Highland Deception (Highland Pride) Read Free

brought his sword down toward Nathair’s shoulder. The blade skimmed his chest on the way down.
    Nathair grunted. “Is that the best ye have? I expected more from ye. Conall will torture the boy before he kills him.”
    Lachlan’s blood froze as he recalled what Robbie had already been through and the myriad stories he’d heard of Conall’s cruelty. The man was telling the truth.
    Lachlan’s fingers flexed and gripped his sword. He’d never found a use for conversing during battle. It took too much energy and usually distracted him instead of his foe. Before all the words were out, he swung at Nathair’s midsection. Blood exploded from his abdomen. He looked at Lachlan, his eyes now blank and disbelieving.
    “What were ye saying?” Lachlan taunted as the man crumpled to the ground. “No one will touch the boy while I am alive to protect him.” Lachlan squared his shoulders and held his sword high while he scanned for the next man to attack.
    …
    Maggie heard taunts being exchanged but couldn’t make them out as she lay pressed against the bank. One was the voice of the well-muscled man she’d been admiring But it had changed, become coarse and dangerous. A shiver ran through her spine at the coolness in the tone.
    She was in the wrong place. Freedom had drifted a little farther down the stream, but she could not chance an attempt to reach the horse. This was supposed to be her day of liberation, and there was no way to sneak away undetected. Again, men had interfered with her plans.
    She prayed no one saw her.
    Unable to control her curiosity, she peeked over the ridge. A couple of the second band of men looked vaguely familiar, and she struggled to place where she’d seen them.
    Doing her best to blend in and not be detected, she ducked her head back beneath the embankment. She was dressed like a boy, one who did not belong to either group, and she gulped when she realized she would be cut down for sure if she was spotted.
    As she scrambled down to make herself as small as possible, her hands skidded across the muddied earth smelling of dirty water and mildew. She was a mess, but she hardly noticed, because the thud of her pounding heart drove away all other sensations as she contemplated what would happen if she were discovered.
    She cringed with each shout and grunt ringing out above her. The clang of clashing swords grated on her as curses flew through the air. A twig scraped her face, and she swatted at it, the muck from her hands smearing over her right cheek and temple.
    Shaking and clutching her bag, Maggie cowered and prayed they would leave without finding her. A thud sounding just above her head made her jump.
    Moaning came from the source. She had to look, she just had to. Whoever was there would find her anyway. When she looked over the ledge, she discovered a man lay injured and a boy leaning over him with wide, fear-filled eyes. The man on the ground was at least three years younger than she. Barely grown, and he looked so much like her brother. His eyes rolled skyward as he thrashed on the dirt. An unfamiliar pang swelled in her heart.
    Blood poured out from a wound to his midsection.
    Maggie didn’t think; she grabbed her bag, jumped up the embankment, and ran toward the fallen man. The boy’s gaze followed her as she knelt down by his friend. His eyes bored into her until something clicked, because he seemed to realize she meant no harm.
    By the time she was at the injured man’s side, he’d lost consciousness. Mayhap ’twas for the best. She pulled his shirt back to inspect the wound. Once she stilled her frayed nerves, her training kicked in. If it had been a drop higher and just a little deeper or more centered, she wouldn’t have been able to do anything.
    Hoping to find something that would be of use, she rummaged through the supplies in her bag. Her hand landed on a stray piece of embroidery work. She pulled out the thread and needle and went to work, doing her best to stanch the