Highland Resurrection (Blades of Honor Book 2) by B.J. Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

rugged chiseled features, and strong chin. He was a tall, muscular man with broad shoulders and raven hair hanging loose about his collar—not shortly cropped like most monks. He did, however, dress in a monk’s robe, leaving her imagination running wild as to what lay beneath the garment. And when he smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth, her heart skipped a beat.
    “It appears your memory of the attack has returned,” Lazarus pointed out, changing the topic of discussion. “While in your delirium, you called out a man’s name. Do you know either of the blackguards who assaulted you?”
    “Nay. I have never seen them before.” She swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat and squeezed her eyes shut as the events flooded back.
    “If you can identify the men who did this to you, perhaps the local magistrate can see they are punished,” Lazarus said. “You mentioned the name Roderick several times.”
    Her eyes flew open, her blood running cold. Had she actually called that out in her sleep? “I know no one by that name,” she lied. “Perhaps you were mistaken.”
    “Your words were very clear. Quinn said he’s heard you cry out the same name when dreaming in the past,” Lazarus replied.
    “Then he was mistaken too,” she declared. “I’m feeling very tired and would like to rest. So if you would take your leave, I would appreciate it.”
    Lazarus placed his hand on her shoulder. “I already told you that I have no intention of going anywhere until you’re well enough to care for the lad and yourself. If you dinna wish to talk about the attack right now, fine. But I left you once when you needed my help and willna do it again. Not until I’m certain you’re well.”
    Being touched by a man caused a shiver of trepidation skittering up her spine, but she’d show no fear. Sheena nibbled on her lower lip as she stared back at Lazarus. The stubborn man was not going to yield. Yet having him here made her most uncomfortable. She hadn’t trusted a man since she was seventeen and she never would again.
    “Are you all right? Have you remembered something that might help us bring the men who accosted you to justice?” Lazarus asked.
    Instead of answering, she absently stroked the scar on her chin and tried to shove the unpleasant memories of the past to the back of her mind, but failed. The day she was raped, then marked as a whore, suddenly felt like yesterday.
    Her stepmother, Lillian MacLean, moaned then dragged a shaky hand across her lips. Heavy with child and about to deliver any day, she’d spent the better part of the last nine months hovering over a bucket, unable to keep much food or drink on her stomach.
    “Are you feeling any better?” Sheena asked as she cupped her stepmother’s elbow and helped her to stand. “It willna be much longer. The babe will be here soon and this bothersome stomach ailment should pass.” She escorted Lillian to her bed and waited for her to sit.
    “It canna be too soon for my liking,” Lillian replied. “I know your da is hoping for a son, and pray the babe will be a lad. I have no intention of going through this again. Your father can take a mistress if he wishes, but I’ll not warm his bed in future.”
    Sheena offered a sympathetic nod and patted the back of Lillian’s hand. “I know this hasna been an easy go of it for you. But once you hold the wee one in your arms, you will forget all you’ve had to endure.”
    It took her father’s third wife four summers to finally carry a babe this far along. After three stillborn births, then this time suffering from nonstop stomach queasiness and almost losing the babe twice, Sheena could understand Lillian’s decision to abstain.
    Her da was getting on in years, having seen more than two score, but like most men, he was determined to sire a son. Sheena, an only child from his first marriage, served as a constant reminder of his failure to produce a male heir. He never missed a chance to tell