"Can you untie my hands and feet?" Kristina asked.
"Of course." He'd been too focused on keeping her safe to think about her being bound. He placed her on the ground and, using his dirk, carefully cut the thin ropes. "Are you hurt?"
"Nay. I thank you." She rubbed her reddish, chafed wrists.
"'Tis too dangerous for us to take you to the castle at the moment." But where could he take her? He knew of only one place.
Warton and the rest of his men crept quietly through the bushes and joined them. Colin was glad to see none of them were injured. Thankfully, the enemies near the shore hadn't spotted them yet.
"Come." Colin lifted Kristina into his arms again and slipped into the wood.
"Where are we going?" Warton asked quietly.
"I know a decent hiding place. Rusty, you and Patrick make sure no one follows us."
"Aye."
As they crept across the pine needles and the spongy forest floor, Colin glanced down at Kristina. 'Twas true she had a wide, puckered pink scar on her left cheek, but she was beautiful in spite of it. Or maybe because of it, for it gave her face character. It showed she had lived through a hellish experience and grown stronger because of it.
"Are you sure you're all right, Lady Kristina?"
Her unseeing blue eyes shifted toward his voice but remained unfocused. "Aye, I merely have some bruises and scrapes."
Unable to imagine what she'd endured, he admired her strength and fortitude. "You must have been terrified these last few days."
She nodded, her brow furrowed. "It has been an ordeal."
"And not being able to see must have made it far harder on you."
"Aye." She pulled her cowl over her head, hiding her face more. Mayhap he shouldn't have mentioned her blindness. Did it make her uncomfortable? Surely, she would expect that Anna had told him of her condition.
"You can relax now. We'll protect you with our lives." Colin strode faster amid the pine trees, increasing the distance between Blackburn's men and her.
"I thank you."
All Kristina could do at the moment was hold on and listen to the sounds of battle growing fainter behind them as this strong warrior carried her through what smelled like a pine forest. It was a cool, dank place that was somewhat sheltered from the wind. The men's footsteps on the forest floor were quiet thumps. She heard a few men moving along behind them and one in front.
They kept their voices low as they communicated in a West Highland dialect of Gaelic. Being from the east, she found Colin's voice and accent unusual and appealing. His deep, confident voice brushed over her senses like rich velvet. She wished more than anything she could look into his eyes. What color were they? Would she see compassion there, or pity? His voice sounded kind and concerned.
His arms, holding her securely, felt iron-hard and strong. When she turned her face toward him, his pleasant, masculine scent took over, far more appealing than the scent of pine needles. He smelled of some sort of spicy masculine soap.
She held on tightly around his neck, helping as much as she could. She hated appearing a helpless female.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To a good hiding place," Colin said quietly.
She knew that, but she wanted to know where, specifically.
He started climbing a hill or mountain. His breathing increased and his heart beat faster and harder against her, but his pace did not slow. The ride for her was much bumpier but she didn't mind. She thanked God for her rescuer.
Though mayhap 'twas sacrilege, she hoped Blackburn was killed in battle for what he'd done to her and Anna. He was the vilest and most vicious man she had ever encountered, and Holme wasn't much better.
After a few minutes of climbing farther and farther up what must have been a steep mountain, Colin said, "Here we are." He slowed and his breathing eased. 'Twas clear to her the ground was flat now.
She sniffed, drawing dank, musty air into her lungs.
They were no longer outside, for the men's voices echoed and the wind was blocked.
