Page 109 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
Was that a man on horseback?
Her excitement built when she saw that it was a huge black beast, just like Callum’s, and the man on its back was large like the Laird.
But Lydia’s excitement soon turned to fear when another horse appeared behind the first. There were two of them, and in the flare from another lightning flash, she could see the swords glinting as they cantered toward them at speed.
There was a shout from the driver, and the carriage began to speed up, the horses’ hoofbeats increasing as the jolting, rocking motion became more intense.
Lydia held onto the walls of the coach, looking around for anything she could use as a weapon.
She had her travel case in the cab, and inside was her mother’s lavender brooch. Bending forward, she flipped open the lid and drew it out, releasing the sharp pin and holding it between her fingers.
There was more shouting, and the whistling sound of an arrow.
Lydia screamed as it ripped through the side of the carriage, the sharp point coming to rest inches from her eye.
There was the clash of metal from outside as they thundered on, and Lydia sat still, staring outward, hoping and praying that the guard would be able to fight them off.
There was another shout from above, and then the carriage began to slow. As it came to a stop, the door was wrenched open, and a burly man with a dark beard and sharp, piercing eyes was illuminated by another flash of lightning.
“We have her!” he hollered.
Lydia tried to get as far from him as possible as he reached into the carriage to grab her.
She clawed at his arms, his thick fingers clutching for her, dragging her out and into the rain.
All she could hear was the huffing breaths of the man holding her; there was no other sound at all.
Shouldn’t there be sounds of fighting?
She looked around desperately for the guard until her foot struck against something on the ground as she stumbled forward. Looking down in horror, she saw the guard dead at her feet, a knife in his heart. The driver of the coach was slumped forward, too, an arrow in his shoulder, moaning in pain.
Lydia fought for all she was worth.
I am alone. There is no one here to save me now. I must get away!
She kicked out hard between the man’s legs, and he made a soft groan of pain as his fingers released her.
The other man screamed at him to hold her, reaching for her as the rain tumbled down between them, blurring Lydia’s vision.
His fingers were inches from her hair, about to drag her away, a knife in his hand. She stabbed upward and into his arm with the sharp pin of the brooch, and he screamed in pain.
Recoiling from her, he swore, using words she had never heard in polite society, and Lydia took her chance.
The carriage had come to a stop beside the wide shore of the lake, but there were thick trees about one hundred meters away. If she ran, she might be able to make it before the men recovered themselves.
Picking up her skirts, the water weighing them down so heavily she could barely move, she began to run.
The ground beneath her feet was slick with rain, the water pooling on the surface as the torrential downpour continued.
Lydia could see her breath forming in clouds ahead of her as she ran with all her might into the trees.
I have to get out of here. I do not have Callum to protect me now.
She stumbled, falling forward into the dirt, water coming up and coating her face as she clawed at the ground.
The rain was falling heavily, and she struggled to stand, weighted down by her dress, but eventually, as her silken shoes came off, she could grip the ground with her toes and pull herself up.
It could not have been more than a minute before she had reached the tree line, but it felt like hours.
