Highlander's Torn Bride (Highlander's Seductive Lasses Book 2) by Adamina Young

Author:Adamina Young [Young, Adamina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Highlander's Seductive Lasses, Ancient Civilizations, Historical Scottish-Irish Romance, Historical Romance, Women's Fiction, Regency & Victorian Era, 17th Century, Forever Love, Bachelor, Single Woman, Medieval & Ancient World, Thrillers & Suspense, Mystery & Intrigue, Protection & Safety, Action & Adventure, Dangerous & Deadly, Romantic Suspense, Life-Changes, Second Chance Reunion, Highlander, Rough & Tumble, Fantasy, Lifetime Love, Romantic Schemes, Mysterious Scottish Highlands, Dark Ages
Publisher: Adamina Young
Published: 2019-07-17T04:00:00+00:00

6

“Unhand me!” Margaret cried for the hundredth time, lifting her elbow up to crack it down on the man’s back. He was wearing Mackay tartan, but that had clearly been a rouse, one she had realized too late.

“Christ, woman, knock it off,” he shouted in return before he stopped and dropped her.

“What’re ye doin’? We canna hurt her,” his partner said, though he contradicted himself by rushing forward to bind Margaret’s arms to her side with a piece of heavy rope before moving to then bind her legs together.

“Even a noble lass needs a good beating now and again,” the first said.

The man tying her, whose pockmarked face was far too close to hers, said, “We’re tryin’ to help you, donna ye ken?”

“Oh yes, this all seems like help to me,” Margaret replied. “The binding has given it away.”

“Tisn’t my feelings that matter,” the first man said, “but yer far bonnier when ye speak less.”

“Apologies, I’ll try to be bonnier when I am next stolen away by outlaws.”

Without another word of reply, the man bent over and slung her back over her shoulder, ignoring her renewed attempts at freeing herself, which could now be nothing more than her wiggling like a fish on a dock. No matter how much Margaret protested, screamed, and wiggled, the men would not say anything further. Only occasionally did they pass any comment between them, and that was usually a remark on whether or not they thought any of the men that they had left behind would return unscathed and, if so, whom.

When the attack had come, Margaret had done her best to follow Alexander’s instructions. But, before she could follow Ann under one of the carts, these men stopped her and told her that it would be better if the two women hid under different carts. Margaret—who had since realized that her father had put too much emphasis on frivolous things in her education, such as business and mathematics, rather than more practical things, such as defensive war tactics—had believed them. But they hadn’t ever let her hide under a cart, for the had grabbed her and made a break for the trees as soon as Ann could no longer see their feet.

The pair carried her through the forest for well over an hour, and the sun had turned the shadows long by the time that she started to hear other voices. Some were in pain, she knew, from the way they grimaced or cried out. Others were jovial, unsympathetic to their friends dying beside them. Margaret did her best to look around from her vantage point, but it was now far too dim in the forest to see anything but the bright light of their campfires cutting through the trees.

The man carrying her paused for only a second before she heard him grunt and then heard a soft, groaning creek of a door being opened in protest. The man carried her inside the building and then dropped her again. Margaret prepared herself for

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