The Highlander's Stronghold (Searching for a Highlander Book 1) by Bess McBride

Author:Bess McBride [McBride, Bess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bess McBride
Published: 2016-11-16T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I stifled a gasp, and my heart dropped to my stomach. A knot formed in my throat, threatening to choke me. Hot tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t dare wipe at them.

“Take the dagger, lass,” John said.

He didn’t feel like I did at all, did he? Of course he didn’t. Why should he? I was the sap who had fallen in love in the space of a day, hours, maybe even minutes.

I continued to stare out to sea.

“Lass, please.”

At the pleading in John’s voice, I almost reached for the knife. I would do anything for him, anything. Well, almost anything.

A hand touched my cheek, turning my face toward him. I caught a faint hint of a wince as he twisted his body to reach for me. His pain made me speak.

“Not today,” I whispered. “Not today, John. Can’t it wait until you come back? I don’t think I could bear to leave and not know you returned safely.”

John traced the line of my jaw with his fingers. Rough and calloused, his touch made my heart race.

“In fact, let me go with you!”

John dropped his hand and shook his head.

“Och, lass, ye canna. If the Macleod kens ye are with us...if he sees ye...” John finished neither statement.

“Really, John, I don’t matter to him. Please let me go with you.”

“We dinna take womenfolk on raids, lass.”

I blew out a breath of air in frustration.

“Well, I can’t just sit here and worry about you.”

“Nor do I wish to travel away and fash about yer welfare, Ann. I would no fash if ye went home.”

No, no, he wouldn’t, would he? John didn’t feel the same about me. Knowing that his heart wasn’t breaking like mine gave me the strength to fight him.

“Unless you stick that dagger in my palm and wrap your hand around it to force me to go, I’m not going!”

John drew in a sharp breath.

“Then ye wish to stay? Forever?”

I couldn’t commit to that. Not forever. In the sixteenth century? I said nothing.

John sighed heavily, picked the dagger up and stuck it into its sheathe.

“I dinna understand ye, Mistress Borodell. No at all. Come! Help me rise, and give me no lectures on my weakness. All I require to set me right is more whisky.”

I stood and did my puny best to pull John to his feet, though he had to do most of the work. I had to admit that he did better if he kept moving. His wounds seemed to stiffen when he rested.

We returned to the keep, where John refused to lay down, opting instead to sit in a chair. I poured him some whisky, and he drank it. Taking the seat across from him, I studied him surreptitiously, trying to memorize his face. I suspected that I wasn’t going to convince him to let me accompany them. Why would he if women traditionally didn’t accompany them?

He seemed about to say something, but a knock on the door signaled Andrew, who brought some food from his aunt, Torq’s sister.

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