Page 28 of In the Highlander's Bed

His young lieutenant didn’t hear him. He was busy smooching his Sylvie. Thomas and Brian were boasting of how Gordon had walked into the school, which according to their stories was surrounded by a brigade of English and the fighting had been fierce.

They talked like they always did. Shoring themselves up. He knew it’s what men did. Theylied. He thought it harmless, except now they had a witness to those lies. Constance stood tall and slender, as regal as a princess—and with a mind as lethal as a barrister’s.

“Robbie!”Gordon snapped.

No one ignored him when he spoke in that tone. Everyone went silent.

Robbie straightened to attention, practically in mid-kiss. “Yes, Gordon?”

Now that he had the lad’s attention, he tempered his voice, “Take our Miss Constance Cameron to—” He hesitated, searching the crowd for the right people to keep watch over a young woman of independent sensibilities and who would be immune to her charms.

His gaze fell on Old Rae Reivers and his wife, Emma. Rae had been a sergeant in the king’s army until he broke his back. But even hunched over as he was, he was tough as shoe leather and one of the most unrelenting men Gordonhad ever met. His wife was just as callous. They’d be perfect wardens for Constance.

“Rae, you have charge of our captive until this matter is through,” Gordon ordered. “I want her treated humanely. Let her have no complaint against us when she is returned to her kinsman. However, don’t trust her for one moment.”

Rae stepped forward, proud to be singled out for the task. Because of his back, Gordon had not found much use for him in the daily activities of the camp. However, this task was perfect. “You can count on me and mine, Gordon.”

“I thought I could,” Gordon answered. “Robbie, escort our hostage to Rae’s. And bind her hands first,” he threw out, as if it meant nothing to him.

Constance’s back stiffened. As Robbie bound her hands, she glared at Gordon as if she’d been betrayed. Perhaps shehadknown her impact on him, he thought. Perhaps she’d been ready for him to play Samson to her Delilah.

Well, it was time she recognized that she was nothing more than a prisoner, a means to an end. Her opinion didn’t matter. She was beneath his notice.

And he would keep his distance from her until Colster exchanged her for the sword.

Robbie took Constance by the arm to escort her to Rae’s tent, but she shook him off. “I can walk,” she said. “Lead the way.”

Robbie glanced at Gordon, who nodded for him to do as she bade. Constance didn’t wait. She turned to Rae and ordered, “Go on. I’m your charge. Take me where you will.”

To Gordon’s frustration, Rae dutifully did as commanded. His wife, Emma, and Robbie fell in behind Constance as the rest of the clan backed away, allowing them to pass.

There was no small amount of curiosity about her. Necks craned and there was a good deal of whispering. In return, Constance stared them down with just the right hint of disdain on her face.

Any concerns Gordon had about the impact of kidnapping her were laid to rest. She was a survivor, like himself. She’d never let anyone get the best of her.

But then Mad Maggie jumped into her path. Maggie’s wild, unkempt hair was the color of the winter moors and her eyes burned with the fire of anger. She carried a rag doll under her arm wherever she went. ’Twas her “baby,” and she spent her days cooing and rocking it.

At Nathraichean, Laird MacKenna had forced Maggie to live in the woods, always keepingher away from his followers. Many here had wanted Gordon to continue the exile. They said she scared their children, but it was usually the adults Gordon caught crossing themselves whenever Maggie came near.

Gordon took a step forward, not trusting the look in Maggie’s eye. However, before he could intervene, he was stopped in his tracks by the bounding energy of a huge Irish wolfhound. Tad had obviously been out hunting. His huge paws were wet as he came up on his hind legs and placed them on Gordon’s shoulder. “Down—” Gordon started to say, but was stopped by a big slobbering dog kiss.

The crowd roared their amusement while Tempest, his horse, pawed the ground and snorted disapproval. There was no love lost between Gordon’s pets.

Gordon pushed Tad to the ground with a scratch behind his ears and ordered Tempest to behave with a low, “Here now.” The horse stopped pawing but kept his ears pinned back.

However, Gordon’s humor vanished when he heard Maggie’s keening voice as cold as the wind over all the good-natured advice his clansmen were giving on dog training. They heard the sound, too, and stopped laughing.

Maggie stood in front of Constance, shaking her “baby” at her. “Send her away,” she said. “Dispel her. Send her away.” Maggie raised a fist as if to strike Constance.

Rae and Robbie stepped back in fear, but Gordon moved just in time to place himself between Maggie and Constance. He fended off the blow with his forearm, surprised by Maggie’s strength.

Tad growled, ready to lunge, but Gordon ordered him back with a sharp, “Down.” The wolfhound went to the ground.

“Have done, Maggie, what are you doing?” Gordon said.

At his sharp words, Maggie crouched in front of him, raising her arms in fear. The doll fell to the ground. “Don’t hit me, Gordon. Don’t hit me.”

“I’ve never touched you, Maggie,” Gordon said, defending himself.