Page 68 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

Gunfire pierced the air.

He twisted in the direction of their pursuers, then faced forward. “We will meet again.” Caroline gasped as he flung her from the saddle.

* * * *

Taran’s heart stopped. Fear twisted soul deep when the man shoved Caroline from his horse.

“No!” Taran bellowed.

She hit the ground. Blinding rage shoved aside the terror. He levelled his pistol on the man. Caroline shifted. Taran jerked his gaze onto her as she rolled to her knees. He swung his gaze back to the man who was riding as if a demon was on his heels—a demon was on his heels—then gritted his teeth against the primal urge to empty his pistol into him and stuffed the weapon back into his waistband.

“Get him!” Taran shouted, and veered in Caroline’s direction.

William and Huntly sped past.

She stumbled to her feet and took several sideways steps. She glanced in his direction, then unexpectedly shot towards the trees. Taran blinked in confusion. She doesn’t recognize me. Unreasonable laughter threatened. His wife was running from him. She reached the trees and disappeared into them an instant before he leapt from the saddle. Taran reached her in three heartbeats and seized her arm. She whirled, raking nails across his jaw.

He winced. “Caroline!” He yanked her to his chest.

She shoved at him, pounded with small fists against a shoulder. He hugged her close, forcing her to still. The tremble in her body sent another wave of rage through him. If William and Huntly didn’t catch the bastard who had tried to take the Viscountess of Blackhall from her own land, he would. Caroline had chastised him over his dawn appointments. There would be no gentleman’s score. The man would see his last sunrise. Taran bent and pressed his mouth to her ear. She stiffened, then pushed hard against his chest and began to struggle.

He tightened his hold. “Caroline, tis’ me, Taran.”

Her head snapped up. She groped his cheek, then trembling fingers slid across his lips. He closed his eyes and drank in the feel of the soft fingertips he’d feared would never touch him again. She sobbed and threw her arms around his neck.

“Shh,” he soothed with gentle strokes to her hair. “All is well.” But was it? What damage had the man done?

“No” she said through tears. “It is not all right. He…he…” Taran’s heart wrenched when she gulped air. “Cross Keys Inn—he followed us…followed me. He killed my father.”

Killed her father? “Who?” The highwayman? She wasn’t making sense. Her father had been gone nearly three years. Taran kissed her temple. “You are safe now.”

She shook her head stubbornly. “No.” Ragged breaths racked her body. “He promised to return for me.”

“Promised to return—Caroline, love, no highwayman would be foolish enough to

return.”

“He said we would meet again.”

“He will not escape Huntly and Edmonds,” Taran insisted.

Caroline shoved at his chest. “My father—” She struggled to break from his hold.

Taran grasped her shoulders. “Calm yourself and tell me what happened.”

“I have told you.” The irrational note in her voice frightened him. “He—my uncle—they killed my father.”

“Etherton? What has he to do with this?” Taran demanded.

“He said I would end up like my father.”

“End up like your father?” Taran repeated. Her father had died in a riding accident. Why would Caroline concoct a story of murder? Dread slammed through him. She wasn’t capable of such a lie. Etherton, however, was quite capable of murder. Caroline seized Taran’s arms. “My God.” “What is it?” he demanded.

Her nails bit into his biceps. “What if he harms you? Taran.” She spoke his name in a whisper. “What is one more murder to my uncle?”

“He cannot harm me.”

Hysterical laughter broke from her lips. “No? You risk too much.”