Page 80 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

Ava did not hesitate but hurried to the window to join them, already kilting up her skirts “Aye, I’m comin’,” she declared, shooting Arne a bright smile.

“Then let’s go,” Arne said, testing the rope, confident it would bear their weight. He clambered out of the window and slithered his way rapidly down the ivy to the ground. Shouts and the clash of metal on metal echoed from nearby. It sounded as though the diversion had turned into a fight.

He stood beneath the window, watching anxiously as Raven climbed out, caught hold of the rope and lowered herself down, hand over hand. He caught her waist as soon as she was close enough. Then they waited for Ava to climb down and join them.

Once they were all on solid ground, he led the girls down to the beach. Arne emerged first, stopping dead in his tracks, his heart dropping as he shielded Raven and Ava with his body from what awaited them on the sand.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“MacLeod. I thought ye’d turn up sooner or later,” said a tall, stocky, dark-haired man in a mocking tone, staring menacingly at Arne from a few yards away. The Laird of Barra appeared hard-faced, powerful, and determined. His harsh voice rose above the crash of the waves and the din of fighting coming from somewhere further away. He had his sword out, and so did the four or five men behind him.

“’Tis kind of ye tae bring a welcomin’ party,” Arne replied, waving the girls back with one arm whilst unsheathing his own weapon with the other. “I dinnae think we’re acquainted. Would ye mind introducin’ yersel’, just so I can be sure who I’m speakin’ tae.”

The man’s eyes darkened. “I’m Struan MacDonald, and ye’re on me lands, uninvited. And I see ye have somethin’ that belongs tae me,” He glanced behind Arne’s shoulder meaningfully, obviously looking at Raven.

“Ach, I’ve heard yer name. Ye’re the man that likes tae beat up defenseless women, are ye nae?”

MacDonald’s dark brow knitted, and Arne could clearly see he did not like the question.

“If ye’re referrin’ tae me useless wife, the wee whore deserves everythin’ she gets,” MacDonald sneered.

Arne felt a powerful urge to tear the man limb from limb with his bare hands, but he held his peace, waiting for his moment. He had vowed to kill MacDonald, and he did not want to miss his chance by being rash.

“Is that so? And what d’ye think a man who beats women and threatens the life of bairns deserves?” He did not wait for, nor expect, an answer but carried on, “Because in me book, a man like that is nae a man at all, but a cowardly dog that needs a good beatin’ before he’s strung up. Killin’ him with sword seems almost too good fer scum like that.”

He kept his eyes on McDonald, watching as his cheeks turned red with fury. “Dinnae fear, Raven,” Arne called behind him. “I’ll have ye out of here in a wee minute, once I’ve dealt with this… individual.” He spat in the sand, making sure the gobbet of saliva landed on MacDonald’s boot, and glared at him with all the hate he had stored up for him in his heart.

MacDonald took a step closer to him and snarled, “Ye bastard, ye think ye’re better than me, dae ye, because ye’re soft on that wee bitch and gave her a bairn?”

“That’s one more bairn than ye’ve given her in six years,” Arne pointed out, intending to provoke the man beyond reason. That way, he would make mistakes. So, he carried on insulting him. “Och, sorry, I got me calculations wrong there. She left ye fer two years, did she nae, because she couldnae stand ye?

“And that was just the first time, before ye hunted her down and dragged her back tae this dump again. Still, four years should be enough fer any man with some decent seed in him tae give a lassie a bairn.”

The men behind MacDonald were growing restive, clearly wanting to be unleashed upon Arne to defend their master’s honor. Surprisingly, MacDonald waved them back.

“Och, I see ye have some pride at least,” Arne added provokingly. “I had ye pegged as the type who would get another man tae dae his fightin’ and his dyin’ fer him.”

“Ye think ye can kill me, MacLeod?” MacDonald shouted, growing visibly more furious by the moment.

“Well, now that ye mention it, it had crossed me mind. And when I saw the two blackeyes ye’ve given’ Raven, I pretty much decided I’d take on the job on her behalf. But now I’ve met ye, I’ll be honest, I’ll be doin’ it fer mesel’, just out of the sheer enjoyment of runnin’ ye through.”

“Then come on, ye bastard!” MacDonald ground out, charging at Arne with his sword held high, the better to stab downward.

“With pleasure,” Arne shouted, going to meet him. They clashed with a mighty roar, their blades ringing as they met and engaged in a deadly dance across the sand, thrusting with their swords, then parrying each other’s blows. Arne had to admit MacDonald was a tough and seasoned fighter and certainly no push over.

Arne turned things up a notch, allowing the energy from his love for Raven and hatred for MacDonald to flow through him, giving him strength and speed.

He fought ferociously, deflecting his enemy’s sword blows deftly with his own and raining down blows upon MacDonald, making him work, tiring him out, seeking that momentary lapse in concentration that would mean his foe’s death.

But just as he began to see the signs that he was gaining the upper hand, MacDonald shouted to his men, “Get the woman!”

Dread filled Arne as two of the men ran in a wide circle around him and MacDonald and up the rocky hillside where the two women were hiding, no doubt terrified.

Sensing his foe’s intention, he stepped up his assault on MacDonald, more determined to defeat the man. Then suddenly, a piercing scream ripped through the night, and into Arne’s soul. His blood ran cold because he knew the scream had come from Raven.

The next moment she appeared on the beach, being dragged by the two soldiers. The sight of her seemed to invigorate MacDonald, who stepped up his attack on Arne to prevent him from reaching Raven. But even as he bore down hard upon his foe, the men thrust Raven at their laird, who darted backwards and grabbed her by the neck. In seconds he was holding his blade to her throat.

“Give up, or I’ll slit her throat from ear tae ear,” MacDonald yelled, an evil grin of triumph appearing on his face. He lifted Raven up by the throat, so her feet kicked helplessly in midair.

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