Page 54 of Highlander’s Mercenary Lass

Three burly guards marched in through the door, grabbing Andrew with force. It didn't stop Grace from trying again to set him free.

"Put him down! I'm the lady o' this clan! Dinnae listen tae Paton," Grace pleaded with them. The men didn't stop. They grabbed at Andrew, manhandling him through the door.

Andrew fought for all he was worth, but there were three of them, and all of them were on top of him.

"Come on, lad," rasped the largest, a heavyset man of about forty years. He looked at Andrew keenly. Vaguely, Andrew recognized him from the battle with the Kennedys.

His heart sank. Paton truly had got his acolytes in place. An anger filled him. In desperation, he reached to the head guard.

"Nay," he said brusquely, then, with an attempt at being persuasive, he turned his green eyes upon him. "Brother, why are ye doing this? Yer laird was Marcus, nae Paton. Ye should be listening tae his bairns—an' Grace is his firstborn!"

But Andrew's pleas met deaf ears. The man simply blinked at him, then, pulling him roughly, the three of them dragged him off, down along the hallway.

Grace watched through cupped hands as Andrew was led away. Before she could open her mouth to scream, a hand muffled her.

"Nay, lassie, ye cannae do anything tae help yer wee sweetheart now."

It was Paton, his gray eyes alive with venom. Beside him, a pair of guards stood watch. Grace's eyes rounded on him.

"Ye've got nay right!" she exploded as Andrew disappeared down the hallway. "Bring him back noo!"

Paton just laughed. "Take him tae the jail, lads, an' let him cool off there until I'm ready for him!"

From the back of the corridor, Andrew's voice echoed down the hall. All Grace could hear was his voice, crying again and again, "Dinnae marry Paton, Grace! I beg ye!"