Page 12 of The Son of a Highland Witch
He remembered the daub of mud upon her forehead when they met, and a corner of his mouth crept up in a smile despite himself. She had been quite fetching, all disheveled, her eyes wide in surprise. “I did nae say that.”
“Ye not be saying much at all. Perhaps if ye spoke more and were nae so stubborn, other people might nae be making up stories about ye.”
The smile faded. He turned to face her, crossing his arms across his chest, feeling the pulse tick in his forehead as he struggled to keep his composure.
“Ye dinnae ken what ye’re talking about.”
“I ken more than ye give me credit for,” she responded, drawing herself up until she was mirroring his stance, right down to the crossed arms.
Dimly, he was aware of the guards watching. Of the lady’s companion who was half out of the coach, ready to come to the defense of her, no doubt. Of the innkeeper, standing uncertainly at the door to the inn, her arms around her children.
“Leave it, my lady.” He uncrossed his arms, and, taking his horse’s bridle, drew the horse around that he might mount.
“Why? Is there truth to them after all?”
“Aye!” He whirled on her, leaning down to speak the words inches from her face so that she could understand them fully. “They nae be stories, lass. Not a one of them. Me mither were burned for a witch by the very people she tried to help. And as for me father?” His voice dropped; the smile he gave her was more of bared teeth than anything else. “I dinnae have one. Who knows, maybe he do be a wolf or some other suchmonster.”
She should have been scared. She should have cried or screamed or run away. It was what other women did when confronted with the truth of who he was. But she only looked at him, her face a trifle pale perhaps, but her gaze was steady upon him.
“Oh. I see.”
“Ye see.” He shook his head and put a foot in the stirrup to mount. “I be right glad I could clear that up for ye then.” He swung himself in the saddle and pulled the horse around. “Now that ye be seeing, perhaps ye might join yer lady in the coach?”
Her eyes were soft. “I will,” she said, and for a moment he wondered why she looked at him as though she might cry. He opened his mouth to ask when half of the guards shouted suddenly, pointing and screaming at him!
In the distance there came the sound of thundering hooves. Whoever was coming was riding in hard and fast.
They were under attack!
