Chapter 1
Near Falkirk, Scotland, Spring 1607
Second thoughts?
Flora MacLeod turned her gaze from the window to peer into the darkness at the man seated opposite her. She never had second thoughts, whichgiven that it was too late to change her mindshe supposed was a good thing. No, once she made a decision, she stuck with it. A small army couldnt turn her from her course. In the matter of her marriage, there was no exception.
Dont be silly, she replied. I couldnt be happier.
It was clear, however, that her soon-to-be husband, William, Lord Murray, son of the newly created Earl of Tullibardine, didnt believe her. Happy? I havent seen you so subdued in months. He paused. Its not too late to turn back, you know.
But it was. Shed made her decision the moment shed snuck out of Holyrood House and scrambled into the waiting carriage.
I dont want to turn back. But the vehemence shed intended was lost when her voice vibrated with the clattering carriage. A carriage that was fighting to stay upright on the uneven road. She grabbed the seat as best she could when they hit another bump and tried not to crash sidelong into the glossy, wood-paneled walls. A battle she was sure to lose before this day was done. The road leading from Edinburgh would only get worse as they neared the parish of Falkirk.
Maybe we would have been better off riding after all? she ventured. It was at Lord Murrays insistence that theyd taken the carriageluxurious, but impractical on the road to the Highland divide.
No need to worry on that account. Were perfectly safe. My coachman is an excellent driver. William tried to hand her back her purse, which had slid off the bench beside her, but it slipped through her fingers, landing on the floor again. He laughed. I never thought Id see the day that Flora MacLeod was nervous.
Her mouth twitched, caught. Perhaps I am a bit anxious. Ive never done this before, you know.
He gave her hand a friendly pat. I should hope not. But no need to worry, everything is all arranged. It shouldnt be much longer now.
She sat back against the seat and tried to relax. If all went according to plan, in a few hours she would be Lady Murray. Lord MurrayWilliam, she reminded herselfhad found a minister willing to preside over the clandestine marriage ceremony without proclaiming the banns. Every man had his price, and for the minister of the St. Marys Kirk it happened to be a cask of fine claret and five hundred merks. More than enough to soften the blow of any fine that might be levied against him for performing the irregular marriage ceremony.
An irregular marriage was Floras only option. She would not take a chance that one of her brothers, or her powerful cousin, would hear of her plans beforehand and try to stop her.
If she had to marry, she thought grimly, it would be a man of her choosing.
She cursed the fates for putting her in this position. She had no desire to marry at all. But it was her great misfortune to be half-sister to not one, but two powerful Highland chiefs. And if that werent enough, her cousin was the most influential Highlander in Scotland. But this marriage prize, as she was infuriatingly referred to, would rather avoid the state altogether. Marriage brought nothing but unhappiness.
Her mothers misery was all too fresh in Floras mind.
But about the only thing worse than being married was being forced to marry. So rather than risk the alternative, shed decided to take the matter of her husband in her own hands. In this case by riding at breakneck speed through the countryside to find a minister of questionable repute in an out-of-the-way parish where she would not be recognized.
She gazed sidelong at the man seated opposite her. Even in the darkness of the carriage she could see the silvery sheen of blond hair cascading across a face that could only be described as sublime. But though he was undeniably pleasing to the eye, it was not his looks that had made her decide to accept his proposal. Nor was it his wit and intelligence, of which he also had a superfluity. It was because William had wealth, power, and position of his ownhe did not need hers. She had no need to question his motives beyond what hed stated: Their union was of friends who would seek their mutual advantage by their union.
As an added boon, he didnt seem particularly concerned with Highland politics. And of that subject, shed heard her fill. The lessons of the mother had indeed been well learned by the daughter. She would sooner marry a toad than a Highlander.
And Lord Murray was infinitely more appealing than a toad.
And what of you, William. Any second thoughts?
None whatsoever.
Dont you worry what will happen when they discover
Is that what this is about? He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. You wrote the letters, did you not?
She nodded. One good thing about having so many relatives was that there were many places she could claim to be with none the wiser. Fortunately, the one person who might question her whereaboutsher cousin Elizabeth Campbellwas on Skye attending to the birth of Floras latest nephew. The second son in as many years of her half-brother Alex and his wife, Mega wife Flora had never met. Her mother had been too ill to travel the year theyd come to court.
Then there is no reason to assume they will find out, William said confidently. And thanks to your disguise, no one will have noticed you leaving the palace.
