Highland Obsession by Dawn Halliday Read Free Book Online Page A

walls would gleam dimly in the pale moonlight. Yellow light would shine from the tall, narrow top-story windows. It was Cam’s home, where his friend felt safest. Alan had heard stories of Cam’s happy childhood here before his mother died and his beloved governess had left him. Before his life had turned lonely and unhappy, with a father who didn’t understand him and who sent him away to England at the earliest opportunity.
    No, Cam wouldn’t have taken her anywhere else.
    He returned his focus to the men, who had formed a straight line before him, their mounts sidestepping nervously.
    He’d barrel through them, and if he survived, make a dash for the main gate. The castle was surrounded on three sides by the loch and steep cliff walls, and the iron gate was the only way in. He’d have to fight his way past the guards there, then run for the living quarters. Cam kept a barracks on the castle grounds. Theoretically, Alan could be forced to battle through a hundred men before reaching Sorcha.
    His chances were slim, but what choice did he have? He wouldn’t stand by and allow Cam to ravish his wife, as unreal as the notion was. In all their years of friendship, Alan had witnessed Cam tupping many a woman, but never one with any connection to Alan. And he had never seen Cam force a woman. What madness had infected him?
    Alan had seen the look on Cam’s face when he had taken her, and he could not mistake the man’s intent. Cam wanted her. He valued her. Far more than he valued his lifelong friendship with Alan.
    Alan had visited the earl just last week, and nothing had seemed amiss. They’d spent most of their time together lounging in Cam’s comfortable drawing room and contrasting their lives in Scotland and England. They’d resolutely stayed away from the topic of politics—in that regard they’d never seen eye to eye—and Alan’s upcoming marriage. Alan remembered now that each time he’d brought up Sorcha’s name, Cam had quickly steered the discussion in another direction.
    Placing his hand very deliberately over the hilt of his broadsword, Alan cast the guards a hard look. “She’s my wife,” he said softly. “I know he brought her here.”
    The leader was undaunted. The men surrounding him sat straight-backed in their saddles, on high alert. Tension radiated from them.
    “Where’s Angus?” one of them asked. He looked like a shrunken version of MacLean, pockmarks and all. Definitely a close relation.
    Alan stifled a grimace and gestured in the general direction of his lands. His balls still ached from Cam’s blow. His shoulder throbbed and smarted where MacLean had hit and pricked him with his sword.
    “Did ye kill ’im?”
    “No. He’ll be along soon enough, I imagine. He’ll be right as rain once he sleeps it off.”
    “Our orders are to turn you back, MacDonald. No soul is allowed entrance to the castle grounds this night.” This came from the leader.
    “She’s my wife,” Alan repeated. No sane, honorable man would fail to understand his motivation, or his intent.
    “Go home, MacDonald,” another man said in a grating voice. Focused solely on the leader, Alan didn’t know which of the clustered men the words came from.
    Not without Sorcha.
    Horses shifted restlessly, and a gap stretched between the leader and the man to his right. Alan didn’t hesitate. Sinking his heels into the horse’s sides, he drew his weapon with a whoosh of steel against leather. As the six men rushed to unsheathe their swords, he galloped toward the center man, aiming the sword at his heart. Unable to draw quickly enough, the man tried to veer his horse away, but Alan was too fast. Alan’s broadsword sank into his side. Crying out hoarsely, he slumped forward as Alan withdrew.
    If the man died, Alan could be hanged for this act alone. But there was no time to think on that now. He had to get through them. To reclaim his wife.
    Someone shouted, but Alan couldn’t make out the words. Thanking God for