Page 210 of Wicked Highland Heroes

She couldn’t reach the rock Isobel had climbed. Rhoslyn fell back two paces, scanning wildly for another rock. She spotted the kennel master racing past toward the dogs. The boar veered toward him. The man skidded to a halt, then whirled back toward the group as Rhoslyn stumbled toward a tree fifteen feet away.

An arrow whizzed past her. She glanced over her shoulder. The boar suddenly turned her way again. A spear sailed through the air and grazed the boar’s back. Blood spurted from the wound. He bellowed, lowered his head, and charged.

“Duck, Rhoslyn!” her grandfather shouted. “We canna’ shoot him with ye—”

Her toe snagged on something and she crashed to the ground. Pain splintered through her shoulder. She rolled onto her back, the snarls and growls of the hounds deafening. The boar leapt into the air. Rhoslyn screamed and brought her arm up. An arrow pierced the beast’s heart. He squealed. Another arrow tore through his hind quarters as he dropped like a stone onto her legs. His hooves scored the ground and he growled low. Two more arrows whizzed over her, stirring the hair on the boar’s neck and disappeared into the grass.

Rhoslyn started to push up, but movement in the corner of her eye jerked her gaze to the right. St. Claire stood, bow aimed as an arrow jettisoned from the weapon toward her. She jammed shut her eyes. The boar jerked and she snapped her eyes open. The arrow protruded from the creature’s skull, a hair’s breadth from her thigh.

Her grandfather dropped down beside her and shoved the boar off her legs. He seized her and pulled her upright. Her legs gave way beneath her and St. Claire caught her and swept her into his arms. Rhoslyn buried her face in his chest and the tears fell as if a dam had broken.

Warmth enveloped her and a low, deep voice whispered incomprehensible words. She went limp in St. Claire’s arms and cried until, at last, her sobs subsided and she became aware of the low murmur of voices, as well as the hilt of the sword pressing against her leg. St. Claire breathed deep and the solid wall of warmth her cheek rested against rose and fell with the action. Rhoslyn released a stuttered breath.

“Rhoslyn. Rhoslyn. Are ye all right?”

Rhoslyn recognized Andreana’s voice, and the tremor that made it sound as if she hovered on the verge of tears. Rhoslyn couldn’t find her voice, so simply nodded. The shock had worn off, and embarrassment set in.

“If you can ride, we will return home.” St. Claire’s voice reverberated through her.

“We need not return home,” she spoke against his chest.

“Nay, lady. I would prefer you return home.”

Her shoulder ached and she realized she did want to go home. Rhoslyn nodded He gathered her closer and started to stand with her in his arms. She pushed upright. As expected, everyone surrounded them. Her cheeks burned.

“I can stand, St. Claire.”

“Let him carry ye.” Andreana said.

“Andreana—”

“Please?” Tears shimmered in her stepdaughter’s eyes.

Rhoslyn sighed. “Aye, he can carry me.”

Andreana grasped her hand and pressed it to her cheek. A lump formed in Rhoslyn’s throat. How lonely and scared had Andreana been all those months Rhoslyn deserted her? Andreana released her and St. Claire stood. He called out an order for one of the men to pick up the boar while the rest prepared to leave.

“There is no need for everyone to return,” Rhoslyn said. “The day is young. Send a few of your men with me, and the rest of you continue the hunt.”

He shook his head. “Our guests may continue, but you ladies will return with me and my men.” They reached the horses and St. Claire lifted her onto the saddle. He turned and said to Lord Kinnon, “What say you, my lord, would you prefer to continue the hunt?”

A hard gleam appeared in his eyes. “I suddenly have a taste for wild boar—lots of wild boar. If you can spare your spearmen, I would see if there are any of that boar’s kinsmen in the vicinity.”

St. Claire nodded. “I will leave the archers with you, as well.”

Lord Kinnon smiled.

Minutes later, the party split up, and Rhoslyn rode alongside Andreana and Lady Isobel surrounded by fifteen of St. Claire’s guardsmen with him at the lead.