Page 8 of The Runaway Bride and the Highlander
Bram strode over to Maxwell as he watched the men. His brother took him by the elbow and led him a little away from the others.
“I ken ye had tae do what ye did,” Bram said, “and I dinnae disagree with yer actions. But ye ken what ye’ve done, right?”
Standing there with his feet firmly planted and his arms crossed against his chest, Maxwell nodded. “Aye, I do.”
“Johnson will nae let this go. He already had enough reason tae go against us. Now, he’ll come at us even harder,” Bram replied.
“I ken. But what would ye have me do, stand there and watch that bastard…?” He trailed off.
“Nae, I wouldnae. If ye hadnae have gone, I’d had have gone on without ye. But I kent what ye were going tae do as soon as I saw them bringing her from the nunnery. Ye’re my brother, remember? I ken ye as well as I ken myself. Ye did what was right, Max. But yer actions will have consequences.”
“Then we’ll be ready. Colum has nae doubt run back tae Johnson tae tell him the news. I cannae see Johnson sitting back and letting us take her. She’s she’s important tae him for some reason.”
“She’s a fine lass,” Bram offered.
Maxwell shook his head fervently. “It’s more than that, and ye ken it.”
Bram nodded. “I ken. Nae one in their right mind would make such a fuss just for a fine-looking woman.”
“Exactly,” Maxwell said determinedly. “There’s something more about her, and I intend tae find out what.”
CHAPTERFIVE
After the barking instruction from the big scary one—Skylar had heard them call him Bram—the other men had not spoken to her. Yet, she could not miss the stolen glances toward her from beneath hooded eyelids as they packed up their camp. Bram, who was tall and broad with long blond hair, had a gruesome scar over his left eye. He also looked to be the laird’s right-hand man. Not only did he appear to take charge and give out orders to the others, but on more than one occasion, Skylar had seen Bram and the laird huddled together, engaged in low-toned discussions.
When they had first burst into the camp, screaming their battle cry, she had been both terrified and horrified. Though she had heard of many conflicts, she had never actually witnessed one. Nor had she seen a man slain. Watching swords clash and blood spurting from huge gashes of those who fought had nearly caused her to faint. Though she had hardly been able to tear her eyes away, the horror of it all had shaken her to the very core.
It was only when it was all over that her mind turned to the fact that her situation had hardly changed. She was still in danger, just threatened by a different group of men. Her attempt at escape had been thwarted, and only at the scary one’s words for the men to keep their distance from her had her mind been put at rest—at least for now.
“Tell me why Johnson is so determined tae have ye,” Laird Macleod said.
Skylar was riding on his horse with the Highlander sat snuggly behind her, so his plaid covered them both against the bitter wind of the night. It made her uncomfortable, being so close to a man in such a state of undress, but what choice did she have? For now, she was safe, but Skylar did not stop thinking of escape. If the opportunity arose, she would take it, for she did not know these men, nor did she trust them.
“I cannae tell you, for I simply dinnae ken,” she lied.
“I dinnae believe ye. Ye didnae look too surprised when Colum told ye Johnson was going tae make ye his wife.”
“Ye ken Colum?” Skylar asked, interested in knowing what the laird knew of him but changing the subject as well.
“That doesnae matter,” he said roughly. “Ye digress. A man like Johnson doesnae send an army halfway across Scotland for nae reason.”
“I have already told ye. I dinnae ken.”
“And I’ve told ye I dinnae believe ye,” he growled.
“What does it matter why he wants me?” Skylar retorted, starting to feel frustration rise within her at his persistence. “The man is cruel and evil and takes what he wants. He cares little about anyone who gets in his way.”
“I’m well aware,” the laird replied, a dark tone in his voice. “I dinnae need ye tae tell me what the man is like. What I desire tae ken is why he wants ye.”
Something had clearly happened between the laird and Johnson, and Skylar could not help but wonder what. By the vehemence in his tone, it had been nothing pleasant. After all, it usually wasn’t where Laird Johnson was concerned. The moment of curiosity passed, and her thoughts were drawn back to the subject at hand. She could not tell the laird what he desired to know. Her secret was too dangerous, and if the Highlander found out about it, it may cost him his life. Even telling him a small part of everything that had happened would not help, for Skylar doubted he would relent if he knew any more than he did now. The less he knew, the safer it would be for all of them.
His arms tightened around her, and she felt the strong core of his body press into the softness of her back. Like Bram, the laird was tall and strong with dark blond hair. Whereas Bram was clean-shaven, a full and thick beard covered Maxwell Macleod’s jawline, and though he was still a frightening man, there was a boyish beauty about him that made his features appear gentler.
“Ye are extremely stubborn for a nun,” he muttered.
His mouth was now close to her ear, and his warm breath tickled her cheek. It sent a shiver through her that felt strange, for at the same time, a warm sensation seemed to spread within the deepest parts of her.
“And ye are very nosey for a man I have only met,” Skylar retorted, desperately trying to ignore the reactions he was evoking.
