Page 70 of Highlander’s Captive

When the couple disappeared, he left his post. He checked the dagger that Sir William had given him was in his boot. It was a beautiful, goodbye gift for his years of loyal service as squire. Years during which he’d trained to be an unstoppable warrior. Years he’d been training for the campaign to earn his freedom. When no one else would have the audacity to tell him what to do.

He raced through the courtyard into the great hall. He glanced up to check which of the guards might have seen him. But he knew a couple of watchmen were probably sleeping, and the rest probably weren’t paying attention.

He went into the great hall, which was loud with laughter and music, and stinking of body odor mixed with alcohol. People danced to the music, and he greeted a couple of men to make himself be seen. Then he untied his cloak and left it in the corner. He threw back a cup of uisge, laughed and sang loudly. Then, when enough people had noticed him, he slipped out of the hall back into the night. He raced to the Comyn Tower and up the stairs to the first floor.

Behind the door, in the lord’s private chambers where the Cambels slept, the sounds of a satisfied woman and a man in ecstasy made him chuckle.

Owen, Owen. ’Tis good I kill Craig tonight. Because he’d have killed ye tomorrow.

Hamish continued climbing the stairs until he finally stood before the door into the lord’s bedchamber. A man moaned loudly, and rhythmically, but the woman sounded as though she was struggling.

A low groan escaped his throat. Removing his dagger from his boot, he quietly opened the door. Two figures were moving under the blankets. Craig’s dark head was on top, and Amy’s red hair spilled over the pillow. Her hands were above her head, and he was pinning them to the pillows.

Hamish moved without a sound and came to stand by the bed. Their eyes were closed.

He grabbed Craig’s hair, pulled his head back, and slit his throat in one swift movement. Blood spilled onto Amy in pumping jerks.

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream, but Hamish was ready. He put his hand on her mouth to muffle the sound.

“Shhh!” he said. “’Tis all right, Amy, lass—”

His eyes widened.

It wasn’t Amy. She had the same red hair, but it was a woman he’d never seen.

He cursed. That was one rule he had. Never to harm an innocent woman.

“To all devils of all the red seas,” he mumbled and looked at the man’s face.

Lachlan!

He’d killed an innocent man. He’d actually liked Lachlan. Hamish’s gut was hard and heavy. A tight lump formed in his throat.

He glanced at the lass who was about to scream.

“If yer life is dear to ye, shut up, dress, and come with me.”

He would need to part with a significant portion of his savings today. But it was one rule he couldn’t break.

Innocent women and children were untouchable.

Or he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Chapter 24

Craig tangled his fingers with Amy’s and studied her feminine hand. They were now fully dressed, lying in hay. The horses were asleep, rain drumming softly against the walls and the roof. She was lying on top of him, her weight pleasant and soothing. Her chest moved with his as he breathed. Her scent encompassed him, her hair and skin smelling like sweet grass and rain and her.

Craig felt sated, his body heavy and broad, as though he’d expanded and grown. Lightness filled his chest, the echo of hope that he sometimes felt in spring.

Amy…

She was more than he’d ever thought or hoped she would be. From enemy, she had turned to someone else now. He did not know what yet, or rather, didn’t want to put a label on her.

She might still do something to break his trust and hurt him. Hurt him like he’d never been hurt before.

Because what he really wanted to call her, was his love.

The love of his life.