Page 48 of Claimed by the Clan Chief

“Aye, of course, sir.” The man rushed to Isla, stumbling as he crossed the stacked branches and twigs then set about releasing the rope at her wrists.

Impatience thrummed inside her. She needed to get off the wood. She needed to get the hell out of this evil village.

Suddenly freedom was hers. She rushed from the pyre, falling at the last second but finding thick strong arms around her.

“My love,” McTavish said against her ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“You came for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you, and I ken now not to let you out of my sight again.”

“I’m so sorry.” She looked up at him, knowing she was a dirty mess and hoping he didn’t care too much.

“We’ll save this conversation for later.” He touched his lips to the tip of her nose. “Right now we need to get out of this hell hole.”

He turned and clicked his fingers. His horse lifted its head from where it had been enjoying grass despite the drama, and stepped up to him.

The next thing Isla knew she’d been lifted into the saddle. She gripped the horse’s soft mane and released a juddering breath.

McTavish walked up to Rabbie. He set his boot at the fallen man’s side and shoved.

Rabbie tipped over, his knees bent and his clothing now red stained. “Real men don’t hurt women,” McTavish said. “They treasure them, appreciate their beauty and wisdom. Real men ken the women in their lives are gifts.”

Rabbie didn’t answer, instead he screwed up his eyes and moaned.

“You won’t forget me, will ye?” McTavish said. “Every time you look at your ugly stump you’ll see my face.”

“Bastard,” Rabbie muttered.

“What did you say?” McTavish leaned closer to him.

“I said you’re a bastard.”

“Be careful,” McTavish put his hand on his sword handle. “I could take off your other arm, and your legs too for that matter.”

“McTavish,” Isla called. “’Tis lesson enough.”

McTavish stared down at Rabbie. He flexed his fingers then wrapped them around the handle again. He rocked backward then forward on his heels.

She knew he was battling within himself. He wanted to kill the man on the ground for his harsh treatment of her, but McTavish wasn’t a man who took life for the sake of it. He believed in justice but also kindness.

“We should go,” she called.

“Aye.” He released his sword and drew back his shoulders. “We should.”

Chapter Thirteen

Isla was almost delirious with both exhaustion and relief on the ride back to Fifths Castle. She was glad McTavish had such a tight hold around her waist and was glad of his big warm body to lean on.

He set the horse at a gentle canter and they quickly covered ground.

When they trotted into the courtyard two stable hands rushed to take the horse and within seconds Mrs. Humphrey was rushing from the main doorway.

“Isla, my dear lass, you have returned. I’ve been so worried.”

“Aye, she is, but no thanks to anyone around here.” McTavish swung his gaze around the castle staff. “You ken this was my wife, right?”

“Nay, sir.” One of the stable hands shook his head. “We didn’t.”

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