The Rebel Read Free Page A

was her enemy and captor.
    “A Highlander killed my brother,” she quickly said, her tone growing serious. “So please do not look at me like that.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like you want to carry me back to that bed and do something savage with me.”
    He chuckled. “Clearly you’ve been entertaining some wayward thoughts this evening, lassie -
    but I must ask you to treat me with some respect. I have no intention of becoming a slave to your lusty urges. I simply won’t have it.”
    Yet again, she laughed. “You bashed me over the head today! So I quite assure you, I have no lusty urges whatsoever. Not a single one.”
    “Then why do you keep bringing it up?”
    She should have been offended. She should have stood up, slapped his face, and retired to the other room, but something held her spellbound. Even dressed in the tartan uniform of her enemy
    - the weapons a grim reminder of this Highlander’s potential ferocity and the death of her brother
    – he aroused her senses and sent a fever into her blood. It was the sheer might of his brawn, she supposed, and the bewildering fact that he had saved her life today, even after she tried to kill him.
    “Why did you help me?” she asked. “You could have just left me to die.”
    For a moment he regarded her in the quiet hush of the night, while the flames danced wildly in the hearth. Then at last he spoke. “Because you were the most beautiful creature I ever laid eyes on.”
    Excitement pooled in her belly, just as the door flew open and two bearded Highlanders burst into the room with muskets cocked and aimed at her head.
    Elizabeth leapt to her feet. She knocked over her chair as she backed up against the far wall.
    Slowly and calmly, Alex rose to his feet and turned to face them.
    o0o
    “Lower your weapons,” he said, holding his hands out to ease the sudden tension in the room.
    “She’s not armed. She’s just hungry, that’s all.”
    “She can starve, for all I care,” the taller one said.
    “Aye,” the other added. “It’s worse than we thought, Alex. The battle was not a triumph.”
    “What do you mean, not a triumph?” he replied. “I saw the English officers order the retreat.
    We chased them all the way back to Dunblane.”
    “Aye, we crushed them with our right flank, but our left flank broke. Argyll’s cavalry drove hundreds into the River Allen. Many drowned, and he is calling it a victory for King George.”
    Without lowering his weapon, the taller one flicked his hair out of his face. “Mar is withdrawing to Perth, and in the morning, despite our victory, Argyll will find himself master of the field.”
    Alex bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “All this killing, all these weeks of marching through bogs and icy pellets of rain… What was it for? We are still without a king, without a parliament. Without freedom.”
    Elizabeth dared not speak - not while the other two Scots were fuming with ire and still held loaded muskets aimed at her face.
    “Did she tell you anything?” the tall one asked, eyeing her dangerously down the long barrel of his weapon.
    Alex looked at her. “She told me enough, and I’ve determined she’s not a threat to us.”
    “I don’t believe that. Did you ask her about the dispatch?”
    Hot flames of panic burst in Elizabeth’s core. “Explain yourself, sir,” she demanded. “What dispatch? I know nothing of what you speak.”
    Alex regarded her with a look of regret. “I was going to ask you about it, lass, as soon as your belly was full. Come here.”
    He waved a hand for her to approach the table, then signaled for the other Scotsman to hand over a small parchment.
    “We found this in a secret compartment in the pocket of your coat,” he explained in a low voice. “Do you know of it?”
    She took it from him and read the contents. “This is a note to Argyll, explaining that a detachment of rebels are on their way to Dumferline. It recommends that he send his cavalry to trounce