The Devil Wears Plaid by Teresa Medeiros

Author:Teresa Medeiros
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: American Light Romantic Fiction, Fiction - Romance, English - Scotland, Kidnapping victims, Contemporary, Romance - Historical, Fiction, Romance, Romance: Historical, Historical, Historical fiction, American Historical Fiction, Clans - Scotland, General, Love stories, Popular science, Highlands (Scotland)
ISBN: 9781439157886
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2010-09-15T09:43:14.022000+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

HE’S ALWAYS REFUSED TO talk aboot it but I heard they was both found with their heads cleaved clean off.”

“Well, I heard the blade of a single claymore was rammed right through both their hearts.”

“What a lot o’ piddle and nonsense! If that was true, then why would they still be wanderin’ these woods with their bluidy heads tucked under their arms?”

Finishing off a tart chunk of cheese Muira had packed for their journey, Emma sidled closer to the circle of men seated around the fire, both appalled and transfixed by their gory gossip. A low-hanging mist was wending its way through the pale trunks of the birches that ringed the clearing. That same mist had forced Jamie to call a halt to their harrowing rush through the wood and order his men to make camp for the night. Despite their visible unease, they had complied with a minimum of grousing and grumbling. They might fear whatever haunted this wood but they also knew that to continue racing blindly through it would mean certain destruction for both their horses’ legs and their own necks.

Their voices were hushed, with none of the jovial banter or ribald taunts that usually marked their conversation. Instead of competing to see which one of them would be the first to drink too much whisky and pass out, they took furtive sips from the earthenware jug being passed from hand to hand, as if they didn’t wish to dull their wits on such a night.

Or in such a place.

As Malcolm—yes, Emma was quite sure it was Malcolm—cast a furtive glance over his shoulder, she could almost feel the damp, spectral fingers of the mist brushing the back of her own neck. She edged a few steps closer to the comforting glow of the campfire, inadvertently catching Bon’s eye.

Giving her a snaggle-toothed grin, he patted the stretch of fallen log next to him. “Come join us, lass, before the bogles creep in and carry ye off.”

“I’m afraid you’re too late, sir. They already did,” she retorted, drawing a chuckle from the other men.

When the fellow next to him failed to scoot over quickly enough to suit Bon, he earned a painful jab from Bon’s bony elbow. Emma settled herself gingerly between the two men on the log, an effort that would have been impossible in a corset and heavy petticoats.

Bon pried the jug of whisky from Malcolm’s hand and handed it to her. “Drink up, lass. ’Tis a good night fer a wee bit o’ liquid courage.”

Remembering her experience with Muira’s whisky-laced tea, Emma took a tentative sip of the stuff. It seared a fiery path from her throat to her gullet. She sucked in a desperate breath, tears scorching her eyes.

Bon gave her a hearty clap on the back, dislodging the cough trapped in her throat. “No need to be ashamed, lass. Scots whisky is fine eno’ to make even a grown mon weep with joy.”

Emma had no choice but to nod, since she was still incapable of speech.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.