Page 4 of The Beast of the Highlands
“I’m guessin’ yer family wouldnae take kindly to the notion of their precious lass goin’ to work for a Scot, eh?” he said, at last. “Ye slipped out under cover of darkness, took yer horse, and off ye went afore they could argue. Is that what happened?”
Autumn nodded. “Mostly, yes. I, on the other hand, have no qualms about working for a Scot. Our nations may not always see eye-to-eye, but your people have never affected me personally, and I daresay I have never affected you personally.”
Aside from my brother, perhaps.
Orwell had certainly fought his fair share of Scottish soldiers, though she felt it prudent to keep that to herself. Although, she was quite certain that Orwell did notlikefighting Scottish soldiers. He did not like fighting anyone, but he had no choice but to do as he was commanded, especially now that he was a Captain.
Flynn snorted. “I’ve holes in me castle walls and graves in me kirkyard that’d beg to differ.”
“I meant the singular “I,” that is usually inferred when someone says “I”. I cannot be held responsible for the actions of others, just as you cannot,” she grumbled before she could stop herself.
Fortunately, it elicited a wry smirk from Flynn, which seemed to light up his dark eyes. “How far from home are ye?”
“Several hours. I reside close to Bamburgh, if you know of it?” she replied, unable to gauge his reaction to her. Was he amused, or was he merely trying to decide how he ought to send her back from whence she came?
He nodded. “Aye, I ken it.” He turned to the soldier who had hold of Seashell. “Tie that mount to yers, Hendricks. She can ride back with me.”
“Pardon?” Autumn gaped at him in shock. “I do not think that would be very appropriate, Laird MacLennan. I have a perfectly good horse, and perfectly good legs with which to ride said horse.”
His smirk returned. “Aye, but those legs are goin’ to be shaky and weak, and I daenae want ye tumblin’ off like ye did back there.”
“If you saw that, then why did you allow those beasts to crowd around me, and let me fear I was going to be… I will not say what!” Outrage flooded her, preventing her from maintaining any air of politeness.
He looked startled for a moment. “I dinnae see it, lass. I dinnae need to. I amnae daft, lass. Ye said yer horse was skittish, and since ye’re nae sat astride it nay more, I guessed ye’d fallen off when it reared at the musket shot.”
“Oh…” Heat pulsated in her cheeks.
“And ye keep wincin’, and yer arms are covered in scrapes and scratches, so it’s obvious ye’ve hurt yerself,” he added pointedly. “If ye daenae want me help, all ye have to do is say, and I can send ye back to Bamburgh.”
Should I?
Autumn shook her head apologetically. “No, thank you. I… um… misspoke.”
“Ye misjudged, ye mean.” He clicked his tongue. “Ye wouldnae be the first Sassenach to do that, and ye willnae be the last.”
She flinched with embarrassment. “I am not making a particularly impressive first impression, am I? If I may, I would like to blame the shock of everything that is happened. My tongue, unlike my horse, appears to be woefully unbridled.”
“Och, I havenae made a proper opinion of ye yet.” A soft laugh escaped his throat, washing over her like a warm embrace. “But ye’ve wit, and I can see merit in that.”
Gently, he pulled her to her feet, where she finally got a measure of his formidable height and breadth. His shoulders were twice as wide as her, and though she was tall for her sex, she had to crane her neck to look up at him, standing a good head or two taller than her. And through his shirt, dampened by the snowfall, she could see the defined lines of a broad, sculpted chest that inspired a feeling of protection within her.
Taking her by the arm, he led her toward an enormous warhorse, with a hide as white as Laird MacLennan’s hair was black. There, he grasped her about the waist and hoisted her up onto the saddle, where she swung her leg over instinctively.
“I thought ye Sassenach lasses did that thing with yer legs crossed?” he remarked.
Autumn raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didnotwant me tumbling off?”
Still chuckling lightly, as his soldiers snorted in amusement, Flynn pulled himself up into the saddle and positioned himself behind her. She stiffened at his closeness, for she had never been in such intimate proximity with a strange man before.
Indeed, there was no distance between them whatsoever, as he turned his horse around and led it through the gap in the hedgerow, back onto the road. Against her spine, she could feel every ridge of a hardened, muscular abdomen, and the strength of his powerful arms as they encircled her, keeping her within their safety. Meanwhile, thick, solid thighs provided support for her own slender ones.
However, she noticed as he shuffled back slightly, to prevent what rested between his thighs from pushing against the swell of her buttocks. It was a small gesture, but one she appreciated after what she had just endured. For that was not something she ever wanted to imagine, knowing what might have been done to her.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He smiled. “So, ye daenae think me to be a beast, then?”
“I have not made a proper opinion of you yet,” she replied, in jest.
