haired girl of nineteen, small and blue-eyed, name of Elizabeth Kendall. The earl wants her home right quick, and there's a reward for information leading to her return.”

  “How big's the reward?” asked Reade, unable to help himself.

  “Fifty pounds sterling, and that offered without question if it leads to him finding the girl again.”

  Reade felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise when he realized how much money that was. There were pieces coming together on the table, but it was still forming a picture that did not make any sense at all.

  “Why's he want her back so badly? Did she light out with the household silver?”

  The English soldier scowled.

  “If you don't have anything to offer, get on with you. We've no time for that, and this is the earl's niece. Keep your filthy tongue to yourself.”

  Reade shrugged and moved away, but his head was still spinning. Elizabeth, an earl's niece? It sounded as if the lies that she had been telling were a little larger than even he had suspected. Then he remembered that she was on her way down to the main room, and he spun on his heel to meet her instead. It sounded as if there were about a thousand things the two of them needed to make clear, but none of it was going to be made better if she ran into the band of English soldiers in the inn.

  Just stay upstairs for a little while longer, Elizabeth. Just a little while longer.

  Whatever luck Reade had, however, it seemed as if he had spent it all. Before he was halfway across the hall, Elizabeth came down the rickety stairs, patting her golden hair that she had twisted up into braids that crowned her head. She might have still gotten away with it if she had kept on to the bar, acting as if nothing was amiss, but she froze as she stepped onto the floor, her blue eyes going wide and frightened.

  In that moment, Reade was acting on pure instinct. There were any number of things he could have done. He could have made a joke about how much his wife looked like the girl they were searching for. He could have tried to make a distraction, directing their gazes away from her. He might even have stood back and let whatever was going to happen, happen.

  The truth was, Reade realized, as time seemed to slow, that there was only one thing he could have done. He moved fast enough that he was by her side before the men were even done figuring out what was happening, and in the next movement, he had her in his arms.

  “Reade, what's going on?”

  “Come on. Back up the stairs, right now!”

  To Reade's relief, she didn't fight him, and she turned and raced up the stairs, Reade on her heels. Behind him, he could hear the shouts of the English soldiers as they realized the game was up and came thundering after them.

  They made it back to their room just a few paces ahead of the men, and Reade threw the latch and then barred it for good measure.

  “I'm beginning to think that we are always going to have terrible luck with inns,” Reade said, but Elizabeth was as pale as a bone.

  “They're here for me. They're going to take me back...”

  A thousand questions echoed through Reade's mind, starting with who she was really and what on earth she was doing running away, but none of that was important at the moment.

  “Do you want to go with them?”

  “What?”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders, just barely stopping himself from shaking her. She felt so small and delicate that all he wanted to do was to embrace her, but there was certainly no time for that.

  “Tell me, Elizabeth. Those men down there want to take you home. Do you want to go with them?”

  “No!”

  “Well, that's all I need to know.”

  Reade stepped back to the only window in the room, throwing it open so hard that one hinge came out from the wall.

  Well, if I ever come back this way, I can offer to fix it.

  Elizabeth was just beginning to voice a protest when Reade scooped her up in his arms.

  “Go for the stable. I am going to be right behind you.”

  “Reade...”

  Behind him, men were thumping on the door, and in another few moments, he knew they were going to come through it. Despite that, Reade couldn't stop himself from planting a quick and wild kiss on Elizabeth's lips. Whether it was happening in this very moment or when he had learned of the men looking for her, or even sometime long before that, he had resolved to help her, and that wasn't going to change.

  “Go,” he said, giving her a push out the window, and then he turned to face the men coming through the door.

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  chapter 20

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  For one split second, Elizabeth thought that Reade was going to kill her instead of handing her over to her uncle's men. Terribly enough, a part of her was somehow comfortable with that. Perhaps a death from falling out a window would be better than what her uncle had planned for her.

  There was one terrifying moment of free fall, and then she was landing in a hay rack piled high with old hay. It was musty, moldy, and somehow a little slimy as well, but though her breath was knocked from her body, Elizabeth realized she was safe.

  Above her, she could hear the sounds of battle being joined, and she thought with dismay of how many men had been downstairs, and ho
w alone Reade was.

