Nay!He felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. Her tear-filled eyes were too dark. The shape… different somehow. He had not seen her in a while, but surely he had not forgotten what she looked like. He dragged her closer to the heated light of the torch and searched her eyes, her face, turning it this way and that. With the gag through her mouth, he couldn’t see the shape of her lips.
“You’re not Seona! Who are you?” he demanded.
She mumbled against the gag.
“I’m going to cut the gag off, and if you scream or callattention, I’ll strangle you. Got it?”
Her eyes widened, but she nodded.
Taking hissgian dubh, he cut the cloth at the back of her head and threw it down. The area on either side of her mouth was red and chafed, but most alarming, her lips were not bow-shaped like Seona’s, but thinner.
“Who the devil are you?” Haldane snarled.
“Lady Talia Murray. Seona’s sister. Who are you?”
Haldane let loose a string of curses. How the hell could he have made such a grievous mistake, stealing the wrong sister?
“Never mind who I am. McMurdo!” Haldane shouted and carried the lass back to his horse.
“Aye?” McMurdo approached.
“We have to go back. This is the wrong lady. I want Seona, not her sister.” If he had to, he’d use the sister as bait to lure Lady Seona out.
∞∞∞
Keegan leapt up from the bed in the inn’s chamber and grabbed his sword, keeping his body between Seona and the door while she pulled on her smock. The bastards had near kicked the door off its hinges.
Two men wearing metal-studded leather armor entered, lugging a shirtless Rebbie between them, one of his arms around each of their necks. His head hung as if he’d been knocked out. Blood dripped down his chest.
“What the devil did you do to him?” Keegan demanded, hoping his friend wasn’t dead.
They tossed Rebbie on the bed.
Another man with short gray hair and a matching beard entered the room. They were all Murray’s men, one of them his personal bodyguard. They turned their attention to Keegan, smirking at his nakedness. He’d had to grab his sword instead of his plaid. He didn’t care. He could fight naked just as well as clothed.
All three drew their dirks, long lethal daggers. “Put your clothes on, you whoreson,” the black-haired one closest to him demanded.
Keegan slashed his sword at the knave, but he dodged back. Keegan kicked him backward into his friends. Within seconds, they righted themselves and were ready to charge him again.
“You’re outnumbered, MacKay,” the stout man with a gray beard said. “We have three more men downstairs. Don’t force us to kill you. The chief said he’d spare your life if you flee now and don’t look back.”
“Never.” Keegan knew a sword wasn’t the best weapon for this small space, but his dirk was in its scabbard on the floor by the bed.
He sent a quick glance at Rebbie, seeing blood glistening on his head. “Is he alive?”
“Of course. Are you thinking we’re daft enough to kill an earl? Nay, he’s to be Chief Murray’s son-in-law.” The man gave him a nasty grin. “Nay matter how well-hung you might be, MacKay, you’ll never marry that lady. We’re dragging you out of here, dead or alive. Your choice.”
Three more men stuck their heads in the door, leering and snickering.Bastards!Keegan wanted to slay them all, but he doubted he could before they killed him or injured him severely. He’d never gone up against six before.
Think, Keegan, think, he commanded himself. Damn! He felt like he had wads of wool in his head.
“Very well. Allow me to dress.” ’Haps he could buy himself some time if naught else.
“Dress, then. We’re waiting.”
“Wait outside the door.”
“Ha. Do you take us for fools?”
