Page 2 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
Evelina tucked Amelie’s head into the crook of her chin, while she was being carted into the inner courtyard. Colin was down on one knee, his left hand clutching at his bloody right arm, while his sword lay shattered on the ground.
“Nay!” Colin made to get up but one of the raiders kicked his leg from under him.
“Colin!” Evelina shrieked in distress.
Then, a broad, rough hand circled her neck and held tight. Wicked, and ruthless black eyes bored into hers and a heartless grin stretched the black-bearded face of Laird Selvach. “Ye little wench. Did ye think ye would get away from me? That I wouldnae find ye?”
Swallowing tightly, Evelina shielded Amelie’s face with her hand, “It’s three years, why not leave me be?”
“Because,” he leaned, pure evil glinted in the depths of his gaze, “I daenae let anythin’ I consider mine get away. And ye were mine....” His eyes dipped to the almost three-year-old child in her arms. “But then ye ruined yerself with that bag o’ filth over there. And now, ye will pay for it.”
Before he could rip Amelie from her, Evelina stuck out, raking her nails over his eyes with one hand and when he stumbled, she took off, sprinting back into the castle, frantic for help.
“Me Lady!” Beatris, Evelina’s nursemaid ran to her, with terror plastered over her face.
Shoving Amelie into her arms, Evelina ordered, “Take her and run, run as fast as ye can.”
“Me Lady—”
“Go!” Evelina ordered, “take the tunnels and run!”
The maid ran out of the room just as Laird Selvach came into the room and grabbed her arms, sinking his fingers into her skin and scratching her with his ragged nails. A trickle of blood was on his brow and had dripped into his beard, while utter rage was on his face.
“Ye will pay for that, harlot,” his tone was cold and barbaric. “I promise ye.”
At least Amelie was safe.
“Do your worst.” Evelina tucked her chin up with defiance.
“I plan to,” Selvach yanked her back out to the courtyard where Colin was now being held up by two men, both of his arms trapped behind his body.
Evelina met her husband’s gaze and read fear, sorrow and atonement; she knew he hated himself now, hated that he could not deliver on his promise to keep her and their daughter safe.
“She’s safe, Colin,” Evelina called out while Selvach wrapped an arm around her shoulder and placed a knife at her throat. “She’s safe.”
And then—darkness.
1
Cawdor Castle
Nairnshire, Scotland
June 1701
In his dark clothes and crouched on a battlement, Damian Glogow’s sharp blue eyes traced the shadowed grounds below, waiting for the guards to finish their patrols and disappear round the corner so he could shimmy down the wall, and get away.
The skilled thief had not planned to stay so long in Cawdor Castle, but the lure of more jewels and gold had been too difficult to ignore. His pockets were filled with coins, and in the sack thrown over his shoulder were a pair of silver candlestick that would bring him a tidy sum when melted.
He had made it to the battlement of the eastside of the ancient house and had a clear sight of where he would run to through the forest beyond. His gloved hands clenched the wall as he prayed for the bloody guards to move along before someone discovered the missing items and an alarm was raised.
The smell of rain was in the air and he wanted to get away before the storm came and doused him like a drowned rat. When the guards finally stopped chatting and went in, he swung his body over the railing and expertly dropped to a windowsill, from there he dropped to another and then, finally, landed on the ground.
Hugging the shadows, Damian made it through the courtyard and darted over to the wide lands to dash under the cover of the forest. He ran nearly a mile through the dark bush until he came across the horse that he had left tied in a part of the dense woodland that was sparsely travelled.
“Morag, be a good boy and ride us out here, swiftly now,” Damian said while untying and coaxing his horse out into a wide space. He mounted the stallion and directed him out of the wood.
It was past midnight, but the time did not matter to Damian. He worked solely under the cover of darkness and only went out in day to pawn his goods.
