Page 5 of A Flawed Scotsman

His friend chuckled. “I look forward to the spectacle.”

Chapter Two

Esme Fraser’s feet flew across the forest ground as she raced forward, barely dodging branches, her arms pumping hard. A low branch cut across her face and Esme groaned, but continued running. Hunters had been allowed on her father’s land and her pet doe had wandered out into the forest earlier.

Birds chirped around her, the small beasts enjoying the warm sun and plentitude of food from the low-growing berry bushes. Every sound they made annoyed her more and more.

Esme leaped over a fallen sapling and ran a few yards before stopping to listen. Letting out a whistle, she held her breath, hoping to hear sounds of an animal approaching. There was only silence.

She glared up at the trees when loud birdcalls alerted others of her presence. “Shush!” she called out as if the animals would understand.

Upon spying a broken branch, she let out a cry of relief and took off at a run again, sprinting between trees and jumping over rocks in the way. There was a clearing. In the distance, she heard men’s voices. At once annoyed and incredulous at their lack of remaining undetected, she sprinted toward them.

“Hey, there!” she called out to ensure not to be mistaken for an animal and be shot. “I must speak to ye,” Esme yelled. “Make yer presence known.”

First, one young man, then another came into view. They were familiar to her, two young village boys perhaps no older than five and ten.

“Lady Fraser,” one of them, a redhead, said, his eyes wide. “Whatever are ye doing out here?”

“Making sure ye do not hunt down any fawns,” she informed them, her breathing hard as she’d run a long way. “I have a pet fawn, ye see, and my father informed me he may have forgotten to inform ye of it.”

The other one nodded. “Indeed, he did not. We are hoping to catch rabbits or a young boar, Lady Fraser.”

“Very well,” she said, scanning the surroundings. Then having pity on the fact they’d catch neither as they were making too much noise, she decided to help them. “Come, I will show ye were to hunt. Do not speak.” She held up two fingers and motioned for them to follow.

Once they arrived at a spot where they could see a shallow creek, she crouched low to the ground and the two young men did the same. “Animals come here often. Ensure ye only kill for yer family. Ye know the rules. And do not dare hurt a fawn, it may be mine.”

“We will not hurt any wee deer,” the redhead replied, his eyes scanning forward. “Thank ye.”

The sense of dread did not leave even though Esme was sure the two would not kill her doe. Something felt amiss. There had been poachers about the woods regularly as of late. It had nothing to do with lack of food, but more because of the fact the larger clan whose lands bordered on theirs, regularly baited her father for a reaction. That larger clan wanted to take their land and pull them under the rule of Clan Mackenzie. For over a year now, her father had resisted. But it was proving fruitless.

The Mackenzie was powerful and unless her clan united with another of their choice, there was little that could be done to keep the much stronger clan from taking them over.

She stopped and listened. Her venturing so far into the forest, although a desperate measure to keep her wayward pet safe, had been foolish. Without guards, if she happened upon Mackenzies, it could prove very dangerous.

As the only daughter of Duncan Fraser, she was constantly followed by one or two guards. But in her haste to find little Dot, she’d slipped away alone. “Dot,” she hissed at hearing a rustle, only to chuckle when the doe’s head popped up with leaves hanging from its mouth.

“There ye are. Come now, we must return home.” The doe came to her and nudged her hand in an obvious request to be scratched behind the ears.

“No time for it.” Esme grabbed a strap she kept around the animal’s neck and pulled the doe along as she gauged the best way to get back home safely. “I am going to have to keep ye in a pen. This time, ye’ve wandered much too far.”

Dot’s head popped up, the doe as still as a statue, its ears twitching. It sniffed the air and then, as quick as lightning, bolted forward, pulling the strap from a startled Esme’s hand.

The undeniable sound of footfalls followed as men hurried through the woods. They must have caught sight of Dot because they rushed forward. If it was the same young men from earlier, she’d ensure her father banned them from hunting on their land ever again.

Not thinking, Esme hurried out from the foliage without saying anything. There was scuffling as if they hesitated and heard her.

“Stop at once,” Esme called out, just as an arrow flew through the air and pierced her left side. Moments later, a second one hit her in the lower stomach. Too shocked to feel anything at first, she tried to see who’d shot her, but her vision blurred. There were two of them, both men. That much she could tell as they burst out from behind the trees, their voices changing from low-pitched to alarmed whispers.

She attempted to pull at the arrow in her stomach, only to be engulfed in so much pain that she stumbled backward.

“Who is she?” one of the men asked the other.

“I believe it is Laird Fraser’s daughter,” the other replied.

Esme attempted to ask for help but could only moan as she stumbled backward again.

There was a moment of silence as they seemed to assess her for a long moment. “She won’t live.” They remained blurred and she blinked to try to see them, but it was futile.