Noting the direction of his gaze, she touched the white linen cap she wore on her head. She grinned, amused by the image she must present. Flora was well-known for her propensity to find mischief at Holyrood House. But sneaking out of the palace at midnight to elope with one of the most powerful young men at court, dressed as a maidservant, was sure to top all that had come before. Shed outdone herself. And coming from the girl whod once donned breeches and climbed halfway down the parapet beneath her balcony at Castle Campbell before her cousin Jamie caught her, that was saying something.
Uncomfortably aware of the scratchy woolen dress she was wearing that poked right through the fine linen of her shift, she asked, You were able to pick up my gown?
As charmingly rustic as you look, my dear, I hardly think the future Countess of Tullibardine should be married dressed as a servant. Your gown is in the trunk, though procuring it from your dressmaker did take some explaining.
Flora chuckled, thinking of the dour Frenchwoman. The courts preference for French fashion was the one lasting legacy from the reign of Mary Queen of Scotsother than her son, King James, of course. It seemed the easiest thing to do. I could hardly sneak it out with me. Madame de Ville already thinks me horribly indecorous. I doubt anything you could say would change her opinion. Indecorous was probably an understatement. Flora had a reputation at court for being more than a touch unruly.
Fortunately, William had never seemed to be bothered by her reputation. If anything, her penchant for finding trouble seemed to amuse him. After news of tonights events spread, he was going to need that sense of humor. Their elopement was sure to cause a scandal far greater than anything shed ever managed before.
She bit her lip. He was taking a risk. Not much older than her four and twenty years, hed already made a name for himself in King Jamess northern court. He wielded considerable influence among the privy councillorsthe men left in charge while the king wooed his recalcitrant English subjects at Whitehall. Eloping with the Earl of Argylls cousin, and the half-sister of Rory MacLeod and Hector Maclean, was a potentially dangerous move for a young man of ambition.
One that might be excused by strength of affection, but Flora did not delude herself in that regard. Although attentive, her soon-to-be husband could hardly be described as besotted. As her feelings were similarly disengaged, it was actually another element in his favor. There would be no pretense on either side. They were friends, nothing more. It was far more than could be said of most marriages.
Most important, she knew him well enough to know that he would not try to control her. She would live her life, and he would live his. It was all she wanted.
But what of him? What did he want?
Flora had known William for years, ever since shed first made her appearance at court six years ago. But unlike most of the young men of her acquaintance, hed never pursued her. His sudden courtshipin earnestupon her recent return to Edinburgh was thus unexpected but admittedly well timed.
For scarcely a few days after hed made his intentions known, a letter from her half-brother Rory, Chief of MacLeod, arrived requesting her presence at Dunvegan Castle to discuss her future. Ironically, the request from Rory was followed not long after by one from her half-brother Hector, Chief of Maclean, requesting her presence on the Isle of Mull. Flora was hardly fooled by the near simultaneous requests. A discussion about her future could mean only one thing for a young woman of four and twenty left alone by the sudden death of her mother: marriage. Or, more specifically, the right to control her marriage.
With her mother gone and her father buried long before, the right belonged to Rory. A brother she hardly knew. From what she did remember of him, he didnt seem as if he would force her to marry a man not of her choosing. But she could not take the chance. Even if Rory could be persuaded, Hector and her cousin Argyll wouldnt let the matter be decided without interference.
All three would be furious to discover what shed done.
Her brothers should have known better than to try to force her hand. Though she hadnt seen them in some time, in some ways she hadnt changed. But perhaps theyd forgotten the little girl who hated to be backed into a corner?
Flora gazed at William again, peering through the darkness to study him a little longer, wondering not for the first time why hed agreed to her plan to elope. But she quickly pushed aside the sudden twinge of uncertainty.
He was the perfect choice. Her brothers might even approve, she thought wryly. Not that she would give them a chance to have a say in the matter.
You have nothing to fear, Lord Murray reassured her, seeming to know where her mind was going. Even if they hear of it, it wont be in time. Were nearly there.
Flora arched a brow. You dont know my brothers.
In the soft glow of moonlight, an odd look crossed his face. Not well, he admitted. Mostly by reputation.
Flora repressed an indelicate snort. Then you will know that there is much to fear. My infamously fierce brothers are not men to anger. She paused. Though admittedly, I dont know them very well anymore.
When did you last see them?
