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BOOK: April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 02
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The man guarding Jacqueline held her close against his body. His yellow-stained teeth and foul odor was repulsive. Jacqueline struggled out of his hold. He continued to stand quietly and watched as Malcolmus returned, holding onto the reins of the horses and a cord of rope. Wrapping it around her waists and arms, he threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the horses. Dropping her on her rump, he knotted the end of the rope to the saddle strap the two men walked away a few feet to talk about their prize. Jacqueline could hear only a faint whisper.

Macolmus suggested, “Niall, if she is no’ the English lass they be seeking, perhaps we can keep her for ransom. Her family would pay for her safe return.”

“Aye, but I think we should first check to make sure she is who she says she is. If she be the English lass there is a bounty for her; forty silver,” Niall proposed.

The two men turned around to look at their hostage but she was gone. The only thing left was the dangling rope still tied to the horse.

“Ye eejit. Ye let her escape,” Niall yelled and smacked Malcolmus on the back of the head.

“Nay I dinna. I tied that rope tight.”

“Well mon, go after her.”

The two men gave chase. Jacqueline cried out for help.

As Jacqueline raced forward, she lost her footing over a tree root that stuck out of the ground, hidden beneath the snow. Crashing into the ground, and landing on her hands and knees, she froze as she felt the ground shake underneath her hands. Glancing up, a beast black as midnight ran towards her. As it drew closer, she prayed that the beast would run past her and after the two men chasing her. Gathering the courage to move, Jacqueline picked herself up and was just about to dash towards the trees when her assailants grabbed her from behind.

 

 

Ewan had heard the screams from quite a distance away. Kicking his horse into a faster run, he raced towards the distressing pleas for help. As soon as the lass came into view, Ewan spotted two men grabbing her off the ground and lifting her to her feet.

As he moved closer, Ewan did not take his eyes off the frightened lass. Her dull blond hair was tangled in a mess of waves and curls and her clothes were ragged and torn. Half naked, she wore nothing more than a white chemise covered by a dark cloak.

But what stood out to Ewan was her youthful hidden beauty underneath the smudge marks smeared on her face. With a small rosy-colored nose and pale lips, she had an innocent child-like appearance. The two men, on the other hand, looked ragged and spiteful. Ewan’s instinct told him that these two were not to be trusted.

Jacqueline gazed up at the fearless rider, as her bottom lip trembled. His glaring stare made his demeanor as dominating as the massive warhorse he rode. Jacqueline felt her muscles twitch with nervousness but even his overpowering essence did not frighten her. She knew that his man was her salvation.

The stranger’s disheveled appearance made him look weary as if he had not slept in days. His broad shoulders complimented his burly, muscular physique. A length of fur that covered his grey colored tunic and kilt draped across his shoulders. His exposed calves were the size of tree trunks with well-defined muscles. Even with his rugged exterior, Jacqueline thought him to be a very handsome man. Jacqueline felt one of the men tighten his grip as their potential threat silently circled the three of them.

“This is nay your concern, friend,” Niall said.

“I do believe I heard the lass cry for help, therefore ye have made it my concern,” Ewan responded towering over them from the top of his horse.

“We found the lass.” Malcolmus informed him.

“And ye are escorting her? It dinna appear to me that the lass has accepted yer generosity.”

“There is word that this lass may be a traitor. There may be a heavy amount of coin for this one, and we are claiming her ransom from the English so dinna be thinkin’ ye are goin’ to steal her from us and take what we rightfully claim,” Malcolmus warned.

Niall slapped Malcolmus’ arms.

“And are ye daft enough to believe the English will just throw what’s in their coffers down at yer feet?” Ewan questioned.

“Well…I,” Malcolmus stuttered.

“How do you know this lass is the person ye seek? Has she told ye?” Ewan began to question.

“Well nay, but she has golden hair like the description,” Malcolmus said trying to make his point.

“Then, ye must plan to capture every golden-haired lass across Scotland then, eh?”

The two men looked at each other, than back to Ewan.

“Ye are trying to trick us,” Niall interjected.

