Page 129 of Enchantment of a Highlander

He immediately complied, easing Saraid over onto her stomach, then stood and crossed his arms over his chest.

Celia tried to pull Saraid’s hair back from her face, but the woman stopped gripping her stomach and shoved her away.

“If you don’t do this yourself, I’ll have to do it,” Celia cautioned.

Saraid shook her head vigorously. Strings of saliva dripped in clear strands from her lips.

“Forgive me,” Celia said quietly.

Before the other woman could protest or react, Celia clamped the dark head in her arms. After making sure Saraid’s head was downward lest she choke, Celia wriggled her fingers along the back of Saraid’s tongue until the woman started to cough.

The coughing sounds gave way to a dry gag.

Almost there.

Celia focused on her fingers gliding through thick saliva, trying to go deep enough to induce a purge without causing harm.

A blade hissed free, a sharp, jarring sound despite the quiet whisper of it.

“What is this evil?” A masculine voice broke through her concentration and gripped all her attention.

She jerked her face in the direction of the speaker and all the hope bled from her body.

Laird MacDougall.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Alec cursed himself for letting his guard down. How the hell had MacDougall managed to sneak up so quickly, so silently?

Saraid stopped choking and slid from Celia’s hands. Her head rustled the grass softly where it fell forward.

She was not moving.

MacDougall’s hands curled into gnarled fists. “What have ye done?” He jerked toward the guards, who appeared suddenly ashen. “And what are ye louses doing standing there watching when ye should have killed them? Damn it, attack. Attack!”

The men leapt as one cohesive unit, barreling toward Alec.

Toward Celia.

Alec had just enough time to place himself between Celia and harm.

The first two men attacked at the same time. Alec lashed out with his own blade, swiping the air in a great arc that cut the path of their swords away from him in a metallic clang, clang.

The third man plunged his blade forward while the other two recovered. Fortunately his blow landed high enough for Alec to smoothly alter the direction of his own sword and block the blow.

“Go, Celia,” Alec said through gritted teeth.

The three Alec was fighting advanced again, all three blades working in his direction.

Parry.

Blow.

Lunge.

Duck.

Attack.