She thought for a minute. Quite some time ago. My mother preferred to stay at court or Castle Campbell. The Lowland stronghold of the Earl of Argyll. Thereby avoiding the barbarians, as Highlanders were considered at court, whod caused her so much misery. My brothers do their best not to leave the Highlands, she explained. I see far more of my cousin Argyll than I do of Rory and Hector. Or any of the other half-siblings, for that matter.
Other than a few brief times at court, Flora had not spent significant time with anyone in her family since she was a child. Though she had eight half-brothers and-sistersfive MacLeods (sharing the same father) and three Macleans (sharing the same mother)she might as well have been an only child.
Not that shed minded. Shed always had her mother.
But her mother was gone.
Flora swallowed the ball that had suddenly formed in her throat. She missed her desperately.
She could only hope that in death, her mother had found the happiness that eluded her in life. Married four times to men not of her choosing, her mother had endeavored to ensure that her daughter not suffer the same fate, and her dying wish was that Flora not marry without love. A wish was that shed secured with a deathbed promise.
Promise me, Flora. Whatever it takes, never marry someone you do not love.
Flora shook off the memoriesand the guilt. She didnt love William. But how could she keep her promise to her mother? Without her mothers protection, Flora was left to the mercy of the men who would seek to control her. A woman could not choose her own destiny. Like it or not, Flora was a marriage prize. Her duty was to marry where her brother wanted her to.
But was it her duty to have a life of unhappiness?
No. She refused to be bartered like a prized heifer. Shed made her decision.
Did it belong to your mother?
Startled, she turned back toward William. What?
The necklace. You always hold it when you mention her.
Flora smiled softly, not realizing shed been clasping the amulet. The amulet that her mother had never been without but that had belonged to Flora for the last six months. Since the day her mothers unhappiness was finally put to rest. Yes.
Its unusual. Where did it come from?
She paused, for some reason unwilling to share the story of the necklace. It seemed so personal somehow. Ridiculous, she knew, given that this man would soon be her husband. The legend and the curse associated with the amulet were hardly a secret. Still, she hesitated. It was passed to my mothers mother by her aunt, who She paused. Died without children. And then to my mother as the youngest daughter, and then to me. But originally, it belonged to the Macleans.
Your brothers clan?
She nodded.
They hit another bump. Flora held her breath as the carriage perched sideways for a long moment, then settled back down on all four wheels. When it came to a sudden halt, she thought they must have damaged something.
Ill have the coachmans head for this
But Lord Murrays threat was lost in the deafening thunder of horses and the sudden burst of loud voices coming from outside.
Her pulse shot up in an explosion of comprehension: They were being attacked.
From the quizzical expression on his face, it was clear that William had not yet realized what was happening. He was a Lowlander to the corea courtier, not a fighter. For a moment, Flora felt a stab of frustration; then she chastised herself for being unfair. She wouldnt want it otherwise. But clearly, in this situation, he was going to be of little help.
She could hear the sporadic clash of steel against steel moving closer. They didnt have much time. Grabbing his arm, she forced his gaze to hers. Were under attack. A shot rang out, punctuating her words. Do you have anything? A weapon of any sort?
He shook his head. I have no use for weaponry, my men are well armed.
Flora cursed, not bothering to curb her tongue.
His frown returned. Really, my dear. You mustnt say such things. Not when we are married.
Another shot rang out.
She bit back the sarcastic retort that sprang to her lips. Married? They might not be alive in an hour. Did he not understand the desperation of their situation? Scotland was rife with brigands who roamed the countryside. Outlaws. Broken men without clans who werent known for their mercy. Flora had thought there would be some protection in staying close to Edinburgh. She was wrong.
Lord Murray was exhibiting the arrogant obtuseness characteristic of many courtiersthe confidence that rank and wealth would protect him. But a few muskets would not stop a Highland sword or bow for long. They needed something to defend themselves with.
A sword, she said urgently, trying to mask her impatience. Surely you have a sword?
Of course. Every man at court carries one. But I did not want to be bothered with it at my side during the journey, so the driver strapped it to the box with your gown. I do still have my dagger. He slid the blade from the scabbard at his waist and held it out to her. From the heavily jewel-encrusted hilt, Flora could tell that it was intended for adornment and not battle. But the six-inch blade would suffice well enough.
From the awkward way he held the blade, as if it were distasteful, it was obvious he didnt know how to use it. Im afraid I dont have much experience
She did. Ill take it. Flora slid the dagger into the fold of her cloak right before the door swung open with a crash.
And everything happened at once.
