The man that grabbed her earlier reached out, but she and Mary stepped back with a shriek. He kept advancing, and a shot pierced through the air, echoing in the silence of the woods. The man clasped his chest, looking down at his hand that was covered in blood, his eyes wide in disbelief.
“I warned ye.” Malcolm kicked out, his boot landing on the man’s chest and pushing him into the other man, who lost his balance.
As he tried to scrabble to his feet, Malcolm reached out grabbing him by the shoulders before spinning him about. His fist pounded into the man’s meaty jaw. Once. Twice. Three times.
The sound was sickening to Lizzie’s ears.
The man went limp and Malcolm looked around wildly. He holstered his pistol and ran up to them.
“Are ye alright, Lass?” His hands rubbed up and down her arms as he assessed her.
She nodded, unable to speak. He’d saved her. Saved Mary. Saved them both.
Against two men. By himself.
“Get in the carriage, ladies.” He pushed his hands through his hair as he looked at the two men on the ground.
She was certain he’d killed one of them.
“I need to secure these louses afore they wake.” He opened the door to the carriage and ushered them inside. “I shan’t be long. Stay put. Please.”
When he didn’t budge, she nodded her head, and then he was gone. She heard him rummaging through their bags, and the tearing of material.
“Did ye see how fierce the earl was, Miss? He saved ye from the reivers.”
“Us, Mary. He saved the both of us. I’ve no doubt he would have acted the same whether I was here or no’.”
They watched out the window of the carriage as he bound their hands and legs then secured them each to a tree.
“Are ye certain ye both are well,” Malcolm asked again as he stepped inside the carriage.
“Aye. Thank ye, my lord.”
He was opening and closing the fingers of his right hand, the knuckles bruised and starting to swell.
She moved in front of him, taking his hand in hers. “Ye’re hurt.”
“Nay, Lass. I am fine.”
But he winced when she touched one of his knuckles that had a deep cut on it. Without a thought, she lifted her gown and managed to rip some cloth from her chemise. She dabbed at the wound and he let out a low hiss.
“Ye acted so verra bravely.”
“Any man would,” he countered, his eyes boring into hers.
It was as if they were the only two people in the carriage. Mary melted away. The men outside melted away. It was only the two of them there in this moment.
“I dinna think any man would have done what ye just did. Ye fought with two men. And won.”
He brought his other hand up and stroked her jaw.
She leaned into the caress.
“I couldna let aught happen to ye, Lass.”
Her breath hitched at his words. Words that sounded almost like a confession. His eyes flared as they focused on her mouth. Her hands stilled and she swallowed.
Hard.
Did he want to kiss her?
