Page 36 of The Story of his Highland Bride
She heard the rustle of underbrush being crushed and the rapid snap of branches, like guns firing, forcing her into a sprint. She leaped over rotting logs and weaved between mossy trunks, putting faith in her footing as she hurtled toward the road. Even if she had to dive into the overflowing stream to escape him, she would.
But Father Hepburn was faster than he looked, and just as the road came into view, a hand closed around the back of her cloak, yanking her backward. The shock of it downed her for a moment, splaying her out on the ground among the wet grass and the undergrowth. Adrenaline rocked her back up a secondlater, launching her to her feet. There’d be bruises and aches later, but first she had to make sure that therewasa later.
She whirled around at speed, coming face to face, and almost nose to nose, with the priest she’d heard so much about. He was even more unpleasant, up close, than he’d been from afar.
“I know what you are! Ye won’t escape the Lord’s wrath!” the man screamed, lunging forward. He grabbed her by the arm, squeezing so hard that his fingernails broke the surface of her skin.
“And you won’t escape mine!” she screamed back, as instinct kicked in.
She’d taken a few self-defense classes at university, and weekly circuit training sessions on Saturday mornings for years, and it appeared that all of that had been leading to this moment. As the priest came in to try and grab her other arm, likely hoping to pin her or something, she threw her elbow up as hard as she could. The blow caught him squarely in the nose, his head jolting backward as the sound of his nose breaking lingered in her mind.
But there wasn’t a moment to lose. Spinning around, her veins still pumping with adrenaline, she ran for the road, and she didn’t intend to stop until she was safely behind castle walls again.
The trouble was, after what she’d just done, she doubted there was any wall high enough to keep Father Hepburn away. He’dburn her for the insult alone of suffering a broken nose. And with the path to the witch now blocked, her chance of making it home had just plummeted almost to zero.
20
“What’s that on yer arm?” Jackson noticed the bruise immediately, indented with bright red crescents.
Eloise tugged her shawl over the injury, turning her face away. “It’s nothing. I tripped and banged my arm against the wardrobe. Silly, really. Should’ve been watching where I was going.” She turned back to him, smiling stiffly. “Enough about me. Tell me everything about this skirmish. I can’t say I really know what a skirmish is.”
“It wasnae one,” Jackson muttered, moving closer to her. “It was little more than a quarrel between farmers, so ye can imagine me irritation. I’m just glad it wasnae anythin’ worse, so I could return to ye sooner than I thought.”
He stooped to kiss her shoulder, as she sat facing the window of his bedchamber. She smiled in the reflection of the pane, but that smile turned to horror as he pushed the shawl back down, revealing the injury she was clearly trying to hide.
“Where did it really come from?” he asked, kissing it.
With a heavy sigh, she peered up at him. “Promise you won’t be cross?”
“I cannae promise that until I hear it, but… I’ll hold me temper,” he replied, his nerves on edge. Who could have caused such a wound, when he had not been away more than a few hours?
“I went to visit the witch by myself. I thought that, if I could ask about my plan, and she gave me good news, I could surprise you with it. But, it was me who got the surprise, and a nasty one at that.” She hesitated. “I crossed paths with the priest. He knew me. Said he’d seen me, so you’re likely right about there being spies in the castle. He might even be one, in disguise. Anyway, I ran, and he tried to catch me, hence the bruised arm, but he came off far, far worse.”
Jackson chewed the inside of his cheek, trying his best to keep the promise he had made moments ago. “How so?”
“I elbowed him in the nose,” she answered, flashing a nervous grin. “I broke it, I think. It sounded like I did.”
In one utterance, Jackson’s ire transformed into a laugh of pure delight, as he pictured Father Hepburn’s shock at being beaten by a woman. “That’s me lass! Och, I could never have that satisfaction, nae unless I wanted chaos in me Clan, but ye did what I’ve been dreamin’ of doin’ for years!”
“So, you’re not angry?” She bit her lower lip, fidgeting.
“I’m mad as a badger that ye went to the cottage without me, but how could I stay furious after hearin’ that? Och, I couldn’ae be prouder of ye!” He rested his hands on her shoulders, and bent his head to kiss her neck, hoping they might spend the hour before dinner enjoying one another.
But, judging by the way Eloise dipped her chin and gazed down into her lap, he guessed she had not told him the entire story.
“What’s the matter?” he asked softly, coming around to the side of the chair. He kneeled down and took hold of her hands, patiently waiting for her to speak.
She swallowed thickly. “The priest was on his way to capture the witch at the cottage. If he managed it, then there’s no one to help me with the stones, and I think I just painted a gigantic target on my back.” Her breath hitched. “Elbowing him felt good, in the moment, but he’s going to kill me for humiliating him like that.”
“Did anyone else see?”
Her brow furrowed. “I think he had other men with him—the path through the woods was heavily trampled—but they weren’t anywhere to be seen when I hit him.”
“He’ll want to keep it that way. Daenae fret, he willnae tell a soul what ye did,” Jackson soothed, but he was not telling the whole truth, either. They both knew it. In one blow, Eloise had gonefrom being a pawn to try and manipulate Jackson, to becoming Father Hepburn’s primary enemy. He would come for her; it was merely a matter of when.
Standing up, Jackson pulled Eloise to her feet and swept her up into his arms. She squealed in surprise, batting him lightly on the arm as she cried, “What are you doing? Set me down, now!”
“We’ve got too much to do, and this is quicker,” he told her, wielding her out of the door and through the maze of hallways beyond.