Before she could scream or make a move to defend herself, she was plucked roughly from the safety of the carriage into the viselike hold of a man. A very large man. Who from the feel of him was as strong as an ox.
She gasped from the force of being brought up hard against the granite wall of his chest. Laid out against him, the full length of her body was plastered against hard, unyielding stone.
Dear God, no one had ever dared to hold her like this. Shed never been this aware ofanything. Her cheeks burned with indignation and from the sudden blast of heat that seemed to radiate from him. Hed wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed it up snuggly under the heavy weight of her bosom, making her deeply conscious of the rise and fall of her breasts against his arm. Although she was not a small woman, her head tucked easily under his chin. But the worst part was that with her back to his chest, her bottom was pressed directly against his groin.
Instinctively, she rebelled at the closeness. At the intimacy of being molded against the hard-muscled body of a filthy villain.
Except that he didnt smell filthy at all. He smelled of myrtle and heather, with the faintest hint of the sea.
Furious at the direction of her thoughts, she turned her outrage on her captor. Get your hands off me! She struggled to wrench free, but it was useless. His arm was as rigid as steel. Though he was restraining her with only one arm, shed barely moved an inch.
Im afraid not, my sweet.
She froze at the lilting sound of the burr in his voice. A Highlander. His voice made the hair on her arms stand straight on end. It was almost hypnotic. Deep and dark, with an indisputable edge of danger.
Her blood ran cold. The direness of their predicament had just grown markedly worse. Highlanders had the morals of the devil. Unless she could think of something, they were as good as dead.
Repressing the impulse to struggle further, Flora stilled, feigning submission, giving herself a moment to appraise the situation. The night was dark, but the full moon softly lit the wide expanse of moorland, enabling her to see just enoughor perhaps too much. Because what she saw wasnt good. They were surrounded by about a score of powerful-looking men dressed in breacan feiles, the belted plaids of the Highlands, all brandishing enormous two-handed claymores. To a one, their faces were hard and uncompromising. These were fighting men, warriors.
But they did not bear the hungry, feral look of hunted men. Glancing down, she noticed the finely spun linen shirt of the man holding her. His plaid was also of fine qualitysoft and smooth to the touch.
If they werent outlaws, just who were they, and what did they want?
She didnt intend to stay and find out. Every nerve in her body clamored to break free, to escape from danger. But her options were few.
The handful of men whom Lord Murray had brought as an escort were greatly outnumbered and, from the looks of things, had given up without much of a fight. She saw a few muskets and hagbuts scattered at their feet, although most still held their swords.
But surrender was not in Floras nature. Especially to barbarians. And she had no doubt that these men were Highlanders. If their speech hadnt given them away, the manner of their dress left no doubt.
What do you want? Flora recognized the haughty voice of her betrothed. And get your filthy hands off her.
Lord Murray had been pulled from the carriage behind her and was being restrained by a fearsome-looking Highlander. His size, piercing blue eyes, and shock of white blond hair left little doubt of his Viking ancestry.
The brigand gave her a moments pause, leaving her to wonder whether the brute holding her was equally as formidable. Perhaps she was glad she could not see him; she was frightened enough as it was. Her heart was beating so hard, she was sure he must feel it.
Take whatever it is you want and leave us, Lord Murray added. We are on important business this night.
The man behind her stiffened, and Flora realized why. Shed never noticed the tinge of condescension that threaded through Williams speech until now.
You are hardly in any position to be issuing orders, my lord, her captor said with unveiled contempt. His arm tightened possessively around her middle. But you are free to go. Take your men with you. I have everything I want.
Her blood drained to her feet as his meaning became clear. Me. He means me.
William would die before he allowed a barbarian to take her, and Flora couldnt be the cause of his death. Nor would she contemplate what the villain might do to her. Her gaze darted around frantically as she tried to come up with a plan.
You cant be serious. Do you know who we are? William paused. Is that what this is about? Do you intend to ransom her? He laughed scornfully, causing the man behind her to stiffen further. Flora wished William would be quiet, before he got them all killed. Youll wish for a simple hanging if you take her. You will be hunted like a dog.
Theyd have to catch me, the brigand said flatly.
From his tone, it was obvious he thought it impossible. This was no typical brigand, Flora realized. She could tell from his voice and his facility with Scots, the tongue of the Lowlands, that he had at least some education.
A glint of silver coming from the rear of the carriage flashed in the moonlight like a shimmering beacon. There it was. Her chance. She only hoped that Williams men would be ready.
