Page 157 of The Highlander's Princess Bride
Alec touched her arm. “Are you cold, lass? I think there’s an extra—”
A massive jolt cut him off. As Victoria started to slide off the seat, Alec grabbed her. A moment later, the carriage rocked to a halt at a considerable angle. From outside they heard shouts and the thud of horses’ hooves.
Victoria pushed her bonnet out of her eyes. “What’s going on?”
Alec peered out the window and cursed. “Do either of you have pistols?” he asked the officers.
The sergeant, groggy from his doze, blinked in confusion. “Ah, what?”
“Are you armed?” Alec growled as the shouts outside the carriage increased in volume.
“No,” Gow said. “Mr. Fletcher thought it best we go unarmed, saying it would anger Lord Arnprior if we came with pistols.”
“Perfect,” Alec said in disgust.
“What’s going on out there?” Victoria asked.
“Whatever happens, just try to stay behind me.”
She gaped at him. “Are we being held up?”
“I—”
The door to the carriage flew open, and a veritable hulk of a man loomed in the doorway. He was certainly not an appealing sight. A jagged scar ran across his face from jaw to ear, and the most deplorably dirty cap she’d ever seen was squashed down on his forehead.
Those details, however, were rendered insignificant by the sight of the large pistol he had, pointed at her face.
“Ye’ll be gettin’ yerself out of the carriage, wench,” he barked. “And ye’ll be doin’ it smartly if ye don’t want to be dead.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Victoria stared in horror at the pistol, then at her cousin. “This isn’t a robbery, is it?”
Alec flicked his gaze to her before returning it to their assailant. “Not on Kendrick lands. No one would dare.”
Sergeant Blair bristled like a rooster. “Here, now.” He jabbed a finger at the man with the gun. “Ye’ll be holdin’ up an officer of the law. Put that bloody pistol down and get ye out of here.”
“I’ll be happy to put a ball through yer skull, ye grunter, so shut it,” the thug growled.
Blair flushed but held his tongue.
“Come on, you,” their captor said, jabbing his pistol at Victoria.
“Best do what he says,” Alec said in a calm voice.
Victoria managed to stand, even though her knees were wobbling like jelly. As she moved to the door, Alec and Constable Gow exchanged quick glances. She guessed that it meant they’d take action if an opportunity presented itself.
She hoped they would have the chance.
After carefully descending from the carriage, Victoria cast a quick glance around. Her heart plummeted straight to the ground.
The coachman and groom were kneeling in the grass under the watchful eye of several exceedingly unpleasant-looking men. There were five in all, including her captor. They all carried pistols, but for one fellow who stood off to the side. That one had a rifle trained on the coachman.
The thug shoved her away from the carriage and toward the woods. She immediately stumbled over uneven ground and almost fell, catching herself just in time.
“Keep your bloody hands off her,” Alec growled as he stepped out of the carriage.
“Or ye’ll do what?” sneered her captor. “Now get ye doon on the ground and keep yer bloody mouth shut.”
