Angel of Skye by May McGoldrick Read Free Book Online

awe-inspiring. The towering figure continued to stare as the falcon circled ever upward. Fiona’s eyes were drawn to the bird spiraling in free flight. In her mind the peregrine’s graceful soaring etched the word freedom on the blue canopy of sky above. When Crossbrand finally spoke, his tone was deferential. They know who he is, Fiona thought, and they know they are no match for him.
    “M’lord,” the outlaw began humbly. “She’s got the plague. She’s a leper, m’lord. We were just–”
    “That is no crime,” the warlord interrupted in a tone that washed all color from the men’s faces. Only the leader’s brand retained its bright red hue. “Sickness is no longer a crime on the Isle of Skye.”
    Alec had learned soon after his arrival about the appalling MacLeod policy of paying bounties for the lives of lepers. Alec had spread the news far and wide that such brutality would no longer be tolerated.
    “M’lord,” Crossbrand pleaded in faltering terms, his eyes searching the ground as if he might find the right words there. “M’lord, we...please, m’lord...she...well...the plague, she–”
    “Enough.” Alec cut him off, his voice conveying the steely edge of his anger. “I have made it very clear what the punishment would be for those hunting the innocent.”
    “But, m’lord, we didn’t know,” the outlaw cried, his lying words seconded by the mumbling noises of the two standing behind him. Fiona wished his false tongue would swell in his throat and choke him, God forgive him. “We were away...in the service of the King James, m’lord...at Flodden...for three years, m’lord....But it’s her, m’lord...she spreads the Death, m’lord. We being healthy...we thought...m’lord...maybe as service–”
    “I have heard enough,” Alec said. These lowlifes would say anything to save their miserable hides. “There is no longer any room on Skye for the likes of you three.”
    The three took another step back.
    “But m’lord,” Crossbrand begged, “we’ve done service for the king. We were just doing what was–”
    “You should go down on your knees and thank God that I do not give you exactly the punishment you deserve,” Alec growled.
    “But m’lord–”
    “Leave this island!” the warrior commanded, his voice low and steely. “I tell you this: If, after sundown tonight, you are seen on Skye, your punishment will be death. Go.”
    “But m’lord–” the outlaw whined.
    “Now!” Alec nudged his charger forward a pace.
    The three turned and ran across the field, but not before Fiona saw the look of hatred that Crossbrand shot in her direction. She uttered a silent prayer that their paths would never cross again.
    Fiona cast a glance at Lord Macpherson and then at the woods behind her. She was grateful, but hesitant.
    Years of the prioress’s warning words crashed down upon her. She was to stay away from nobles, warriors, lairds. She was to hide away from Torquil MacLeod and all of his men. But this was different—this was Lord Macpherson, the man she had watched for months. The man who had stormed past her in the mist of many dawns. The man who was bringing prosperity at last to the people of Skye.
    The one who had crept into her dreams for more nights than she cared to admit.
    She had to leave.
    Fiona knew that she was crossing forbidden boundaries in tarrying with this man. It was one thing to dream, but this was far too real. And she could not risk any further involvement with the laird looming above her. She had to get back to the Priory. There was enough explaining to do as it was. Fiona took a step back with the idea of running for the wood.
    “Stand where you are,” the warlord ordered, watching the three disappear into the trees. He had found her at last. He wasn’t about to let her evaporate into thin air again.
    Fiona stopped short at his words. She pulled her hood farther forward over her face as the warrior climbed down from his steed. The young woman realized