Page 121 of Claimed Highland Brides

“Then I shall do it all night at least.”

She giggled harder, covering her mouth to muffle the sound. “Dinnae make me laugh while my brother-in-law is cutting off ears not five steps away.”

“Oh, my apologies.” He bowed gallantly. “I shall save my declarations for another time.”

Daividh stepped up to them, his hands bloody, chest heaving. “We have a location. We’ll set out at first light. Get some rest.”

* * *

Simon rode silently, occasionally getting off his horse to ensure they were still on the right track. The Hunters might have covered their tracks but Delwyn and his guide had not. Furthermore, it seemed as if they were followed by at least six more people. If Simon were to guess, he would say that the laird had ventured out to rescue his sister-in-law.

Of course he has. Daividh would not sit at home if one of those lassies were in trouble.

Simon felt heartened by the numbers because it increased their chances of success. He spurred his horse onward, wanting to go faster. He had expected Delwyn’s sister to complain about the lack of rest stops but she rode stoically, keeping up with the rest of the men without effort.

Suddenly he heard horses snuffling while a soft voice tried to soothe them. He put a hand up, to stop the forward motion of his men, and quietly slid off his horse.

“Stay here,” he whispered before melting into the underbrush, in an effort to sneak up on the other person. Still, it came as no surprise to him, to find a sword at his throat.

“State yer business.”

He smiled, recognizing the voice at once. “Sawney mo charaid. Put down the sword and greet yer captain like a proper soldier.”

The sword didn’t move but Sawney came closer to peer into Simon’s face. Slowly, he dropped his hand and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I dinnae ken ye were behind us.”

“I came from the opposite direction. Heard of Mistress Barton’s plight from the wise-woman.”

“Aye weel, ’tis a good thing for we might need ye tomorra.”

“Wha’s happening tomorra?”

“We’re a-going tae the Hunters’ camp.”

Simon nodded. “Ye’ve found the trail?”

“No, we found the girl but Neacel is no wi’ them.”

“That is guid news.”

“Aye. The laird’s very relieved.” He held up a package he was holding. “I mun’ get back. Mistress Barton’s awaiting this food.”

“Aye o’ course. Hold a minute while I get th’ others and then we can go.”

* * *

The soft neighing of horses had them all tensing and everyone had their weapons at the ready as the clip-clopping sounds came closer. Whoever was approaching, they were not trying to be silent. Suddenly the grass parted and Daividh caught sight of Simon. He huffed in relief, put down his weapon, and went to hug his cousin.

“Where did ye come from?”

“Drumacree. The wise-woman sent us to help yon Sassenach.” He pointed with his chin to where Delwyn had Jamesina wrapped securely in his arms. Sawney was bending over them, handing over the package of food that Delwyn proceeded to hand-feed to his wife. Simon and Daividh’s eyes met, eyebrows raised. They both smirked before Simon turned to more pressing issues. “Ye have the location of the camp.”

Daividh pointed at the prisoners. “We have a location. We shall see tomorra if it is correct.”

The newcomers were silently made welcome as the fire was rebuilt and the various groups shared what food they had with the others. Jamesina fell asleep in her husband’s arms as he continued to cradle her, pensively staring into the fire. He seemed a bit put out that his sister had come along but did not blame Simon for it.

“She’s headstrong and used to getting her way. If you hadn’t taken her with you, she probably would have followed behind.” He gave a long, tired sigh. “We have to watch her. I am not entirely sure she would not betray us to this Neacel fellow. She seems quite taken with him.”

Daividh had been gratified to hear him cast his lot with them even over his sister’s desires. It soothed his ire when he saw how well the Englishman tended to his wife.