My Heart's in the Highlands by Angeline Fortin

Author:Angeline Fortin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: My Personal Bubble LLC
Published: 2012-12-18T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

The creak of a loose floorboard woke Ian instantly from a restless sleep but before he could react, a cloth was slapped over his mouth and nose by a brutally strong hand and Ian took a quick intake of breath in surprise. And exhaled quickly. After years on the battlefields in Crimea, Ian recognized the sweet, pungent scent instantly. Chloroform.

Bloody hell.

Holding his breath, he grasped the wrist of his attacker and pulled with all his strength. His assailant was not expecting a response, it seemed. His hand lifted an inch before he realized what Ian was about. A split second Ian might have had to take a breath, but the cloth remained over his mouth. Using his superior leverage, the assailant forced Ian back down, but Ian wasn’t a weak man by any means and all those years at war had proven him a survivor.

Wrapping his hands around the man’s wrist, Ian used his own weight to roll to the side, dragging the attacker with him in an attempt to break his hold. Despite holding his breath, Ian could already feel his skin tingling in reaction to the chloroform’s fumes. Though his assailant fought against the motion, Ian pushed against the bed with all his strength until he was able to roll over the side. His unsupported weight pulled his attacker with him to the floor. The cloth was lost and Ian dragged in a deep breath.

Shaking his head to clear the fog that had been building, Ian stumbled to his feet, ready to fight, but the man was there with the cloth ready again, trying to cover his mouth once more. Ian was no longer in an indefensible position, however. Jabbing his elbow back, he caught the assailant’s midsection and was rewarded with a grunt as the man took a step back, leaving Ian able to turn and ready to fight.

But though they seemed well matched in size, the man was apparently disinclined to compete with a fully cognizant opponent or perhaps a completely nude one. He turned, running for the door. Ian was on him immediately, hitting him behind the knees. Falling to the floor on top of him, Ian pinned him down with a knee in his back and hissed into the near darkness as he twisted the man’s arm behind his back: “Who sent you? What do you want?”

“Just finishin’ me job, mate,” came the hoarse answer, but it could not mask the Cockney accent of a Londoner. “Weren’t expectin’ ye to fight back.”

“What were you expecting?” Ian growled, pulling his arm higher. “Knock me out and what then?”

“If the chloroform didn’t do ye in, it was o’er the balcony wi’ ye,” the would-be assailant revealed with unanticipated honesty, then added with a shrug, “Nothin’ personal, guv’nor, a job’s a job.”

“I appreciate your candor,” Ian bit out sarcastically. “While you’re being so forthcoming, might I have the name of your employer?”

“No name, jus’ another swell w’ five quid too many.” The man struggled beneath Ian, rocking from side to side in an attempt to knock Ian off of him.

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