Realizing they were outmatched, the rest of the bandits followed suit.
With no more opponents, Iain let the tip of his sword fall to the ground. He stood panting in much-needed air, gazing from one caravaner to the other. Colin was the first to breakout laughing. His sons hooted and waved their broadswords at the fleeing men’s backs.
They were government men. Scottish who fought for the English. He wondered whose orders they were under. Cumberland must have sent them to search out Jacobites. He should have thought; he should have killed them all. But once they’d taken Abigail, he had lost his head. They would know he was a Jacobite and would surely report back. He had put the MacDonalds in danger, and Abigail too.
The bonny lass’s eyes did not see him, did not to see anything. The storm had died within her eyes, and confusion swam in its wake.
He tightened his jaw. He had to get her to her family, to safety, and the sooner the better.
Chapter 13
Abby was paralyzed as she attempted to process what had just played out before her. She’d dealt with scoundrels, like the man who stole her purse on the street, but she’d never in her entire existence expected to be nearly engaged in a blasted sword fight. Attacking, killing, defending was a way of life for these people.
Those kinds of scenarios belonged in her history texts and enthralling epic fantasy novels. She gazed unseeingly around her. It was far too much for her to fathom. Numbness and inexplicable fear simultaneously pervaded her emotions, one doing its best to overcome the other. It was a dreadful combination and she was left feeling exposed and inadequate.
Abigail searched out Iain. He pierced her with his gaze, waking up her numb body. She ran to him and flung her arms around his waist.
He brought her in close. His strength, not just physical but emotional, propped her up, fortifying her shaking legs and calming her breaths. Her heart still beat too quickly, but the rhythm altered, and instead of it rearing up in fright, it pattered like butterfly wings in her chest.
He rested his chin on the top of her head and stroked her hair to where it was caught in the braid. The tips of his fingers lightly brushed her neck at each pass, sending electric thrills through her body.
Iain’s hand moved from her side to her lower back. The charge increased as shivers ran down Abigail’s back. His fingers spread over her skin.
Everyone crowded around Iain and Abigail. “Go on,” Colin said. “Kiss yer wife.”
Iain let out a noisy frustrated breath and, kissing the top of her head, moved apart from her.
The men slapped Iain on the back and thanked him for his bravery and skill.
Abigail reluctantly stepped back to allow them room for their greetings.
The women hugged and kissed him. Abby wasn’t overly keen on the women kissing Iain, but she agreed wholeheartedly that he was a fine, brave man.
She’d been so scared when the bandit grabbed her. She’d thought she would have to save herself again. She’d thought no one would come to her aid. Why would they imperil themselves for someone they didn’t know?
Her own boyfriend, in what now seemed like a previous life, had left her alone to fend off a gang of youths, intent on stealing whatever valuable she had. Peter fled from the park as Abby cried out his name.
She hadn’t even called out to Iain, but he, an injured Scotsman, roared at the man who manhandled her. Iain’s eyes had flashed with dark fury as he bore down on the bandit with his sword. He had cut the man’s hand where he’d held Abby and chased the rogues away with his fierceness. Yet, he had not made her any promises. She was not his to protect, yet he fought for her like she was his own.
Tears burned Abby’s eyes at both scenes. One filled her with angry hurt, and the other overwhelmed her with emotion.
Iain gazed intently at Abby. She wiped her eyes, refusing to let the tears flow. Something hard and cold sparked in Iain’s gaze. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No.”
***
After a celebratory feast of dried meat, bread, and watery wine, Iain built a smaller fire away from the main one. He covered the ground with a blanket and stretched his body out full-length upon it.
“Come here, Wife.”
His twisted smile was downright sexy, and it sent excited shivers crawling all over Abby. She glanced at her newfound friends. Mary smiled at her and then returned her attention to her husband.
With dark—sultrywas the only word that came to Abby’s mind at that moment—eyes, Iain held up another blanket and shook it. “Wife.”
She couldn’t refuse, nor did she want to. She took the blanket, sat beside him, and pulled it over both their bodies.
“Thank you for today,” she said.