William had started issuing more threats. It was now or never. She hoped the man holding her didnt notice the sudden spike in her heartbeat.
She prayed she remembered what to do. It had been a long time since her brothers Alex and Rory and her cousin Jamie Campbell had taught her how to defend herself.
She took a deep breath and stomped down as hard as she could with the wooden heel of her patten on the brigands instep, causing him to loosen his hold just enough. In one swift movement, she slid the dagger from her cloak, spun, and thrust the blade deep into his stomach. But hed turned slightly, and the blade sank into his side instead.
He let out a pained curse and fell to his knees, grabbing the handle of the dirk that was still in his side.
Horror crept up her throat. Shed never stabbed a man before. She hoped
Nonsense. The brute intended to kidnap herand worse.
She turned around long enough to see the surprise on his face. A face that was not what shed expected. A face that made her hesitate. Their eyes locked, and she felt a strange jolt. Gods breath, he was the most ruggedly handsome man shed ever seen.
But he was a villain.
Turning from the wounded man, she leapt toward the carriage.
Fight! she yelled to Lord Murrays gaping men.
Lunging for the flash of silver shed glimpsed, she prayed, letting out a sigh of relief when her hand found steel and she pulled Lord Murrays sword from the box.
Her daring had spurred the men back into action. The fighting began again in earnest.
Escape. She couldnt let them take her. Perhaps if she could cross the moors a few hundred yards to the edge of the forest. She turned to look for William, relieved to see that the man holding him had made a move toward his injured leaderfor she had no doubt that the man shed stabbed was the leaderand then found himself engaged in a sword fight with one of Williams men. After tossing the sword to William, she pulled him behind the carriage. We have to run, she whispered.
He stood frozen, looking at her with the strangest expression on his face, as if he couldnt quite tell whether to be awed or repulsed.
She tamped down her rising irritation. He should be thanking her, not gaping at her as if she were a Gorgon. Look, we dont have much time. Not giving him an opportunity to reply, she pulled him toward the moors and started to run toward the line of trees that loomed in the distance like an oasis.
But freedom was swift. She hadnt taken more than a few steps onto the heather before she was brought down from behind, landing hard against the ground with the full weight of a man on top of her. Her breath slammed against her chest.
She couldnt move. Or breathe. Heather, dirt, and twigs pressed into her cheek, and her mouth tasted dirt.
She didnt have to look; she knew who it was just by the feel of him.
He wasnt dead.
He stayed like that for a minute, letting her feel his weight, letting her feel her helplessness, before rolling her over onto her back. Since she had lost her cap in the fracas, her hair streamed across her face and tangled in her lashes. He pinned her shoulders to the ground with his arms and pressed the long length of his body against her to keep her down.
He didnt say a word. But he didnt need to. Anger radiated from him as bright and hot as wildfire.
A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. William! Help me. He had the sword, and sprawled out on top of her, the brigand was vulnerable. William stood stone still, as if he hadnt heard her. William! Their eyes met. She saw fearfor himselfand guilt. The blood drained out of her. Hes going to leave me. And before she could react, he turned and ran.
Stunned, Flora watched as he disappeared into the darkness. She couldnt believe it. Her betrothed had left her to the mercyassuming they had anyof the brigands.
The man on top of her murmured an uncomplimentary expletive, echoing her thoughts exactly. Shed erred badly. To think she might have married him.
But her mind was quickly driven from Lord Murrays betrayal.
The brigand was touching her. Covering her body with his enormous hands. Sliding over her breasts, hips, around her bottom, and down the length of her legs. She froze, shock slipping into panic.
What are you doing? Stop! She tried to break free, but he had her trapped. With his weight on her, she couldnt budge. Shed never felt so helpless. Tears burned her eyes. Please. Dont do this.
Ignoring her frightened pleas, his hands, so large and unfamiliar on her body, continued their methodical plunder. He didnt miss an inch. There was something hard and calculated about his movements, almost detached. But when his hand slid between her legs, she lashed out as if scalded. With the quick burst of strength, she managed to free a hand long enough to rake her nails across his cheek.
He swore and caught hold of her wrists, pinning them together above her head. Lowering his face to hers, he said menacingly, Enough. You test my patience, my wee banshee. Stretched out beneath him, she stared up into his eyesbreathing hard from her struggles, her bosom heaving conspicuously. He stilled, and something changed. The detachment was gone. His eyes fell on her breasts, lingering. Heat spread across her chest. But his gaze hardened and snapped back to her face. Your fears on that score are unfounded. I simply do not relish another dirk in my back.
