Page 78 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“Maither, get back!”

Bryce crushed Ceana harder against his chest until each breath came shallow. Her heels slid through the earth as he dragged her onward.

With her vision blurring and time running out, she took a deep breath before she screamed at the very top of her lungs. “Oscar!”

Oscar, who was several yards away, forcing a Gilmore soldier away from the side door, stopped mid-swing. He turned, and his face hardened when he saw Bryce’s arm around her. He roared some order she was too weak to hear. Soon, his men closed behind him as he changed direction.

The first soldier in his path raised a sword. Oscar drove him aside and kept advancing. A second tried to sneak behind him, and Lennan met the man before he reached Oscar’s back.

“Release me wife,” Oscar barked.

Bryce pressed the blade to Ceana’s ribs. “Daphne belongs to Angus.”

“That is Ceana. Ye have me wife.”

Oscar lowered the point of his sword and turned his wrist, as though preparing to throw it aside. Bryce’s gaze dropped to the blade.

He looked at Ceana. “When I move, drop.”

He stepped forward, and Ceana dropped to her knees. Her weight pulled her downward, and Bryce’s arm slipped from her ribs to her shoulders. Oscar struck Bryce’s wrist with the hilt of his sword. His free arm then caught Ceana across the waist and pulled her behind him. She fell on one knee. Heather reached her and wrapped both hands around her shoulders.

Bryce recovered his footing with his blade still in hand and lunged at Oscar, reaching for Ceana again. Oscar stepped into the attack and drove his sword into Bryce’s chest.

The sound of the blade tearing through flesh rang out across the field. For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. Then Bryce fell where he stood, blood pouring from his chest and pooling across the mud.

Oscar withdrew his sword and turned away from him. He passed the sword to Lennan, dropped beside Ceana, and cupped her face in both hands.

“Can ye breathe?”

“Aye.”

“Deeply.”

She drew air until the ache beneath her ribs stopped it.

Oscar’s hands moved over her shoulders and down both arms before pressing carefully along her sides. “Where did his blade touch ye?”

“It didnae pierce me.”

He found the dark marks forming above her sleeve. His thumb stopped beside one, and his hand shook once. His gaze then cut toward Bryce’s body before returning to her.

She knew the pressure of his fingers. He used the same careful strength to test each rib through her gown, watching her face whenever he applied pressure.

Wrong moment, Ceana.

Lennan raised his voice over the western lane. “Laird Gilmore is dead. Cast down yer weapons.”

The sound of steel struck the earth as men began to surrender.

“Accept their surrender. Disarm and bind them,” Oscar ordered.

Others fled toward the low-burning pyre, and a Morrag man followed them until Oscar called him back.

“Nay man crosses the burn. Send help to the wounded on both sides.” He kept one hand around Ceana’s wrist as he spoke.

“I can stand,” she said.

He rose with her. Her legs shook under the first step, then folded. He caught her before her knees could hit the ground.