'Why?'
'I was angry with you.'
'I know why you insulted me. Why are you apologizing?'
'A marriage begun with insults has little hope of harmony.'
'There will be no marriage.'
'But your king—'
'Will forget such an insignificant order in due course.'
'You believe an order to wed insignificant?'
'Yes.'
'I see. What do you plan to do with me then?'
He shrugged as if her future was of no consequence. And undoubtedly, to him it would be. But she could not be so sanguine. 'I do not want you to send me home.'
'You lie, just like all the English.'
'I do not lie.'
'You do not want to live here.'
'That is true.'
'Then you lie.'
'I don't.'
She saw nothing for it and explained about Abigail.
'So, you came in hopes of saving your sister from having to come here and marry me?'
'Yes.'
'That is commendable.' He said it grudgingly, but he was no longer scowling at her.
'She is gentle. She would not understand the coldness of your clan toward an English bride for their laird.'
'And you do?'
Emily didn't, but she wasn't about to destroy the little rapport they had managed to achieve by saying so. 'I do not want my sister hurt.'
'I will not hurt her.'
'So, you will not send me back?'
'I have not decided.'
He stood up as if to go and she understood their discussion was at an end. She hurriedly made her request about the lake. He did not acknowledge it directly, but assigned a single young soldier to escort her, thereby giving his tacit approval and underscoring just how unimportant she was in his estimation if he would not waste a seasoned warrior on her escort.
But he had seemed to understand about Abigail at least. That was something. When Cait heard where Emily planned to go, the other woman insisted on accompanying her.
They reached the lake after a half an hour of brisk walking. Cait ordered the young soldier to wait for them with his back turned on the other side of some bushes. After realizing the two women intended to bathe, the boy turned bright red and hurried to obey his laird's sister.
As always, Emily was careful to stay in the shallowest water, refusing Cait's invitation to swim with hidden revulsion. The thought of going into deeper water made her sick to her stomach as it always did and she had to bide that as well. She was proud of her ability to do so.
Emily and Cait were finished bathing and redonning their clothes when Cait went utterly still. She turned toward where the Sinclair soldier had gone as if trying to see through the thick plant growth.
'What's the matter?' Emily asked. 'He's not peeking is he?'
Cait shook her head and put her finger against her lips in a sign to be quiet. Emily couldn't imagine what had her so agitated, but she did as Cait said and finished dressing as silently as possible. Cait did the same, her expression stark with worry.
She went rigid with tension, grabbing the small knife she used at mealtimes from her belt. Her eyes were fixed on the foliage several feet from the water's edge. Emily's gaze followed Cait's, though she had no idea what they were both watching for. A wild animal perhaps? But she hadn't heard anything and she had very good hearing.
The answer came a second later as five gigantic warriors, their faces painted with macabre blue designs and wearing a plaid of dark blue, green and pale yellow came out of the forest. They were riding the biggest horses she'd ever seen… bareback.
Chapter 3
Emily thought she had been prepared for anything in this Highland country, but she hadn't been ready for this. If someone had told her the day before that there were warriors more intimidating than the Sinclairs, she would have laughed in the person's face. She wasn't laughing now.
Nay. She was too busy praying.
The giant men rode toward her and Cait, their fierce scowls made even more menacing by the blue war paint. It was not so much that they were bigger than the Sinclair warriors as that they carried themselves as if they owned the world and all that was in it. Considering they were on another clan's territory, that said something. She'd never seen such arrogance and she'd been raised by one ox England's most ruthless barons and was now betrothed to the formidable Sinclair laird.
The sound of Cait's frightened intake of breath reminded Emily she was not alone in facing the menace. Relief turned to chagrin in the space of a second. Emily didn't want her friend hurt… or frightened. She turned to Cait, whose face had drained of color. She was looking with terror at the warriors on horseback.
Emily tried to smile reassuringly. 'Don't be frightened, Cait. It's only some friends of your brother, I'm thinking.'
They looked mean enough to be friends to the Sinclair laird.
Cait shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving the approaching warriors. 'Friends? Nay, Emily. These are Balmoral soldiers and they have already killed Everett,' she said, speaking of the boy sent to guard Emily, 'or they would not be here.'
Emily turned eyes filled with fury to the warrior closest to her. 'Surely, not. You did not kill that boy. For it would be a sin for a grown man to kill a child… even here in the Highlands.'
The warrior she addressed, a redheaded demon with eyes the color of grass, raised his brows but did not answer. He watched her silently, causing her to nervously twist and untwist the folds of her dress. She felt goaded into speaking again.
'Do you not know it is impolite to ignore a lady when she is speaking to you?' She'd been using Gaelic the whole time, so she knew the heathen monsters had to understand her.
A warrior from her left spoke. He could have been the first one's twin but for his brown eyes. 'We did not kill the boy.'
Emily turned back to her friend. 'There now. Do you see? These are merciful men. I'm sure we have nothing to fear.'
She prayed God would forgive her for the lie, but she hated the look of dread in Cait's eyes.
Cait's snort of disbelief turned into a scream as the green-eyed warrior swiftly rode forward and swung her onto his horse. He disarmed her in a move too quick for Emily to see, but she saw the small knife fall to the ground. Forgetting anything resembling ladylike decorum, she dove for it.
Grasping it in her hand, she scrambled to her feet and went for the warrior's unprotected calf.
The horse backed up and the knife swished uselessly through air. She lurched forward to try again, but was caught from behind by an arm as big as a pine tree. At least that was how it felt ramming into her stomach and knocking out her breath as she was lifted off her feet and dropped into a totally indecent position in front of one of the Balmorals.
She couldn't even scream, but she could bite and that's what she did, turning and sinking her teeth into the
