The Eternal Highlander by Lynsay Sands, Hannah Howell Read Free Book Online Page A

two days courting her. Even more alarming was the fact that she was slowly succumbing to his wooing. He was beautiful and made her knees weak. He was dangerous.
    Bridget hurried over to her chest of clothes. She took out her old cloak, piled a few clothes and carefully chosen personal items into the center of it, and tied the four corners together to make a sack. Donning her new cloak, she slipped out of the bedchamber. Silently, but quickly, she crept through the hall, down the stairs, and out the doors into the bailey. She was just about to run out through the gates, surprised but pleased to see them open, when a man dropped to the ground right in front of her. A soft screech escaped her as she stumbled back a step, even as she frantically looked around in a vain attempt to see where he had come from.
    “Greetings, lass,” the man said in a deep, rough voice. “Ye probably dinnae remember me. I am Raibeart. I drove your wee bonnie cart back here after we saved ye from those thieving swine.”
    “Ah, weel, I thank ye. Now, if ye will just excuse me,” she tried to dart around him, but the man swiftly put himself in her path.
    “Now, ye dinnae really want to go out there. Tis dark, aye? Too dangerous for such a wee lass.”
    “Ye arenae going to let me leave, are ye?” She cursed when he shook his head.
    “The laird wants ye to stay here.”
    “I dinnae care what he wants. He isnae my laird. He isnae my kinsmon, either.” Bridget could feel panic clawing at her insides and struggled to push it aside. “ I wish to go to my cousin’s and none of ye have the right to stop me.”
    She felt a light touch upon her shoulder. Blindly, she turned and struck out, raking her nails across the face of the man who stood behind her. As her fingernails scored soft flesh the feeling pulled her free of the tight grasp fear had upon her. She looked in horror at the bloody furrows she had left upon Jankyn’s cheek. He touched a hand to the cuts as he stared at her, his gaze holding more intense consideration than shock. Mumbling a heartfelt apology, Bridget pulled a square of daintily embroidered linen from a pocket in the lining of her cloak. However, by the time she reached toward Jankyn, intending to clean the blood from his wounds, there was no need for such care.
    “Your wounds appear to be closing,” she whispered.
    “Aye. They were only shallow cuts,” he said. “Ye have verra sharp nails, lass.” Keeping his gaze fixed upon her face, he slowly licked the blood from his fingers.
    “Oh, it needed only that.” Bridget closed her eyes, took a deep breath to calm herself, then scowled at Jankyn.
    “That was a strange thing to do, lass,” murmured Raibeart as he moved to stand beside her.
    It was, but Bridget would never admit it. “Nay, it wasnae. I felt a touch and thought I was in danger. Jankyn also crept up behind me when I was feeling agitated.” She abruptly made a dash for the gate, not surprised when both men quickly appeared to block her way. “That could become verra annoying.”
    “E’en if we were inclined to let ye leave,” Jankyn said, “we certainly wouldnae let ye march off into the night all alone.”
    Bridget realized she was no longer afraid. That seemed strange. Nothing had occurred to alter the conclusions she had come to. In truth, what had just happened with Jankyn had only strengthened them. Yet, as she stood before these two MacNachtons, she only felt a very natural annoyance that these men would not allow her to do what she wanted to do. The only expression she could see in their feral eyes was a manly annoyance over a woman not doing as she was told. She felt no threat from these men and, considering what she was now sure they were, that truly made no sense at all.
    “Ah, so ye will escort me to my cousin’s then, will ye?” she said in a voice so sweet she was surprised it did not make her teeth ache.
    “Nay, they willnae,” drawled an all too familiar voice from behind