Page 2 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
He shook his head, as though trying to rid his mind of doubt, and clenching his jaw again, his thoughts came back to his objective.
Gunn must suffer. Whatever it takes.
Whispers travelled through the crowd of guests, starting from the back of the old stone building and travelling to the front, eventually bringing the chapel to silence.
This is it. She’s coming.
Keane readied himself for her entrance, noting Alisdair adjusting himself to stand a little straighter beside him. For a few seconds, nothing happened and tension rose in Keane, the anticipation building.
But then, he saw a shadow on the stone floor, and Elspeth Munro came into view. Seeing her, he took a steep breath in. It wasn’t the first time he had laid eyes upon her. Over the last few weeks, he and his men had followed her, watching her patterns. It had occurred to him that they could snatch her before the wedding, but she was always with guards.
Besides, he had realized later that taking her at the wedding in front of all those in attendance would have a much more dramatic impact, making Laird Gunn’s humiliation a hundred times worse.
Now, though, as she glided towards the altar, dressed far more beautifully than he had ever seen her, she looked almost angelic. Her long, raven-black hair was tied intricately upon her head. She was tall and slender, with a graceful regal beauty. Stunning, in fact, which was the very reason Keane felt almost frozen to the spot.
Catching himself, he pushed his distraction aside.
I only have one purpose here.
Glancing around the chapel, Keane saw that all his men had eyes on him, waiting for the signal. Clenching his fist, he suddenly lifted it in the air, and then, all hell broke loose.
His men yelled out a battle cry, causing gasps from the guests, and while they were distracted, Keane closed the distance between himself and the bride with precise swiftness. Already, he could hear swords clanging above the terrified cries and bellows of those in the crowd, the sounds echoing against the chapel walls. But determined in his resolve, he did not look behind him.
Only a few feet away now, he finally reached the Munro lass and grabbed her, causing her to shriek with fright. With her eyes wide with terror, she gawked at him, while Keane wrapped one arm around her and lifted her off her feet with little effort.
Alisdair was close by his side, ready to battle any who tried to stop them, but the fight continued further in the chapel.
“Stop them,” Laird Gunn bellowed, but his voice was drowned out by the yells of fear from the many people and the battle that was going on around him.
Laird Gunn’s men were currently battling Keane’s loyal warriors, and thus, had no chance to get near them. Without any hesitation, Keane ran towards the main doors and out into the light, leaving his men behind.
That was always the plan. They were never going to get out of there together, and thus, Keane had arranged to meet them at a disclosed location when it was all over. His men knew the risks and they also knew to make certain that they were not followed.
While Elspeth Munro was at first shocked at what was happening, she came round rather quickly once Keane and Alisdair were outside the chapel making their way to their horses.
“What are ye doing?” she yelled, thumping her fists against Keane’s strong arm. “Let me go this minute. Let me go.”
Keane ignored her, too busy trying not to get caught. Their horses were hidden in a dense group of trees not too far away and as good as Keane’s men were, Laird Gunn was certain to give chase, so they had to get as far away from there as they could manage in the shortest possible time.
The lass, however, was not making their escape easy, as she clawed and struck him. She caused him little pain, but her writhing about in his arm was making his journey difficult. She was certainly a feisty one.
“Ye’re going tae pay for this,” she screamed, flailing her arms and trying to punch his face. “Let me go, ye brute. Put me down this minute.”
Still, Keane ignored her, and weaving through the trees, twigs snapping underfoot, the horses soon came into sight.
“There,” he called out to Alisdair, who ran a few steps behind.
Upon reaching the horses, he dropped the woman to her feet, but kept a tight grip on her wrists. It didn’t stop her from writhing, her legs now kicking out, trying to strike him.
“Get the rope,” Keane demanded.
Alisdair frowned. “Dae ye really need?—”
“Get it,” Keane spat, turning to glare at his companion.
A second later, Keane roared as an excruciating pain travelled from his groin, splaying out across his body. Elspeth Munro had managed to hit her target, and as Keane bent double, Alisdair burst into laughter.
“Well, that’ll teach ye,” he chuckled.