Jacqueline rolled her eyes, as she understood what the fearless warrior was playing at. His clever words and inquiries were beginning to frustrate her two captors. She then looked back over at her champion. She couldn’t help but to stare into his alluring eyes.

“We shall see.” Directing his attention to Jacqueline, Ewan continued, “What say ye, my lady? Are ye the traitor they seek?”

Jacqueline hesitated at her answer and shook her head.

“Well then, there ye have it.” Drawing out his sword, Ewan pointed it to Niall who seemed to be the frontrunner of these foolish men. “Now release her.”

With no real weapons of their own besides a small eating knife that hung to their belts, Niall nodded to Malcolmus to release her. Giving Ewan a deadly stare, Malcolmus pushed Jacqueline out of this hold.

“The next time we meet, ye will no’ have me at such a disadvantage,” Niall growled.

“Ye should pray there will nay be a next time,” Ewan replied in a deadly tone.

Ewan and Jacqueline watched as Niall grabbed onto Malcolmus’ shirt and dragged him away. Jacqueline rubbed her hands up and down her sore arms from where Malcolmus had held her.

Standing before Ewan at the base of the horse, she looked up at the giant beast and its rider. Intimidated by his gaze she hesitantly took a step back.

“Are ye alright, my lady?” Ewan asked.

“Aye.”

“My name is Ewan. Ye are safe now.”

Jacqueline began to open her mouth but paused. She wondered if she should tell this strange man her name or not. Swallowing hard she replied in Gaelic, “Thank ye. I shall leave now.”

Jacqueline curtsied and turned back towards the woods walking away as quickly as she could, hoping that her accent fooled the stranger into believing that she was Scottish.

 

 

Raising one brow, Ewan cocked his head to one side feeling completely astonished by the lass. He couldn’t decide if it was her bravery or just plain insanity to venture off on her own again. Shaking his head at her irrational behavior, he jumped down from his horse and sprinted after her. Swiftly, he jumped out in front of her to block her from taking one step further.

“On yer way? What foolishness to allow ye to return to the woods alone. Nay, I will take ye home.”

“No. Thank ye.”

Ewan looked at the lass as if she was inept.

“My lady, ye were just attacked. Ye will no’ be traveling anywhere without an escort. And because ye dinna have one, ye will have to stay wit me, I will no’ harm ye. Ye have me word.”

Ewan knew very well that he could not just leave the lass out here alone. Ewan felt pity for the lass. Feeling obligated, he had to bring her with him whether he liked it or not. Holding out his hand, he led her back to his horse. Without word, Jacqueline took it and allowed him to help her onto the horse.

Ewan swung this leg up in front of her and she held on to his shirt trying to not press her hands onto his sides. Jacqueline began to doubt her intuition; allowing a man she knew nothing about to escort her, but deep down she felt alone and was grateful for the companionship and protection. Not wanting to give away her identity she remained silent. Instead, she thought about what the two men in the woods had said. Does she truly have a bounty of her head? No doubt that both her brother and Lord Wessex would be coming after her. Shivers crawled up her spine.

Annoyed by the turn of events, Ewan continued to head into the direction of the village. He believed that he could help the lass find shelter there or help to return her back to her home so that he could continue on to his mission.

Ewan jolted when he felt Jacqueline shiver against his back. Unsure if it was caused by the cold because of her inappropriate attire or the nervousness that she must be feeling after being attacked. He had many questions and was determined to find out who she was and why she was out in the woods alone. Just as he was about to ask, the sound of hooves broke the silence.

 

Chapter 6

 

 

Ewan jerked the reins, bringing Aron to an abrupt halt. Scanning the woods, he sat straighter on his horse, observing the surroundings. The sound increased like rolling thunder, causing Jacqueline squeeze his sides tighter.

“Dinna worry, lass. We are well-hidden within these trees.”

Moments later, Ewan and Jacqueline watched as a group of English soldiers rode past, heading into the direction of the village. Ewan’s muscles tensed. When all was clear, he slowly started to follow them. Once they rode to the edge of the woods, Ewan dismounted.

“Stay here. I will be right back,” he said as he slid off the saddle and crept along the bushes and bramble.

Ewan secretly watched as the Englishmen rode into the village. The villagers began to show panic by hiding in their homes. Standing in the center of the village, he saw Athol taking his stand.