  She remembered his words, and fighting her way out of the hay rack, she ran to the stables. Finnian was awake and curious to see if she had any oats for him, but instead, she dragged him out of the stable by his bridle, catching hold of his reins but leaving the rest. There was thankfully a mounting block that got her up on his back, and for the first time, she didn't care at all how much of her legs were revealed when she mounted up.

  Somehow, she urged the horse into the yard just in time to see Reade's form come plummeting down from the window into the hay rack.

  Oh, heaven above, is that how far I fell? No wonder I got the breath knocked out of me!

  "Reade!"

  Men poured out of the front of the inn, and a cold voice in the back of her head told her that she had to get away. Reade was fine, or he wouldn't be, but those men didn't care about him. They wanted her, and Elizabeth knew that under no circumstances would she allow herself to be returned to her uncle.

  "Come on, Reade," she muttered. "Come on..."

  Just as she was beginning to think that he had been knocked unconscious in the hay somehow, he popped out of the mess, covered in hay, and gracefully leaped to the ground. He saw her, and to her surprise, he grinned, a mad and lively thing, before he ran for her.

  There was a shout behind him, and though Reade didn't turn, Elizabeth could see past him to the English soldiers who were coming out of the inn, their swords drawn. She shouted a warning just in time for him to turn and fend one off.

  "Get out of our way, scum! We want the girl!"

  "You're not getting her, in this life or the next," Reade snarled.

  With a prayer on her lips, Elizabeth urged Finnian closer. If she could just get Reade on Finnian, if they could only get away...

  She was almost upon Reade when a stray sword blow came through his guard. She saw in vivid detail how the sword sank into his shoulder with a stabbing motion rather than a slash, and it seemed as if her world went still when he roared with pain and lashed out.

  Then the sword and its bearer were struck down, and Reade was leaping up on Finnian behind her back.

  "Oh, well done, Elizabeth..." he murmured, and she felt one arm wrap around her waist from behind while the other swung his sword.

  Whatever the English soldiers were expecting, it was not for the maddened Highland warrior to urge his horse into their midst, swinging his sword as if he could never die and roaring at them to fight him.

  They scattered back, and Elizabeth knew it probably wouldn't have lasted long at all, but it gave them the break that they needed.

  The loosened knot of men let them break through, and with his knees, Reade urged Finnian into a fast gallop out into the woods nearby.

  "I'm sorry, I couldn't get the reins..."

  "It doesn't matter, you did very well indeed, lass."

  Elizabeth had been frightened by Reade's wild battle lust before, but she was almost grateful for it now. If he had that breathless laugh in his voice, if his arm around her was tight, surely that meant he couldn't be so badly hurt?

  He pushed them away from the road, higher up the mountains and into the dark forests that lay beyond the cultivated land. Elizabeth shivered, but slowly, oh so painfully slowly, she heard the sounds of pursuit behind them die down. Then there was only the cold air and the occasional shriek of a bird, the chitter of a squirrel, and Reade's breathing behind her ear.

  It was only when she relaxed a little that she realized that her shoulder where it pressed back against Reade's body was soaked and sticky with blood, and at the same time, she realized how heavily he slumped against her.

  "Reade!"

  "Hush, lass. Just a little longer. I know you're tired..."

  Reade's words should have comforted her, but there was a slurring to them that panicked her, that made her bite her lip hard.

  "Reade, we can rest, they're long behind us."

  "Just a little longer."

  She swallowed hard, because she trusted him, but as the minutes turned to hours, her panic only rose, turning into a hard stone in her throat.

  The sun had gone down entirely, and the shadows in the woods were very long when Finnian came to a halt, tossing his head and snorting slightly. For a moment, Elizabeth was relieved, but then she realized that the horse had simply stopped because Reade was no longer urging him on.

  "Reade, what's the matter, what are you—?"

  Elizabeth's words ended up in a yelp as she felt Reade slip behind her. She turned and only barely managed to stop herself and Reade from tumbling off the horse together. Instead, she managed to slow his descent, and he tumbled gently to the ground instead of falling like a load of bricks. For a single terrible moment, she thought he was dead, but then she saw him roll over on one side. There was so much dried blood on his shoulder that it was impossible to tell how bad it was.

