Page 4 of Lady and the Scot

Upon noticing her regard, Elsbeth leaned forward to take Breena's hand. "I am so sorry about your situation. I wish it were different for your sake."

Breena did not want to dwell on her circumstances. "What of you, Elsbeth. Are you spoken for?"

"Not yet." The young woman shrugged. "My da is always seeking someone, but my luck has been rather...lacking."

Grisella laughed. "My daughter is quite a spitfire. It will be a very patient man who will take responsibility for her."

"I will not marry a simpleton who drools over his ale," Elsbeth said and gasped realizing she'd just described Robertson.

In spite of the blunder, which made Grisella give her daughter a stern look, Breena giggled. "Aye, I can understand that."

The women laughed until the men looked to them.

Later that evening, Ita informed her while helping her undress, "The laird is asleep. He's snoring like a boar." The maid did not measure her words and Breena could not find the energy to correct her.

She slid between the bed coverings, her eyes already drooping from exhaustion. The McNeil women, although endearing, would not help her get away from Robertson. The man at the inn had not helped her, but he seemed to be concerned for her welfare.

Why could she not be handfasted to someone like him? He was a handsome one. Tall with a fine physique. His burnished hair fell to his wide shoulders and those eyes, piercing. As if he could see straight into a person's soul.

It had taken her a moment to realize the colors of his eyes did not match. One was a bright clear green, the other closer to amber. Somehow in those few brief moments, when he'd shielded her with his large body, protecting her from the advancing guards, she'd felt more secure than ever in her entire life. A man like him would not only protect his woman, but also ensure her well-being, putting her above others. Something Robertson would never do. The boar of a man cared only for himself. He was cruel to others, finding glee in the pain he caused.

Before she lay with him, she'd either escape or kill herself.

Chapter Three

The loud booms on his door jerked Aiden awake. Two of his guardsmen stormed into the chamber. "Laird, the village is under attack." Their chests rose and lowered with their heavy breathing. "Four of our men have gone to see about helping. I believe the other laird's guards have been dispatched as well."

Moraig has been dormant too long. Although he knew his neighbor's guards trained daily to remain in fighting form. Yet they'd become too comfortable. Peace could only last as long as they could defend themselves against attacks and ensure any marauders understood Moriag was not without protection.

His steed's hooves pounded the ground as he and the two guardsmen rode hard toward the village. The eerie glow of the flames from burning buildings forced them faster.

When they arrived, the guardsmen were busy putting fires out. There were no attackers anywhere. He went to where Declan Gordon stood talking to Ian.

"What happened?"

"They attacked and left. Almost as if they didn't want to be confronted. Four people are dead and many injured. They say it was a band of about five and twenty men."

"We have more than that combined," Aiden responded. "Even without the McNeil and Campbell."

Ian kicked at a stone and watched men carry an injured person across the courtyard to where the wounded were being cared for. "I say we rush after them and attack. Why do we stand here and do nothing."

The McNeil neared. "Because we are smarter than that. We must convene together and plan."

The Gordon nodded. "Let's split into two groups and go after them. They went north from what the villagers say."

The Lairds split into groups of ten and twenty men and rode out, leaving a small group behind to keep the village safe. Aiden hated to admit the possibility of battle made the blood course through his veins faster, giving him energy he'd not felt in the years since he'd come to Moriag to oversee his inheritance.

"Over there!" someone called out and they turned in the direction the man indicated. The attackers were prepared, no doubt heard them coming and rushed to them head on.

Swords clashed, metal against metal. The mixture of human growls and horse whining filled the air. The intruders were battle ready, obviously the type that spent time in the battlefield and not just training daily like his men. They did not hold back, but struck with intent to kill.

A loud whistle sounded and the attackers immediately pulled back. They turned away and fled into the darkness.

They gave chase, but were forced to give up when called back by the other lairds. Aiden looked to the others. "I believe they are leaving our lands, not to return. Let us find our injured and go back."

The Gordon held up his right hand to get their attention. "If you see one of theirs is not dead, take them as prisoners. Do not kill them." They did not find any injured attackers; those left behind had been killed.

Soon they headed back to the McNeil keep, the largest and nearest. The injured guardsmen were setup in cots in the courtyard so a healer could care for them. The women and elderly in the keep rushed out to help. The dark haired beauty from the inn came down a stairway. She hesitated at the bottom, her eyes immediately locked to the entryway of the keep.