“What do ye want?” Athol asked the English soldiers.

“You must be Athol of Galston. I am here to collect the king’s taxes.”

“We already paid our taxes.”

The Englishman turned his nose and chin up into the air, as if he was in disgust and replied, “Yes, well what meager taxes you did pay was not enough.”

“We have nay any more to give,” Athol sternly replied.

“Well, perhaps we can collect it another way,” the man said as she smiled at a young lass standing in front of one of the crofts.

“Ye may take what ye want, but ye will nay have me daughter.”

“By law, I shall take what I please.”

Ewan watched as the Englishman stepped in front of Athol’s daughter, stopping her from passing by him. Pressing the back of his hand along her cheek, Athol charged towards him. Two of the other soldiers restrained Athol, stopping his pursuit. The Englishman grabbed onto Athol’s daughter and began dragging her towards one of the crofts.

“Oh and there is one more thing, Athol of Galston. We have it on good authority that you offered assistance to the king’s prisoners,” the soldiers said.

“We dinna have yer prisoners and no one has passed through here in more than a fortnight,” Athol yelled out.

“Forgive me, if I do not believe you,” the solider replied. “Search every home, burn them down if you have to,” he called out to his fellow Englishmen and entered into the croft with the timid young lass.

Ewan watched as the Englishmen lit their torches and began to start the dwellings on fire as people scattered out of their homes. The thatched roofs of dried hay and vegetation lit up the sky with black smoke. Unable to protect themselves, many of the villagers cried out as their homes were engulfed in flames. Several men tried to fight by, but there were just too many of them. Ewan pulled out his sword ready to fight when he felt a soft touch on his arm.

“I thought I told you to stay with that horse?”

“Don’t. You will only get yourself killed. There are too many of them,” Jacqueline whispered.

Ewan looked at Jacqueline in disbelief. His intense dark eyes looked sinister. Jacqueline thought he might have seen the grim figure of Death himself, staring out at him through her eyes. Jacqueline began to panic for she had no understanding for his sudden behavior.

“Ye are English.”

Jacqueline’s eyes widen. She knew it was a statement rather than a question.

“Did ye lure them here to destroy this village? Was that yer plan?” he angrily asked.

“No. I did not lure them. I had no idea what would happen to these people. I never knew that our men were capable of such cruelty and brutality,” she tried to explain.

Ewan looked back at the burning village. The villagers scrambled about. Ewan knew, the lass was correct, he alone could not take on the English forces. Pushing off from the ground, he felt the blood in his veins burning hot. He was not one to walk away from injustice. He turned away from her and headed back towards his horse. The fate of these people was now in God’s hands.

“You offered me protection. Have you no virtue to honor your word?”

Ewan turned to face her. “Why would ye be seeking protection? Yer men are right there. They can take ye home.”

“I have no home,” she called out but Ewan did not respond, not even a flinch.

Ewan thought on her words and looked back towards his horse. With the lass unprotected, even though she too was his enemy, the feeling in his gut made him righteous enough not to leave her.

“Let’s go,” he barked out his order.

 

 

Silently, they walked back to the horse. Jacqueline knew that there was no reasoning with this man. She grabbed the ends of her robe and tightened it around her. Without making any sound or eye contact, she held out her hand for him to help her onto the horse. Riding behind him, she loosely held his sides and bared all her strength in her thighs to stay atop the horse.

Racing through the woods, Aron dodged small thorny shrubs and leaped over fallen logs. Ewan felt an awkward sensation as Jacqueline’s grip squeezed tighter around him. With her short arms, she was barely able to wrap them fully around his muscular waist. He became aware of her warmth, as the front of her slender body pressed up against his back. His body ached for the yearning of a lass between his legs. It had been some time since he bedded a woman. But this lass was different. She was dangerous and he would not tempt to play with fire. Riding out of the woods, Ewan felt Jacqueline ease her grip as they entered the flat open pasture.

“The sun will be setting soon. We will have to set up camp. Do ye need to stop to piss?” Ewan called out to Jacqueline over his shoulder.  

BOOK: April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 02
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