  He reached out a hand.

  "I saw you kept the reins. Come on. I'll show you... how to use them to hobble Finnian..."

  The last thing that Elizabeth wanted to do in that moment was to see to the horse, but she bit her lip and did as he said. Only then did he allow her to pull him to his feet, walking toward a small structure hidden in a stand of trees.

  At first glance, it looked like a pile of fallen branches and leaves, but to Elizabeth's surprise, there was a flimsy door that swung open.

  "What in the world...?"

  Reade grinned at her wearily.

  "Deer blind. Hunters sometimes travel far afield in this part of the world, and it's a place to camp while searching out game. That probably means that there's water here, too..."

  "Reade, how badly are you hurt?"

  "Don't know. Let's find out."

  He reached for his cloak and smiled a little as Elizabeth reached for it as well. Together, they pulled the thick fabric away from his body to reveal the white shirt underneath, which was in even worse shape. Elizabeth tried to work gently, but she could still feel the tension in Reade's body, and the cry he caught between his teeth when it was pulled away. The wound had half-closed while they were riding, and now it pulled open again, putting bright red with the dull.

  "Water."

  To Elizabeth's surprise, she had spoken first.

  "You said there was water near here?"

  "Yes..."

  "I'm going to bring some back. You need it..."

  An ancient water skin hung by the door of the little hut. She only prayed that it was sound, and that the small hearth under the hole in the wall at the rear of the hut was sound as well.

  It seemed to take forever to find the stream nearby, and when she returned with the dripping water skin, Reade was stretched out on the ground, his breathing low and ragged.

  Biting her lip so hard she was surprised her teeth didn't go through it, Elizabeth cleaned the wound, bandaged it with strips torn from the bottom of her shift, and then built a fire in the hearth. Reade had miraculously kept his own bag, and they weren't bereft of supplies, but it was a near thing.

  "Why did you do that?" she found herself asking. "Why did you save me?"

  For a long moment, she thought that Reade was asleep or unconscious, but his answer, when it came, was no more enlightening.

  "Why, because you're Elizabeth."

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  chapter 21

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  Reade couldn't remember closing his eyes, but when he opened them, a fire crackled on the primitive hearth, and he had been wrapped in a thin blanket.

  He felt as if he had been dragged behind a horse for an uphill mile, and for a moment, all he wanted to do was to bury his head in his arms and return to sleep. Then his memories returned of where he was and what had happened, and he sat bolt upright.

  The stab of pain his shoulder reminded him why that was such a terrible idea, and a hand against his good shoulder pushed him back to the thin straw mattress.

  "Elizabeth, what...?"

  "Hush. Here. You
can have this while it's still hot."

  Elizabeth pressed the tin cup from his bag into his hand, something steaming inside it, and he took a cautious sip. It was hot and salty, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

  "It's not really good," she muttered. "I took some of the dried meat you had and soaked it in the water. I didn't eat the meat, I wanted you to have that, too, but I set it aside..."

  "You didn't need to do that. I'm hurt, not a toothless old man."

  This time, he caught the faint look of shame that crossed her face, and he knew that if he had actually been paying attention before, he would have caught it several more times in the past few days.

  "This is all you know how to do, isn't it?"

  "If you'll tell me what to do, I'll do it."

  "Ah, lass, don't look so worried. It'll break my heart. But you really don't know how to make fires and scrub floors, do you?"

  "I can learn," she said, lifting her chin, and even that was beginning to make sense. A maid, especially a Lowland girl, would never be so bold. The niece of an earl, however, was another matter.

  Reade took another sip of the weak broth she had made for him, and then patted the straw mattress.

  "Will you come here and sit with me?"

  She regarded him warily.

  "How angry are you with me?"

  "Some," Reade admitted. "Not as much as you might fear, and by all the saints, at this point, you should know that I'd never hurt you, not for all the gold in Constantinople."

  His promise won a small smile from her lips, and with a soft sigh, she came to sit next to him. Elizabeth settled against his body still felt like the most perfect thing in the world, and Reade took a moment to enjoy it before he said,

  "You're no maid with a bad master. You're not even a thief, like I thought you were when I saw those jewels."

  She stared up at him, her face made gaunt by the slow shadows from the fire.

 

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