Page 6 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

“And where will I find this herb?” she asked, her jaw tightening. The shaking in her body had finally lessened, but the terror was still sharp.

“It grows in me garden,” he replied, his eyes sweeping over the plants. Almost stubbornly, he did not reveal or even hint at which it might be. “And I may be willin’ to help ye if ye agree to me terms.”

“I daenae care what the terms are,” Aurora said before she could think over just how foolish it was to agree to a strange man’s terms without hearing them first. The only thing that mattered was healing her brother. “I need the cure. I will do whatever it takes to get it.”

The man did not say anything for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her as he seemed to weigh the truth of her words. Then, he nodded to himself before saying, “Come. Ye will wait for me outside of me cabin.”

He did not wait to see if she was following him. As she trotted after him, her smaller legs struggling to keep up with his long strides, she understood why he was so confident. If she ran, surely someone would track her down and find her. She might not be a stranger to running, but she did not think that she could evade two teams of men chasing after her.

“I expect to find ye here when I return,” he said sharply, not bothering to look at her before walking into the cabin that seemed to function as his workspace for the garden.

Alone, Aurora’s mind ran wild with terrible possibilities. She should not have trusted this man, but more importantly, she should not have let herself get caught. The sight of the ipecac had distracted her. It was so rare that she would have believed the rumors were simply tall tales.

This mistake could cost both of us our lives.

Just before she lost her mind, the cabin door opened, and the man stepped out. His hair hid his features, and she could not read his expression. But in his hand was a vial with an herb she could not name in a world so dark. When she reached toward him, he pulled it closer to his chest, keeping it just out of her reach.

“I will prepare the treatment ye need,” he said, each word making Aurora’s stomach sink. “But only if ye agree to become me wife.”

“Yer wife?!” she demanded, nearly dropping the plant in her hand. “Ye cannae be serious.”

The man’s face remained impassive. He held his vial near his chest, watching her as if he had offered a great deal rather than demanding she sign away her freedom. Her jaw tightening, she looked out at the herbs waving in the cool, night breeze.

“Ye are bargainin’ with an innocent life,” she said, her fear morphing into raw fury. “What could possibly possess ye to demand I marry ye to get the cure me an innocent soul?”

“I am Laird Hendry Anderson, of Clan Anderson,” he said, his imposing presence suddenly making much more sense. He took a few steps toward her, the herb still held tightly in his hand. “And ye are a stranger who has trespassed upon Anderson land while concealin’ yer identity. I could have punished ye already by throwin’ ye into me dungeons, yet I’m offerin’ ye a bargain.”

Aurora was silent, unable to take her eyes off the little vial in his large palm. Finally, she said, “I cannae marry ye. I would only bring trouble to yer door. I am hunted, and the man who is huntin’ me will hunt ye as well.”

“One trouble at a time,” he said impassively. “All I need is a bride-to-be to stand beside me when I face me council and the Scottish Managers tomorrow.”

“Even if that meant invitin’ more trouble in?” Aurora asked, unsure of why she was continuing to fight. With each minute that passed, Adair inched closer to death.

She had reached the end of the path. There were no other options but the one in front of her. Her only hope was that she was doing the right thing.

“Ye willnae make me patient wait until we are wed to treat him, aye?” she asked finally, refusing to show the defeat she felt on her face.

“Nay.” Again, she could hear the healer’s training he must possess underlying the word. Though she could not trust any of his motives, something told her that she could trust his herbal skills. “I willnae make him wait.”

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Aurora nodded and gave a small but respectful curtsey. “Then I will marry ye, Laird Hendry Anderson of Clan Anderson.”

“Poppy opium,” Hendry said, taking the ipecac from her hands before immediately turning to enter his cabin once more. “I will mix the tincture now.”

When he disappeared, Margo wondered what she got herself into. At the very least, it seemed that the Laird was a man of his word. And, when he returned less than ten minutes later, his determination made her feel like maybe something was going right.

I still daenae trust him.

“Take me to this mysterious patient then, little thief,” he said, indicating that he would follow her.

Without another word, Aurora looked toward the path she had taken in. She began walking, not looking behind her as she picked her way through the darkest corners of the garden. It was not until they left the castle grounds that she let herself relax a bit.

Her anxiety built as they navigated the twists and turns to the cottage where she and Adair had been hidden. “We have been stayin’ here,” she murmured when the building came into view.

He grunted in acknowledgement, watching as she reached for the door with a shaking hand. Closing her eyes, she sent up a prayer that she had not made a grave mistake. Then, she led the strange man, the Laird of these lands, her future husband, into her brother’s sick-room.

Chapter Four

“Aurora,” a small, strained voice croaked when they stepped into the room.