Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(28)

Genevieve’s voice was soft and sweet, and he spun immediately, eager to drink in her appearance again.

She was wrapped in a drying blanket. It covered every inch of her skin. Only her head poked out. Her wet hair lay limply over her head and was arranged to cover her scarred cheek.

He wanted to tell her that she needn’t hide her disfigurement from him. It certainly didn’t make him want her less. It had been Ian’s intention to ruin her for any other man, but Ian was a bloody fool for ever thinking that scarring the lass’s face would make her any less desirable.

His fingers curled in anger at the thought of Ian holding her down and flaying open her cheek with a knife.

She cleared her throat awkwardly at his prolonged silence.

“Laird? You wanted to speak with me?”

He let out his breath as she settled on one of the large boulders that lined the river. Her blanket was pulled even tighter around her as she huddled behind its protection.

The right thing to do would be to allow her to dress and return to the keep, but he didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation.

Deciding to sit across from her on the banks of the stream rather than to continue looming over her, he settled down and then met her gaze.

“I would ask you a question, and I’d like an honest answer.”

Her eyes narrowed at the slight and she pursed her lips, but she remained silent. Then she merely nodded.

“Did you have anything to do with Eveline Montgomery’s abduction?” he asked bluntly.

She froze. Went completely still. Where before she’d fidgeted nervously in the folds of the blanket, now she didn’t so much as move a muscle. Her jaw tightened and fear crawled, ugly and dark, into her eyes.

She gripped the blanket so hard the tips of her fingers went white and the blood drained from her face.

Nay, the lass would never make a warrior, as he’d observed before. There was no way for her to disguise her actions. It was all there to see in her eyes.

However much he tried to control his anger, it crept over him, itchy and hot, until he was no longer able to remain sitting there.

As soon as he stood, she flinched back, becoming a much smaller target. There was such desolation in her eyes that it froze him from the inside out. ’Twas like looking over the most barren winter landscape. Cold and haunted.

“Tell me you didn’t do this thing,” he whispered.

“I can’t do that,” she said, her voice cracking like dry wood.

“Sweet Jesu, why?” he thundered. “How could you do such a thing, especially knowing the manner of man Ian McHugh was?”

He came across more forcefully than he wanted, but he was near to exploding.

“Genevieve? I expect an answer.”

She looked so stricken, her eyes wide. Her mouth opened, but she swallowed and then closed it again.

They both jumped and turned toward the keep when shouts went up in the distance. Bowen strained to hear what the noise was about, and when he finally heard the distinct call his blood went cold.

“To arms! We’re under attack!”

Chapter 14

Bowen made a grab for Genevieve, hauling her up beside him and then urging her back toward the keep.

“Run!” he urged. “Make haste.”

Genevieve scrambled over the rocky terrain in her bare feet, the blanket still wrapped tightly around her body. Her clothing still lay on the bank of the river, and Bowen gave her no time to retrieve it.

He ran as fast as he was able with Genevieve in tow, until they reached the back entrance through the skirt. He ducked inside, his hands still firmly wrapped around Genevieve’s arm.

“Go inside,” he ordered. “Take cover in your chamber.”

He nudged her forward and then broke into a run, unsheathing his sword as he went. When he reached the courtyard, it was chaotic.

The McHugh warriors looked bewildered, while the few remaining Montgomery and Armstrong soldiers were preparing for battle.

Bowen found Brodie in the crowd and shouted to him. Brodie looked up and then stalked a determined line over to where Bowen stood.

“What is happening? Who called the men to arms?”

“I did,” Brodie said, his features grim and his eyes dark with the promise of battle. “The McHugh idiots were set to welcome their laird home. ’Tis not a welcome he seeks!”

“Patrick McHugh rides against us?” Bowen asked incredulously. Could they be so fortunate as to have the jackal come to them? “It will certainly save us time hunting him down.”

“He’s not alone,” Brodie bit out. “He’s found an ally in the McGrieves. They ride side by side with him, and they bring their army.”

Bowen swore. “How many?”

“I don’t know. They are but a fifteen-minute ride from the keep. The McHugh watchmen came in bearing the news that their laird returned. I had to tell the fools to prepare for war.”

Bowen ground his teeth together until they nearly snapped under the pressure. “Spread word that McHugh comes to battle his own kin. Remind them of all he has stolen from them, and of the dishonor that he bestowed on their name. Tell them he has a bounty, and that any who side with him are enemy not only to the Montgomerys and Armstrongs but to the Crown as well. Look out for any traitors—and watch your back, my friend.”

Brodie caught his arm as they clasped hands in a warrior’s shake. “Aye, and you as well.”