Page 107 of A Wife for the Highland Villain
She didn’t know if he was able to go through them that quickly because all they had were bricks or because he was that masterful in the art of fighting.
A man ran up behind him, and she tried to warn him, but Conall saw him coming. He turned just in time to strike him down.
Lily pulled her head back into the carriage and pressed her palm to her seat, trying to steady herself. “Clara’s bairn is due any moment now. We cannae afford delays like this.”
Brigid’s face flushed. “Delays? Is that what ye call this? Yer life is in danger, and ye call it a delay?”
Before Lily could respond, a shadow fell over them.
Brigid’s eyes widened at whatever stood behind her sister, but before she could scream, a rough hand snatched Lily’s hair and pulled her backward. Pain shot across her scalp, and she groaned.
Brigid screamed as loud as she could.
Lily thrashed, clawing at the man’s wrist. When she realized that wouldn’t work, she raised her right foot and, with all the force in her, slammed it into his chest. He stumbled backward, bending over.
Lily swallowed and bit her lip to suppress a shudder. The man didn’t go down. Instead, he looked up at her and lunged forward again. The rage in his eyes could have set her on fire.
“Yer time in this clan is over, Lady MacRay,” he snarled.
What?
His voice was hoarse and thick with hatred. “So is yer time on this earth.”
Lily tried to force steel into her voice. “Take one step closer, and ye’ll regret it for the rest of yer miserable life.”
The man sneered and yanked a dagger from his belt. “And what will ye do, witch? Use yer dark powers to smite me? Poison us like ye poisoned the men at the feast?”
“I didnae poison anyone.”
“Tell that to God when ye meet him.”
Lily’s gaze darted to Conall. He was still locked in combat, his back turned to them, too far to reach them in time.
The man reached forward and seized her arm, twisting hard. “Let’s see what ye’re truly capable of, Lady Witch.”
She kicked again, but this time he barely flinched. His grip was iron-tight, and his breath was foul.
Lily was still struggling, trying to yank herself free, when a sickening crack sounded out of nowhere. She looked up at the man. A rock had hit his forehead.
A gasp escaped her lips at the sight. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he toppled sideways, collapsing onto the carriage floor with a dull thud.
Lily turned to Brigid, who stood with both hands raised in the air.
“Ye’re welcome,” Brigid said, her voice still shaky but the pride in it unmistakable.
“Where in God’s name did ye learn to throw like that?” Lily asked, panting.
Brigid’s chest heaved, but her lips curled into a grin. “Ye learn a few things when ye marry Laird MacKane.”
The unconscious man groaned faintly, blood trickling down his brow, and Lily pushed him away. He fell right onto the path, landing on a bed of grass.
The carriage door flew open, and Conall clambered back inside, his sword streaked with blood. “We daenae have time. I struck down a few, but more are coming.”
Brigid clutched his arm. “Are ye hurt?”
“Nay. But we must move now.” He signaled to the driver, who flicked the reins.
The horses lurched, and the carriage rattled forward again.