Side. But she thought it best not to argue the point. Im unarmed.
I dont think Ill take your word for it.
When hed satisfied himself that she was telling the truth, he sprang to his feet, and she found herself unceremoniously pulled up after him. Shed calmed, but her heart still pounded.
Without the heat of his body, she immediately noticed that her gown felt wet. She placed a hand on her stomach, then jerked it away. The sharp metallic smell sent a wave of nausea crashing over her. It was blood. His blood. She glanced at his chest and blanched, noticing the dark crimson stain that penetrated the thick wool of his plaid. It must hurt him something fierce, but he gave no evidence of any injury.
But any guilt she might have experienced was swiftly eradicated. He dragged her back toward the carriage, her arm clenched in a viselike grip, a physical reminder of her circumstances.
Youre hurting me.
He spun her around and pinned her with his gaze. His eyes glowed in the moonlight. Blue. A penetrating blue that bored right into her. His gaze was like the rest of him, hard and uncompromisingwith an unmistakable tinge of danger. Her stomach fluttered. With fear? It should be.
His face was strong and lean, all hard angles and raw masculinitythere was nothing soft about him. His nose had been broken more than once, but that and the scattering of scars across his face only added to his rugged appeal. Four fresh scratches scored down his cheek. Flora wouldnt feel sorry for it, but they didnt look deep enough to scar.
His squared jaw was firmly clenched, and tiny white lines were etched around his mouth. For a Highlander, his hair was unusually short and well groomed, just long enough to fall in gentle waves past his ears. It was either dark brown or black, she couldnt tell.
Standing before him, face-to-face, she realized for the first time just how big he was. Tall, broad-shouldered, and heavily muscled. But she wouldnt allow his size to intimidate her. She was used to large menher brothers were all similarly built. Still, shed felt his strength firsthand, and it was hard not to be unsettled.
Its either my hand or I can tie you up. He gave her a long look, one that made her think he would like nothing more. You decide.
Mortified heat burned her cheeks. She lifted her chin a little to glare at him. Hand.
Good decision. But if you try to run again, I will not be so generous.
Generous. She made a sharp sound of derision. You are kidnapping me. Am I supposed to thank you?
Youre welcome.
I was not But her reprimand dropped off as they rounded the carriage. She tensed, sure that she would see many of Lord Murrays men lying dead on the ground. Her gaze darted around, then widened, shocked to find them all accounted for. They had surrendered, and this time the brigands had made sure to divest them of their weapons, but otherwise Lord Murrays men appeared largely unharmed. The worst injury appeared to belong to a Highlander whod been shot in the arm.
It didnt make any sense. It was almost as if their attackers had gone out of their way not to hurt anyone. Not what she expected from barbarians. She turned to look at him appraisingly. What do you want with me?
His face was like stone, giving no hint of his thoughts.
Where are you taking me?
To my keep.
And where is that?
He paused for a moment, obviously debating whether to tell her. Drimnin. In Morvern.
Her mother had lands in Morvern, which wasnt unusual since her mother had held lands all over the Highlands, so Flora knew that the keep belonged to Lachlan Maclean, the Maclean of Coll. The embittered enemy of her half-brother Hector Maclean of Duart. Her eyes narrowed. Does your laird know what you have done?
You might say that. His mouth curved, the first sign of lightness in his stony expression. The transformation was stunning, turning his fierce visage into something far more dangerous. Her gaze fixed on the charming twinkle in his eyes and the sensual curve of his wide mouth. Her stomach fluttered.
It was only because she was watching him so closely that she saw him flinch. He was in more pain than he was letting on, but he quickly masked it.
A few of the brigands were staring at her with strange expressions.
The Viking ventured the question that was apparently on everyones minds. Are you sure youve got the right lass? This one doesnt look like the bonniest heiress in Scotland. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
Flora bristled. She didnt care much for her nickname, but no woman liked to be told she was not pleasing to the eye. Vanity stung, she opened her mouth to offer a torrid rebuke when she suddenly realized how she must look. Blond hair a tangled nest, dirt streaked across her face, blood on her gownAh yes, shed forgotten about her shapeless gray wool maidservants gown.
Its her, her captor replied flatly.
He couldnt know who I am. What could he possibly want with me?
Her heart crashed to the floor. Why did women of fortune usually get abducted? Good God, this barbarian couldnt intend to marry her?
There had to be some mistake.