Page 81 of A Scot on Duchess Square
She tried to rise, for she needed to get out of the way or be trampled. Pangs of pain radiated outward from her ribs to her limbs and left her immobile.
She screamed, hoping to gain the attention of the horsemen. But there was too much noise amid the chaos and no one could hear her.
Oh, why had she not run to safety when she’d had the chance? Instead, she’d stupidly gone after that bounder to take back her stolen necklace. Its only value was sentimental.
Still, it was priceless to her.
The ground vibrated from the impact of thundering hooves almost atop her.
She closed her eyes and prayed for salvation.
In that same moment, someone scooped her up and hauled her out of the way of the massive, charging beasts. “Och, Miranda,” came Solway’s familiar, resonant voice with its lovely brogue. “What in blazes are ye doing here? Ye might have been killed. Are ye daft to come here?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on to him with all her might.
How could she have been so stupid as to delay admitting the obvious? Even the Good Lord knew Solway was the answer to her prayers.
He was her salvation.
“I love you, Bram Lanark. I love you so much and will do so for all the days of my life and even after I take my last breath. Even that is not enough to express how much I love you.”
“Ye came all the way here to tell me that? Och, I already know this.” But he gave her a hug and then let out a deliciously feral growl. “Ye’re mine, Miranda. I knew we were destined the moment I set eyes on ye.”
Only a moment ago she had been quaking with fear and facing certain death.
She held on to him even tighter, knowing she would always be safe in his arms. This was exactly where she wanted to be.
Why had she been so foolish as to ever deny her love for this handsome Scot?
“There’s more, so much more I must tell you,” she insisted, still holding on to him with all her might as he carried her to relative safety against the building’s wall. However, they were not out of danger yet. The angry crowd and soldiers were still fighting around them, so there was no going forward to the Parliament entrance or backward to the street where she had left her carriage just yet. “Bram, I’m so sorry I was mean to you in front of my friends.”
“Ye weren’t mean to me, love. Ye weren’t ready, that’s all,” he said, all the while keeping his gaze on the fighting going on in front of them.
He shielded her from a retreating protester, pushing the man away when he tried to punch Solway for no reason other than he was dressed as a gentleman.
But Bram was a Scot and no gentleman. He landed a blow that left the man reeling.
A soldier grabbed the scoundrel and dragged him off.
“Bram! Look out!”
Two more men tried to jump atop him.
“Bollocks,” he grumbled, and set her securely behind him before taking on those ruffians.
More punches were thrown, mostly by Bram, who quickly dispatched his attackers with a few forcefully accurate jabs. His lip was bloodied by the time he’d knocked those men out.
Miranda gaped as those scoundrels were taken by the collar and dragged away by the Parliament guards.
As the rioters were pushed back a safe distance, Bram reached for her hand. “I think it is safe to head inside now.”
“No! Not yet.” She fell to her knees and began to scour the area for her lost necklace, which she knew had fallen from the thief’s hands during the melee.
Bram knelt beside her, his regard quizzical as he watched her crawl on her knees on the ground. “What in blazes are ye doing?”
“One of those ruffians tried to steal my necklace.” She bent her head slightly so he could see the welt on her neck. “I tried to stop him, but he grabbed it and ran away. Then one of the soldiers grabbed him and I saw him drop the necklace. It must still be here.”
“By all that’s holy… Ye were going to risk yer life for a trinket purchased at a market?”
