Page 3 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
“What about you?”Emma had asked anxiously. “What if you cannot make it?”
Helena’s lips had thinned, and for once, she seemed to shrink. Then she had shrugged and smiled, saying that even a Scot wouldn’t want a bluestocking, and not to worry.
But Emma worried as much for Helena as she did for herself.
Emma was jolted awake in the carriage, which she had come to loathe over the past three days. She knew every terrible creak and jolt, and usually could never sleep in it.
For a moment, she thought perhaps they’d reached her aunt’s estate, but it was too quiet. Some instinct told her to stay still, tobarely breathe, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of a sword being sheathed.
“Didnae give us much of a fight, did he, lad?” An ugly laugh drifted through the carriage door.
Emma froze.
Wicked Scottish beasts.She bit her lip hard.And where is?—?
“Poor ole grandfaither should’ve been asleep in his bed, nae on the road.”
“Search the carriage,” said another voice, cold and flat, making Emma’s entire body freeze over.
“Aye,” the first man grumbled, and footsteps started toward the carriage.
Emma’s breathing was too quick, too fast, and her heart hurt. Somewhere in her heart, she thought she might be weeping for Ol’ George, who had helped Helena out of more than one scrape. The innocent old man did not deserve to die at the hands of highwaymen.
As the footsteps drew close, Emma thought to scream, but then she clamped her mouth shut. Instead, she gathered all her strength, and as the handle turned, she threw herself at the door.
There was a surprised bellow of pain, and Emma saw a big man fall backward, one of his boots flying off, but she was already down and running. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a still form sprawled on the other side of the road, and a sob hitched in her throat.
For a moment, she slowed down, until she saw a tall shadow unfold next to it and the wicked gleam of a knife. Emma let out a gasp of terror and turned, running so fast that she spooked the horses, who took off running.
The second man with the knife cursed, and Emma thought to chase the horse for one wild moment. Instead, she darted to the left, her skirts snagging in the long grass, and made for the dense woods.
It was dark as night still, for the morning was but a suggestion in the sky.
The air was cold and damp, and her breath sawed in and out of her lungs in painful bursts. Her generous curves and her dress did not help her escape, but terror seemed to lend her feet wings.
Though there was a metallic tang in her mouth, almost like blood, she kept running.
Emma’s ears were filled with nothing but her gasping breaths and the thud of her boots hitting the earth. Thank goodness she’d opted to keep her good shoes.
As though hearing her thoughts, the forest suddenly thinned into a clearing with a sharp, if short, drop into a stream, and she stumbled back. The light was brighter now, and she gazed around, seeing that she was quite alone.
Pressing a hand to her thundering heart, she also realized that she’d lost her shawl somewhere, and her hair was in wild tangles around her shoulders. Staring down at the water, Emma fought down tears, even as she knew she’d have to ford it.
I hate wet stockings.
For a moment, she hopped from foot to foot, wondering if she should simply walk along until she found a better spot to cross. She had no idea where she was, and until the sun rose, she wouldn’t know what direction to take.
Can I make it to Aunt’s estate alone?
She sighed, knowing she was wasting precious time. About to clamber down the bank, Emma heard a sound behind her and whirled. The forest moved around her as the wind rose, then stilled as it petered out.
Ears straining, she listened hard and began to back up, intent on getting out of this small clearing. Another noise came, then, and Emma lost her cool, turning with a soft cry to run.
Only to crash into something hard and solid. Something—no,someone—someone with strong hands who caught her neatly round the elbows and prevented her from falling backward.
Still, she tried to wrench free, but he held on tighter, dragging her close. So close that even in the dim wood, Emma could see that she’d crashed into possibly the most handsome man in the entire world.
She’d never seen a man so strong and tall, not even the men who handled the horses on her father’s estate.
