Page 21 of Highland Ruse

“I know.” Her cheeks flushed red, and she glanced away in a way that could only be described as demure. This woman who had so sharp a tongue, who readily stood up for herself and always had something to say, actually appeared shy.

“You had a nightmare,” she said.

She stepped closer and gazed up at him. Light fell over her, showing the depth of rich brown of her eyes, which appeared almost black in the shadows of the coach.

A slight sprinkling of freckles showed across the bridge of her nose, so faint he’d not seen them until now when he was close enough to touch her. They would be so easily accomplished on the page with the barest of touches from his charcoal.

The scent of her floral perfume nudged at the recesses of his mind, and for one fleeting moment, he had the ghost of a memory of her in his arms—warm and sweet, the skin of her neck like silk beneath the brush of his lips.

“What’s happened to you?” She grazed his forearm with her fingertips. Her touch was delicate, and the heat of her palm seeped through the linen of his leine. “I think…” She paused and pursed her lips. “I think your dream has something to do with why you’re doing this.”

He swallowed.

There was so much to tell, so many years of anguish from MacKenzie. And then the idea of giving voice to what he’d seen the day of the massacre. It was too agonizing.

“It isna so easy, my lady.” Before he could stop himself, he brushed the pad of his thumb down her cheek, taking care to swipe over the freckle just beside her mouth. Her flushed skin was almost hot beneath his touch.

Elizabeth stepped back abruptly, putting a modest amount of space between them, and darted a glance toward the coach.

Leasa’s face jerked back from the window, and the coach gave a little sway.

“I assume what happened last night will not be repeated.” Elizabeth’s voice took on its usual haughtiness.

Though everything in him wanted to close the distance between them again, to repeat that gentle stroke on her cheek, Kaid held his ground. “Of course, my lady. Forgive me for my indiscretion.”

A hearty rustle came from the woods, capturing both their attention. Kaid touched the hilt of his blade and turned toward the sound in time to see two men emerge from the trees.

They were filthy, as though they’d been traveling for some time. Both wore kilts darted through with red and brown wool tartan, and their hair hung lank around their faces.

Kaid cast a quick glance toward Elizabeth. He never should have let her out of the coach. One word from her and these men would know she had been abducted.

Her face belied none of this.

“Good day,” Kaid said to the newcomers with a nod.

The taller of the two men nodded back in kind. “Ye having trouble with yer coach?”

Kaid kept his gaze fixed on the two men and hoped Elizabeth wouldn’t speak. “Just taking a rest.”

The shorter man made a show of looking around the forest. “Where are yer guards?”

The men gave each other a suspicious glance, and Kaid’s heart knocked into his ribs.

The taller one stepped forward. “I’ll take yer silence to mean it’s just the two of ye.”

The shorter man followed suit. “The lady is mighty fine for the likes of ye.”

Elizabeth edged toward the coach, and Kaid slid his blade from its sheath. The hissing glide of steel was loud in the silence and pulled both of the men’s attention toward him.

The taller one swept an axe from his belt and lunged at Kaid, who easily dodged the blow.

Behind them, the shorter man reached out to Elizabeth, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and snapped her toward him.

No.

Kaid’s mind swam and his palms went sweaty with anticipation. He would not lose this battle. He could not.

He swung downward, and his blade sliced through the air, glancing off the man’s arm.