Page 123 of Claimed Highland Brides

“ Aye, it dinnae belong tae Padraig or any Hunter,” Daividh added angrily.

“I-I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. I wilnae disturb ye again.”

Delwyn snorted, getting to his feet.

“Neacel!” The screech startled them all as did the lass hurtling towards them. Maegan skidded to a halt beside Neacel and got to her knees. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

Neacel looked up at Delwyn, his eyes wide and terrified. “Leave me be, woman. I dinnae ken who ye are!” He grabbed Maegan by the arms and was about to push her roughly away.

“Don’t touch her!” Delwyn growled. “Ever. And if I find out you have touched her in any way…”

Immediately, Neacel let go. “I didnae touch her! I swear. She’s as pure as the day she left London.”

Both Delwyn and Daividh ignored him. Both were watching Maegan. She stared at Neacel in horror, as if she had never seen him before. “Neacel?” Her voice was small and she looked very young.

“Take her away,” Delwyn said to the soldier who had fetched her. He nodded and tried to pull her away.

“No! I won’t go. Please don’t kill him! I love him.”

Both men stayed silent as the soldier dragged her away. Delwyn took Daividh’s sword and waited.

“Get to your feet.” Delwyn ordered.

Neacel only cowered in on himself, shaking his head. “Please, no. Let me go, and ye shall ne’er see me agin.”

“Get on your feet, soldier. You will be given a sword and a chance.”

Neacel slowly rose, and one of the soldiers handed him a sword. Delwyn stood straight as a circle was cleared around them.

Before the duel could even begin, Neacel rushed Delwyn, aiming the sword at his stomach, and slashed.

Delwyn gasped in surprise but his hand rose of its own volition, swiping across Neacel’s throat so that it gaped like an open red mouth.

Neacel fell like a stone to the ground and lay there, unmoving. A pool of red flooded the ground under his head and neck.

Delwyn dropped his sword, holding his stomach, and dropped to one knee.

Daividh was right there next to him. “Let me see how bad,” he murmured to Delwyn as he looked at his stomach

Delwyn slowly moved his hand, which was already red with his blood.

Daividh peered at the wound. “’Tis no so bad, if we can get ye to a wise-woman in time.” He turned, looking for Simon. “Help me, mo charaid. We mun’ get him tae Aifric.”

They tied Delwyn’s stomach with a piece of cloth and got him on a horse, Simon riding behind to support him. They took off up the hill, towards Drumacree. As they reached the summit, they saw Jamesina waiting, but she was not alone. A small fire was burning, and a woman was bent over a steaming cauldron.

She looked up. “Hurry up. I mun stitch his wounds before he loses too much blood.”

Daividh and Simon helped him off the horse and laid him down so that Aifric could work. Jamesina came to lie beside him, tears running down her face. “She told me that she was here to see to me but also that I should not worry, for she would save you.”

Delwyn turned his head to her with a weak smile. “That’s good then. You are my treasure. Kiss me better, my dear, so that my wounds don’t hurt anymore.”