Page 77 of The Wrong Highlander (Highland Brides 7)

Conran grunted a “Thank ye,” carried Evina inside and kicked the door closed. He then let her legs drop to the floor, turned her to face him and kissed her. It was so not what she’d expected, and Evina was slow to respond. By the time she gathered herself enough to do so, he was lifting his head. That is when the berating began.

“What on earth were ye thinking? Ye ken someone is out to kill ye and yet ye took yerself off to the bailey as if ye’ve no’ a care in the world. Ye put yerself and everyone else in jeopardy with yer thoughtless . . .”

That’s when Evina stopped listening, and lowered her head. She simply couldn’t listen anymore. Her own mind was already saying much the same things. This was her fault. Cormag might die because she’d just had to rebel and disobey the order to stay put with Gavin at the table. The boy had seen barely sixteen years, but might not see another thanks to her. She knew that. Conran didn’t have to tell her.

Aware of a sudden silence, Evina lifted her head and peered at Conran in question. He was standing perfectly still, his eyes closed, she saw, and then he breathed out a sigh and opened his eyes. “I’m sorry, love. I ken ye just had a scare, and berating ye is no helping. I just—”

He paused with surprise when Evina covered his lips with a finger.

“Nay,” she said solemnly. “Ye’re right. If Cormag dies ’twill be all me fault fer going to the practice field. I was no’ thinking o’ anyone but meself and me wants when I went there. I should ha’e done as ye and Father ordered and stayed at the table until ye returned below.”

Conran frowned at her guilt-ridden voice and shook his head. “Nay, Evi. This isn’t yer fault. Ye’re no’ the one who shot the arrow. But ’twas pure luck that ye were no’ hit by it.”

“No’ lucky fer Cormag though,” she said unhappily.

“Evi,” he began, and then sighed and shook his head. “We will have to talk about this later. The others are waiting below. But ’tis no’ yer fault,” he repeated firmly, and then turned to head for the door. He opened it, and stepped to the side, then frowned and glanced around when he realized she hadn’t followed him. “Are ye no’ coming?”

“Nay. I’m tired,” she said quietly, but the truth was she was ashamed of herself and didn’t want to face the accusing eyes of the others. For surely they must blame her for the danger she’d put everyone into with her little jaunt.

Conran hesitated, but then nodded solemnly. “I’ll send word about Cormag as soon as there is some, and return as soon as I can. In the meantime, why do ye no’ try to rest?”

Evina nodded and walked over to lie down on the bed on her side.

Conran hesitated another moment, but then turned toward the door. “Geordie and Alick are standing guard outside the door. Shout if ye need anything.”

Evina merely watched the door close behind him and then turned her head back to stare at the drapes overhead with a sigh. She felt a complete ass, a selfish monster. And she kept seeing Cormag’s eager face as she’d explained how he should hold the broadsword, and then his crumpled form and the arrow sticking out of his back afterward.

Closing her eyes, she tried to block those images from her mind, and sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come and she laid there for a long time with those images replaying through her thoughts until she thought she would go mad.

Evina was finally able to push them from her mind by turning to thoughts of how to catch her attacker. That was the only way to ensure no one else was hurt by the man—capturing him and eliminating him as a threat. Evina knew the men were probably looking for him even now, but he had proven elusive before and she had no doubt would again. It seemed to her that luring him into a trap was the only answer, and she was pondering just how to do that when a knock sounded at the door. Sitting up abruptly, she glanced toward the door, and called, “Enter.” She then got to her feet as it opened, and she saw that it was her cousin Gavin.

Moving toward him, she asked, “What news?”

“Conran asked Rory to let ye ken how Cormag was,” he explained as he closed the door.

“And?” Evina prompted anxiously, taking his hands in hers.

“And Cormag’s going to be fine, cousin,” Gavin assured her, squeezing her hands. “Rory is still sewing Cormag’s wound, but didn’t want ye fretting any longer than necessary. He said ’tis just a flesh wound. It missed bone and everything else. He’ll be up and back in the practice field within two or three days.”

“Thank goodness,” Evina breathed, and bowed her head with relief.

“’Twas no’ yer fault, cousin,” Gavin said quietly, slipping a supporting arm around her back and patting her awkwardly. “Ye did no’ shoot the arrow at him. ’Twas just good luck it missed ye and hit him instead.”

Evina pulled back to peer at him with eyebrows raised. “Good luck?”

“Well, I consider it good luck,” he admitted with an apologetic smile. “I ken I probably should no’ and Cormag may no’ agree, but I’m glad ye were no’ killed.”

Smiling crookedly, Evina hugged him tightly and then stepped back to ask, “Did I get ye in trouble fer letting me go down to the practice field?”

“Nay. No one’s said aught about it. Yet,” he added dryly. “They’re all busy at present.”

“Doing what?” she asked. “Trying to sort out what to do about me would-be killer?”

“Nay. There’s little enough to say about that. No one can figure out the who or why of it, other than that ’tis most likely that bandit I let escape from the clearing,” he added, his mouth tightening unhappily. “I should have chased the bastard down and run him through at the time. I was just so worried about yer wound and getting ye back to the keep and help, I—”

“Ye did right,” she interrupted to assure him solemnly. “I might ha’e died had ye and Conran no’ got me back to the keep and tended me wound so quickly.”

“And ye might still do so do we no’ catch the bastard,” Gavin growled.

---