Page 7 of Claimed By a Savage Scot
“How did ye get interested in that?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“D’ye nae recall? It was Elaina who got me interested in it before I even went tae the priory.” Elaina was Duncan’s wife and her dear friend.
“Aye, I remember,” he replied, recalling that the two women were good friends. Or rather, they had been until Torcall Sinclair had upended Catriona’s life and she had been forced to flee to the priory to hide from him.
“She’s a wonderful lassie, Elaina,” he added with a fond chuckle, thinking of Duncan’s lively wife and her sometimes tiresome habit of fussing over her husband. “She loves tae torment poor Duncan with her potions and poultices if he gets so much as a scratch durin’ trainin’,” he added jokingly.
“Ye can laugh, but it shows how much she cares about him,” Catriona staunchly defended her friend.
Malcolm shrugged, secretly impressed by her loyalty. “Enough talk, let’s get goin’.”
He picked up the pace, heading for the perimeter wall, grunting his grudging approval when she jogged along to keep up with him.
“Is that why ye didnae flinch when I killed that soldier back there?” he asked, scanning the surroundings as the perimeter wall came into view between a line of apple trees. No one was about.
“I’m nae scared of blood because I’ve seen it every day in the infirmary. Death too,” she added. Her voice was far too sad for one so young and lovely, in Malcolm’s opinion.
They reached the wall, which was a good eight feet high.
“How will I get over that?” she asked, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she looked it up and down.
“Lucky fer ye, ye have a knight in shinin’ armor tae help ye,” he said, amused by her gasp of surprise when he picked her up by waist and lifted her effortlessly to the top of the wall. He waited until she got her balance, noticing that, for some unfathomable reason, her face had turned bright pink. He figured it was because she was scared.
“Swing yer legs over tae the other side,” he instructed.
She snorted in disgust. “Lord help me, I kenned I should nae have trusted ye, Malcolm Gordon,” she murmured, gingerly shifting herself around so she faced the other way. She wobbled for a moment then steadied herself. “I suppose me knight in shinin’ armor is gonna get me down as well, is he?” she asked tightly.
“Ye always were a sharp one, Catriona.” Malcolm chuckled as he stuck his boot in a crevice and hoisted himself up the wall with ease. For a brief moment, they sat side by side on top of the wall before he slid down the other side, his boots hitting the ground with a soft thud.
“Come on and jump then, lass. I’ll catch ye,” he told her, holding up his arms.
Her flush deepened. “Thank ye, but mayhap I can get down by mesel’,” she replied stiffly.
He frowned. “Aye, if ye wantae break yer leg and be taken by Sinclair’s men. Now, stop wastin’ time and jump, will ye?”
She looked at the drop once more, then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Ach, very well.”
At that moment, there was a great roar and shouts and screams rose up from the direction of the priory. Looking up, Malcolm saw thick columns of smoke filling the sky.
“Oh God! There’ll be naught left of the place by mornin’. What are they daein’ tae the nuns?” Catriona cried, her face crumpling as she craned her neck to look behind her.
Malcolm was glad she could not see anything because he feared the worst. “Even Sinclair wouldnae dare tae hurt nuns,” he lied, prepared to say anything to sway her to come to him. He only wanted to be gone. “Jump, lass!” he barked urgently, curling his fingers in a beckoning gesture. “Jump!”
Something in his appeal must have convinced her. For she took one swift glance behind her, then fixed her eyes upon him, pushed away from the wall, and launched herself at him.
A moment later, Catriona landed in Malcolm’s strong, muscular arms, a whoosh of breath leaving her lungs.
“Well done, lass,” he said, placing her on her feet, waiting while she steadied herself before letting go and starting to walk. “Let’s hurry and get out of here. I’ve stashed me horse up ahead aways. ’Tis a few miles walk, but if we hurry and then ride hard, we could be at me keep before light.”
Catriona stopped dead, forcing him to do the same. She faced him, her eyes full of mistrust. “What? Ye think ye’re takin’ me tae Castle Gordon? But I wantae go home, tae see Duncan. I’m nae goin’ tae yer keep,” she told him, her voice rising.
In the interests of peace and cooperation, Malcolm tamped down his angry response and tried to put himself in her shoes.
“Duncan asked me specifically tae take ye back tae me keep and make sure ye’re safe until he can come and fetch ye or send fer ye. He’s very worried about the threat Sinclair would pose if he found out ye’re on the road moving towards him. He could try tae snatch ye. So, even though ye’re nae happy about it, I’m followin’ Duncan’s orders and tryin’ me best tae protect ye.”
Her brows drew together as she considered this. “When ye put it like that, I suppose I have nay choice but tae go with ye,” she said finally, though a hint of defiance lingering in her eyes.
Malcolm breathed a secret sigh of relief. “Well, thank ye, I feel honored, milady,” he replied, quirking his lips sardonically.“Now come on and move yer feet. Every minute we stand here debatin’, the more chance there is of Sinclair’s men findin’ us.”
