Page 217 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“You have her, John,” St. Claire said. “She cannot get past us.”

“Want me to hold her?” another said.

John grunted, then shouted, “I did it.”

Was he panting?

“You would think he cornered a lion,” one man said.

St. Claire chuckled. “She did put up a fight.”

Rhoslyn broke from shock and lunged forward, nearly tripping in her rush to reach them. St. Claire’s head snapped in her direction. Amusement seemed frozen on his face. In that instant, his unguarded expression confused her, and she couldn’t reconcile the man who had tenderly freed her from the bed where her rapist had tied her with the man who cheered on a wisp of a boy while he raped a woman. The look vanished and she jarred from her confusion when his eyebrows dove down in a fierce frown.

He started toward her. “What is it, Lady Rhoslyn?”

She pushed past him and around the building, then stopped cold at sight of John with—

Iron fingers closed around her arm and swung her around. “What is amiss?” St. Claire demanded.

“I—” She cut her gaze back to John.

“Rhoslyn.”

She looked back at St. Claire. “I—”

John halted in front of her, gripping the reins of the horse their stable master had recently broken. Ina sat astride the animal.

“Look, my lady,” Ina said. “John has given me this horse. He is teaching me to ride.”

The young man blushed, for he was sweet on Ina and everyone knew it.

No one laughed or teased him this time. They all stared at her. St. Claire’s gaze sharpened and she read understanding in his eyes.

He released her and said to John. “Lead the horse around the bailey for your lady’s first ride, John. Let them both grow accustomed to the saddle.”

The boy’s blush deepened and he started toward the courtyard.

When John had passed, St. Claire turned to her. “Will you walk with me, Lady Rhoslyn?”

Inwardly she cringed. But she nodded and they began strolling in the direction John had gone.

Once they were well out of earshot of his men, he said, “Do you really think I would stand by and watch a man abuse a woman?”

Shame flushed her cheeks. “I am sorry.”

“I have not gone in pursuit of Dayton,” he said.

The abrupt change of subject startled her.

“I wanted—want—nothing more than to look under every rock in Scotland for him. But I made the mistake of not protecting you as I should have and I feared...” His words trailed off, and Rhoslyn found she couldn’t speak. He looked down at her. “Mayhap my not going gave you the impression—”

“Nay,” she cut in. “I never thought that.”

“Until now.”

She lowered her eyes. “I truly am sorry.”

A group of men approached and St. Claire cupped her elbow and steered her around them. His gentle finger pressure sent a strange heat through her and she nearly snatched her arm away once they passed the men.