Highland Deception (Highland Pride) Read Free Page B

figure. “Damn, you’re right.” He scratched his head then moved in for a closer look.
    “She was helping him,” Robbie explained as Dougal and Seamus finally let go of Lachlan. He stood and rushed toward his brother.
    “Lachlan, ye just tried to kill the lass that saved yer brother’s life.” He heard Alan but didn’t spare a glance in his friend’s direction, ignoring the accusation as he leaned over Malcolm to check the sutured wound.
    “Did ye hear me, Lachlan?”
    He still didn’t acknowledge Alan. Malcolm’s breathing was relaxed, and his cheeks were still rosy. Lachlan let a whoosh of air from his lungs as relief flooded through him; he would never bring the boy on another mission. Satisfied that Malcolm was still breathing and would recover with no lasting damage, Lachlan finally turned to Alan. “What happened?”
    Robbie jumped in with a reply. “Malcolm was down. She popped up from over there”—he pointed to the ditch—“then she ran over and sewed him up. He would have bled out had she not done it.”
    “I saw a dirk. The boy had a dirk,” Lachlan said defensively. He didn’t want to believe he had attacked and nearly killed someone who had saved his brother, but Malcolm had been sutured by someone.
    “The lass was cutting the sutures when ye rushed her ,” Alan said.
    With one last glance at his brother to make sure he would be fine, Lachlan reluctantly made his way to the figure on the ground. All the men were gathered around and staring.
    “What the hell is she doing dressed as a lad? An English lad, at that,” Lachlan scoffed, hoping they were wrong and he had not just attacked an innocent woman.
    Damn, it was a lass. He’d never seen hair so dark, almost like a raven’s wing. She had long lashes and sinfully full lips and was smaller than most of the women of his clan. Her shirtsleeve had been pulled up to reveal a slight hand curled upward, an intricately scrolled metal bracelet circling her tiny wrist. The value of the piece led him to believe she was someone of importance. His gut twisted as guilt assailed him. From the crack of her skull against the tree, he’d not gone easy on her, and she’d be lucky if she would ever be normal again.
    “Lachlan, we have to get out of here before anyone else shows up,” Alan said.
    Glancing around, his gaze studied the open field and well-worn path serving as a road. Movement from the other side of the green and purple expanse caught his attention as a group of blackbirds alighted from the trees as if they had been spooked by something. “Aye, we do. But we cannae just leave her. She’ll have to come with us for now.” Turning back toward his men, he tilted his head toward the embankment. “Dump the bodies in the ravine. We’ll take the horses.” Guilt rode him hard—he owed it to her to find her family and see her home safely, but they didn’t have the time. “Alan, see to Malcolm. I’ll get the lass.”
    And he needed to get Robbie to safety. His hand rubbed across the leather pouch strapped to his side as he thought of the traitorous words written in Conall’s letter. The boy had been through too much already. They wouldn’t be safe until he had both back at Kentillie Castle.
    Aye, she would have to go with them. Damn. Just what he needed right now—to worry about a deceitful lass wearing English trews.
    …
    Riding through the dense, shadowed forest the rest of the afternoon had provided cover from travelers on the main road. Careful of Malcolm’s injury and watchful of whether they were followed through the lush greenery left them trotting along at a maddeningly slow pace. When his brother woke, he claimed to be tender where he had been sliced, but showed no signs of anything other than a flesh wound.
    Malcolm inspected his sutures and called out to him, “Next time a lass attempts to save me, don’t try to kill her. She did a hell of a job.”
    He flinched. “Ye ken I would never hurt a lass on purpose.” If he