Page 72 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

“Brodie did this?” Saidh asked as she urged her to sit on the fallen log closest to the fire and looked her over.

“Aye,” Dwyn murmured. Noting the grim expressions all around, she was guessing she looked pretty bad at the moment, but then a black eye and split lip would hardly be pretty; add a cut and swollen forehead and she feared her plainness had moved on to just ugly.

“Oh my, it was an adventure,” she heard Father Machar saying from a nearby log that the other women had urged him to. “The Brodie gagged us and tied us up back-to-back. It was most unpleasant. The gag was dirty, ye see. But Lady Buchanan got her gag off and then even managed to remove mine as well. She had to stick her tongue in me mouth to do it, but there was nothing lascivious about it. She was just trying to get the gag out.”

Dwyn turned to peer at the man with raised eyebrows. She seemed to recall him declaring he couldn’t possibly talk about what had happened. What would people think? he’d asked. Apparently, he’d forgotten that concern, she thought wryly as he continued.

“Just as I’m sure there was nothing lascivious when she put her hands on me bum while I had me legs in the air. It wasn’t even really her hands, but her knuckles. She was trying to undo me bindings, ye see.”

There was a brief silence and then one of the women loosed a giggle. It was short. Whoever it was obviously tried to stifle it, but it was the catalyst that had everyone laughing, and Dwyn felt herself relax a little, and then jerked in surprise when something cool touched her forehead.

“Sorry,” Jo Sinclair said apologetically as she smeared something oily over the cut on her head. “I did not mean to startle you. I am just putting some salve on to help prevent infection and reduce the swelling.”

“Thank ye,” Dwyn murmured, doing her best to remain still.

Jo smeared more salve around her eye after that, and a little on her split lip, and then frowned at the bruises visible on Dwyn’s chest, but began to press on her ribs, asking if it hurt.

“I do not think he broke any of your ribs, but you are definitely bruised there. And everywhere from what I can see,” Jo said grimly.

“He was angry that I was married already,” Dwyn said wearily.

“And thank God ye were,” Saidh said grimly. “I canno’ imagine ye’d have survived long married to that bastard.”

The other women all murmured agreement to that and then Jo said, “You look tired, Dwyn. We brought plaids out with us. Why do you not rest on one until the men return? Or would you rather return to Buchanan and rest in a bed? It could be a while before the men finish and return.”

“Nay. Here is fine,” Dwyn assured her. She wasn’t going anywhere until she was sure Geordie was all right.

Father Machar was still chattering away about his “adventure” as she lay down on the plaid the women spread out for her. She murmured, “Thank ye,” when Aileen and Una spread another plaid over her and then allowed Father Machar’s excited voice to lull her to sleep.

“Anything?” Geordie asked grimly, wiping what he suspected was blood from his forehead with the back of his arm as Aulay and the MacGregor approached.

“Nay,” Aulay said. “Brodie’s no’ among the bodies or the prisoners.”

“The bastard appears to have abandoned his men and slipped away in the melee,” Conn MacGregor growled with disgust.

Geordie cursed under his breath at the news. He’d wanted to put an end to this chapter of Dwyn’s life so she’d never need fear the man’s popping up again in the future.

“I’m no’ surprised,” Alick said grimly. While Laird Innes had stayed behind to guard the women, the youngest Buchanan brother had returned to the fray the moment he’d delivered Father Machar to the women. Geordie had seen him return and had been relieved to know Dwyn and the priest were well out of it. Now his brother said, “What else would a coward do? And any man who beats a woman is a coward.”

Geordie’s gaze sharpened on his brother. “He beat Dwyn?”

“Badly, by what Father Machar said on our ride back to the women,” Alick told him solemnly. “By his account, Brodie was no’ happy to learn Dwyn was married to ye and beyond his claiming her.” Grimacing, he added, “I got a look at her face once we reached the temporary camp and the light from the torches and fire. She’s several bruises and wounds and her gown is ripped. She . . .”

Geordie didn’t hear the rest; he had already mounted and turned his horse to head back to the women.

Chapter 19

“Oh, bother,” Dwyn muttered, pushing aside a branch that appeared to be trying to yank the hair out of her head. She then paused to survey the darkness around her, unsure she was heading the right way.

Much to her surprise, Dwyn had actually managed to fall asleep for a bit by the fire while waiting for news from the men. When she’d woken up, the rest of the women had been resting while her father stood guard. Dwyn had nodded at him and slipped into the trees to relieve herself. That was why she’d woken up, a desperate need to water a bush. Now she’d finished the task and was making her way back to camp, but was suddenly worried she’d got herself turned around and was heading away from rather than back toward the fire. She was sure she hadn’t come so far from camp. Dwyn would think she’d be able to see the fire ahead through the trees by now, but she’d been still half-asleep when she’d stumbled from the plaid and couldn’t be sure how far she’d gone.

Grimacing to herself, Dwyn bent to catch the back of her skirt and draw it up between her legs to tuck it into the belt around her waist. She’d just climb a tree and have a look around. That should give her an idea whether she was heading the right way or not. She hoped.

The tree next to her felt a good size, she decided after sliding her arms around the base to test its girth. Stretching up to grasp the highest branch she could reach, Dwyn dug her slippered foot into the trunk and pushed herself upward as she pulled with her arms. She’d just managed to get both feet off the ground and had shifted one hand to a higher branch to continue upward when her ankle was grabbed and yanked downward.

Dwyn cried out in surprise, but instinctively tightened her hold on the two branches she was grasping as she glanced down. All she could see was a dark shape below, but it was too big to be one of the other women or her father, and whoever it was obviously wasn’t a friend or they’d have spoken by now. That thought in mind, Dwyn hooked her arm over the nearest branch to give her more stability, and then removed her free foot from the branch it was on, and kicked out at the hand grasping her other ankle.

Her aim was good, and Dwyn heard the man bark out a curse as her foot was suddenly released. Her blood ran cold as she recognized Brodie’s voice behind the expletive. Turning her gaze desperately to the branches above her, she began to scramble upward as quickly as she could. Dwyn had just pulled the previously caught foot up to a branch and started to pull up the other when it now was caught and yanked viciously. Her arm was still hooked over the branch, but Dwyn lost her grip on the higher branch and tried desperately to grab on to something else to save herself. Unfortunately, Brodie was still exerting pressure on her foot and before she could save herself her arm slipped and she was falling out of the tree.

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