Page 96 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
Ross shot a glance to his horse, lurking beyond the brush. His forehead creased as he scratched his chin. It was then that Johanna noticed his ring finger was considerably shorter than the rest. A grimy bandage surrounded the tip. Sickening understanding filled her, and she averted her gaze.
“Munro, secure our mounts. We’ll return for them later. The carriage will be suitable, seeing how Cranston wants to treat her like a lady.” He shot Johanna a smirk. “At least, until he gets his hands on her.”
His words triggered a fresh wave of revulsion, but she choked it back. Ross intended to frighten her. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing he’d succeeded.
“Cranston’s a cagey one, he is. He knows how to get what he wants.” Ross caught her within the vise of one hand. “He doesn’t tolerate failure.”
Jerking against his restraint, she stared down at his brutally tight fingers. The injured digit rested over the bone at her wrist, its pressure far lighter than the other fingers. His eyes had gone hard, the ugly amusement stripped from his features.
With a slow shake of his head, he released her, lifting his hand to display the mutilation. “You see what he’s done, don’t you? He took my finger—part of it, for now. He stopped at the knuckle. Next time, he’ll take another bit, and another, ’til I’ve nothing left but a stump. Now, you don’t want that to happen, do you?”
Suddenly lightheaded, she pulled in a breath to compose herself. “No…of course not.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to check you for weapons.”
Damnation, the man had more brains than she’d credited him. Perhaps, with some luck, her heavy skirts would obscure the dagger strapped to her leg.
She held her body stiff as a laundress’s ironing board and gritted her teeth. He skimmed his palms along the length of her body, slowing over the curve of her hips. Even through her clothing, his exploring hands repelled her. She counted her heartbeats, distracting herself from his revolting touch.
Finally, after what seemed minutes but in truth had been mere seconds, he met her purposefully bland expression with eyes that revealed nothing of his thoughts. In his hand, he brandished a pistol.
“Remove the knife,” he ordered. “Throw it to the ground.”
Her heart plummeted. She let out the air in her lungs with awhoosh. There was no point resisting his command. She still had two weapons he wouldn’t think to question.
“Aren’t you the clever one?” She forced a lightness to her tone. Crouching, she unfastened the sheath and tossed the knife aside. “You didn’t expect that I’d travel with such a treasure and no means of defense.”
He caught her arm and tugged her upright. “You and I are going to get into that carriage. Munro is going to drive. And you…you are going to cooperate.”
“We have a mutual goal. I intend to reach Mr. Cranston.”
His attention fell upon her bag. “What’ve you got there? Besides the book?”
She heaved a sigh for effect. “Ah, you’re clever. Here.” Johanna fished the gun from the satchel and placed it in his hand. “In good faith.”
“What else? If ye’ve got another weapon—”
“Take it. See for yourself.” She handed him the case.
After a cursory examination, he returned it to her. “You’re getting smarter. You’ll live longer that way.” Ross stared down at his hand. “We all will.”
With a sharp nod, he ushered her into the coach. He barked several orders to his hulking accomplice, then joined her, taking the opposite bench.
“Have we far to go?” she inquired, forcing a calm tone.
He ignored her question. “All of this would’ve been avoided if you hadn’t gone with that bloody Scotsman.”
She pursed her lips in a show of annoyance. “As if I had a choice in the matter.”
Ross set his mouth in a scowl. “Cranston’s holding all the cards now. For your sake—and the brat’s—you need to remember that.”
The brat. He’d given confirmation Laurel was still alive. She dragged in air and exhaled, steadying her nerves. “My niece…she is well?”
He met her question with a grim smile. “For now.”
Seeming to race against the sun’s descent, Munro drove the horses at a breakneck pace. The carriage rumbled along, jarring Johanna’s teeth to chattering as she stared from the window. Trees and sky blurred as the wheels of the barouche rattled over the crude path. An image of Gerard lying unconscious on the ground invaded her thoughts. Did he continue to breathe? Or had he sacrificed himself to save her and a child he’d never met?
Quiet misery embedded itself in the pit of her stomach. She blinked back tears she couldn’t afford to shed, swiping away the rogue drop that slipped from the corner of her eye. There’d be time for grief later. After she’d taken Laurel from the clutches of desperate men and the ruthless bastard they feared.
