Page 30 of Kidnapped By her Highland Enemy
In response, Lucas pulled the belt from around his waist and looped it around hers. “I never calculated just how tiny ye are.”
She scowled. “And ye are a behemoth. I feel like a trussed chicken wearing this.”
“Aye, ye do,” he laughed, while tightening it. “But a bonnie one, no less.” He then fixed the tunic so it covered the belt and handed her a set of boots that were made of heavy tartan.
As she strapped them on, Lucas kneeled and pulled a sheathed dagger from his boot, spun it around to show her the Barclay seal in the hilt, then crouched and slid it into her boot, “I want ye take this. I ken ye daenae ken how to use it yet, but it’ll come in handy in any emergency.”
The leather felt cold against her ankle, but Maisie nodded, “Thank ye.”
They left the room and while Maisie felt she looked odd, the garments suited her better than a dress ever had, especially as he lifted her to his horse. Increasingly, she grew to respect Lucas—mayhap things would work after all.
By past midday, the lass was dozing off in his arms; her drying hair tickled his nose and the lavender scent made him smile. She was such a little thing, but he knew she had fire, passion, and heart.
Would she make a good wife?
He looked over to his right and saw a muscle jump in Oliver’s jaw; he knew his friend was worried about Eilidh getting backhome safely. “She is going to be all right, Oliver,” he said. “She should have gotten home by dusk yestereve.”
A grunt was his reply, “I ken that, sir, what is bothering me is that the bairn might be born by now.”
Ah. Oliver was missing the chance to hold his firstborn and name him, but Lucas was sure Eilidh knew what to name the lad or lassie when it was time. “I’m sorry about it,” he said. “But hold the faith, Oliver. Yer son will be there to welcome ye home when this deuced mission is over.”
Flashing Lucas a fleeting smile, Oliver said, “I ken it might be wise to sleep in the woodland tonight. I ken of a good inn a few miles away from the border of Mackenzie where we can get a good night’s rest on beds that daenae feel like they’re made from bricks. And the proprietress is discreet too.”
“Thank God for that,” he said while stirring his horse on. “I miss me bed.”
“Why did ye sleep in the lass’s room when we have our quarters above the stables?” Ian asked from behind them. “Was she in danger of runnin’ again?”
“Nay,” Lucas said, while glancing down at the girl resting on his chest. “I wanted to make sure the lass was safe. I havenae told ye this when I left, but I feared the other lass had arrived at the Hendry home and a spy had come quick enough to follow us.”
“I dinnae ken the lass would have arrived so quickly,” Ian said quietly behind them. “We left fast enough and the lass doesnae ken which route we took to the house. If anything, she might be arriving at her home about now.”
“Let’s pray that is the case,” Lucas grunted, before looking down at Maisie. “Otherwise, we might be in more trouble than we need.”
Clan Gunn
Night had fallen and while the rains had partially ceased, fog was creeping up the battlement of Gunn castle. A guard hefted his halberd and peered out into the murky dark as a few shadows shifted at the woodland beyond the dirt road that led up to the east buttress.
It was probably a wild animal or only the wind, but then the bushes parted and a body stumbled out of it, he grabbed his weapon in case. He nearly reached for his horn to sound an alarm, but when he saw it was a woman, tottering on her feet, he dropped it.
“Halt!” he shouted from atop the wall. “Come no closer.”
She looked up and the moonlight that fell over her face had his heart racing, just as a much as his feet. Dropping the halberd he descended the inner stairs as fast as possible and went to a sidegate, to unlatch the irons. Darting out, he grabbed Miss Heather just before she collapsed.
“Miss Cowie,” he said while gently lifting her. “I’m here, I’ll take ye inside.”
Two other guards rushed out, one taking a stance with his sword out and the other holding the gate aloft. “Take her inside,” the one with his weapon out said, “And get her to the healers.”
“Nay,” Heather croaked, “Nay, I must tell Laird Gunn where his daughter is. He needs to get her from those men before they kill her. Take—take me to him, now!”
11
“There?” Maisie gawked at Lucas. “Yer suggesting that we sleep inthere?”
“Unless ye want to sleep on dirt with a horse blanket,” Lucas nodded. “Aye.”
Looking at the rickety old shack that was sagging one side, she said, “A strong wind will blow it down and bury us inside.”
The shack certainly appeared abandoned, weather-beaten and derelict, stones were missing from the walls, and it had a thatched roof—in places. God forbid that it rained that night.
