The Highlander's Norse Bride: A Novella: Book 4 in the Hardy Heroines Series by Cathy MacRae & DD MacRae

Author:Cathy MacRae & DD MacRae [MacRae, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Short Dog Press
Published: 2018-03-17T05:00:00+00:00

Hanna lifted her chin. “I saved Gillian today. Mayhap she would have merely received an unwelcome dunking had I not grabbed her. But I could not risk her being crushed between the ship and the pilings. If ye wish to believe this rabble,” she nodded to the two scowling men, “’tis your privilege.”

The shipmaster took a step forward. “If I may, my laird, from my viewpoint, the lady dinnae attempt to harm the bairn.” He nodded at Hanna. “And it appears she harmed herself trying to save wee Gillian.”

Hanna lifted fingers to her cheek where angry red streaks spoke of striking the wooden boards as she grabbed Gillian.

“Da, Hanna wouldnae hurt me. She doesnae even scold me—much.” Gillian’s small voice settled on Alex’s heart and his apprehension melted.

“I will speak with Eric later,” he said, indicating the man who’d accused Hanna. “For now, I wish to be alone with Hanna and Gillian. The rest of ye may leave.”

Laird MacLean had every appearance of a patient man, but those around him vanished quickly at his dismissal. Gillian released Bjarne and moved to Hanna’s side, gripping her skirts in one grubby fist as she leaned against Hanna’s legs.

“Da, dinnae be angry with Bjarne. He dinnae know he couldnae leap the gap.”

Angry with the dog? The laird is angry with me. Hanna wondered at Gillian’s judgement.

“I am not angry with any of ye,” the laird said. “Unless mayhap with the man who accused Hanna.”

“He is wrong,” Gillian replied matter-of-factly. “Hanna wouldnae hurt me. Hanna likes me.”

The laird’s gaze moved to Hanna. “Is this true?”

“I do like her,” Hanna said. Her voice dropped in timbre. “And, aye, the man is wrong.”

Gillian smiled happily. “Good! Scold him, Da, and he willnae do it again.” She lifted her face to Hanna. “Can we go back? I’m hungry.”

Hanna met the laird’s gaze.

“Go back to the hall, Gillian,” he said. “We will follow.”

With a snap of her fingers to beckon Bjarne, Gillian skipped up the path, her troubles quickly shed. Hanna eyed the laird warily.

“Who accused me?”

He gave her a blank stare.

“Other than that man ye named Eric,” she clarified. “Why did ye rush here?”

“A woman from the kitchen worried Gillian was in danger.”

His prevarication irked Hanna. “A woman—and I believe I know who—turned ye against me so easily? Had I gone to your bed last night, would ye have kept a dagger beneath your pillow? Ye would bed me but not trust me?”

“I always keep a dagger,” he replied. “But if I dinnae trust ye, I would have hidden it beneath the mattress.” He shook his head. “Hanna, if there was no trust between us, I wouldnae invite ye to my bed. I dinnae glean added pleasure from danger. I prefer to assume I will wake with my parts intact.”

Despite her cold anger at his seeming betrayal at a mere whisper from an envious source, Hanna had to suppress her smile. It would take cunning to best this man. She would not subdue him with brute strength. So far, she’d only encountered a gentle touch from him.

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