Page 65 of The Icy Highlander's Bride
"Ye made a laughingstock out of me at Gunn Castle. And ye keep laughing at me now."
"I am nae laughing, Me Laird."
Lana looked around her, searching for anything she could use to protect herself. If it came to it, she would do whatever it took to keep Skye safe. There was a bucket in the corner and a grooming brush, but neither looked promising.
"Let me take ye inside, Me Laird," she offered, changing tactics. If the man was feeling slighted, perhaps an audience with her husband would appease him. "Ye can speak to me husband. I'm sure he will tell ye that it was simply a mistake."
"I ken what yer husband will do." Laird Cullen spat on the ground, and she suppressed a shiver of revulsion. "He will take what isnae his. He will steal me wife right from under me nose."
The thought of being Laird Cullen's wife was even more horrifying now that Lana could see him for who he really was. She would never have agreed to marry him, and she knew Alexander would never have approved. One dinner with the man and everyone would have seen his true colors. But she couldn't say that to him. She knew it would only make him more furious.
"I ken that whoever catches yer fancy next will be the lucky one," Lana said. Skye's hand slip into hers as the girl pressed herself against Lana's skirts. "It is me who missed out, Me Laird."
Something softened in the man's eyes, and he stopped his slow approach.
"Ye arenae happy?" he asked. "Ye regret yer choice?"
"Aye," Lana lied, forcing sadness into her voice. "Clan Cullen is a worthy home for any woman. I am envious of the one who will claim ye."
"It is good of ye to say," he mumbled.
Lana began to walk forward, hoping her momentum would coax the drunken man to move with her. She tugged on Skye's hand a bit too hard, and slowly, all three of them began to walk out of the barn.
"Perhaps ye would like some water, Me Laird," Lana suggested, but she caught the scowl on his face. "Or some whiskey. I would be happy to fetch ye some."
She breathed easier as she guided Laird Cullen out the barn door. She felt less trapped, and her thoughts came more clearly now that she was outside. She caught sight of a stable boy in the distance and wondered if she should call out to him.
"Skye," Lana asked as she squinted her eyes against the harsh sunlight, "would ye run inside? Ye can tell yer faither we have a guest."
"Nay!" Laird Cullen cried, and he stepped closer, making her jump back. "Nay one is going anywhere."
"Me Laird," Lana said, her whole body beginning to shake, "if we could just step inside?—"
"Nay!" he screamed. "Ye arenae going to yer husband. Ye, lass, are coming with me."
Suddenly, Laird Cullen lunged forward, and his hand wrapped around her upper arm. Lana tried to pull away, but his grip was vice-like, his fingers painfully digging into her skin.
"Skye! Run!" She shoved the girl with her other hand, hoping the child would understand.
She watched Skye take off as Laird Cullen looked over with a sinister smile. He seemed remarkably unconcerned about the child's escape, but Lana soon understood why.
When Skye was a few feet ahead, a figure emerged from the woods.
"Did I forget to tell ye?" Laird Cullen sneered. "I brought a friend."
27
Skye screamed as she was lifted into the air by her grandfather.
"Good day, little one," Laird MacDougal said. "It's good to see ye again."
"Leave her alone!" Lana cried out.
She struggled against Laird Cullen, who had wrapped an arm around her waist. She tried to push against him, knowing how drunk he was. She could smell the alcohol seeping out of his pores. But even in this drunken state, he was strong.
He laughed, clearly enjoying himself. "Turns out Laird MacDougal and I have similar interests," he slurred.
"And what are those?" Lana snapped. "Kidnapping women?"
