Page 5 of Wicked Kilted Highlander

The stranger paused and nodded slightly. "Ye have nae reason to as of yet." He shifted his large frame, causing Lara to flinch back instinctively.

"Please, be at ease," he rasped. "I mean ye nae harm. My name is Darragh, and I’ve come tae set ye free."

Lara hesitated. Is he sincere? No, I cannae trust him. If he’s saving me as he claims, he’ll surely want something in return. Most likely gold, a ransom from me father no doubt. And at what cost are ye saving me?" she challenged him. "What dae ye gain from me escape?"

A flash of irritation crossed Darragh's face before he schooled his features, but it was enough to confirm Lara's suspicions that he was hiding something. "I gain nothing," he replied. "I simply wish tae help one in need."

Lara studied his brutal visage, taking in the hard lines of his jaw, the mesh of scars covering him, and the thick, muscular arms clearly accustomed to inflicting violence. She thought of the cruelty of her captors and how unlikely it seemed that this scarred brute had come to save her merely out of kindness.

As Lara remained silent, Darragh took a step towards her, causing her to flatten herself against the wall. She felt like a helpless rabbit in the sights of a hulking predator ready to pounce.

"Come," he beckoned, extending a hand.

Lara eyed his hand warily, not missing how his tight grip could easily crush her fingers. Though he promised freedom, everything about him spoke of menace and deceit. Lara thought of the guards' taunts and blows, and wondered if this stranger's intentions were any less cruel.

His reassuring words swam in Lara's head like lifeless fish, devoid of meaning. Freedom was an illusion, an empty promise meant to tease her fraying senses.

Yet when she searched his scarred face for any sign of deception, she saw only a guarded sincerity. Perhaps he was not trying to fool her but had his own secrets to keep. Her panic began to subside, to be replaced by a flicker of hope.

"But why are ye freeing me?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Because nae one deserves tae be trapped like this," Darragh replied.

* * *

Darragh glanced over at the woman called Lara. She was in a wretched state, emaciated and filthy. Clearly, MacNeil had had her locked up for a good while. His heart went out to her. He heard her breath catch in her throat as she watched him, clearly trying to understand what was happening. He could sense her confusion and worry and wished to reassure her.

"Who exactly are ye? I heard Kier MacNeil’s dead. D’ye nae work for him then?” she asked.

He shook his head and said with an air of finality. “Nae, I dinnae.

“Are ye hiding something from me?" Her voice trembled with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Darragh glanced at her, wondering how he could convince her of his sincerity. Her lack of trust was not surprising, considering he’d found her in McNeil’s dungeon. Clearly, it would require time to earn her trust, but in the meantime, he wanted them to get out of there fast.

"I ken ’tis hard, but ye must trust me, Lara," he said, his voice hushed yet urgent. "Look, I'm nae one of yer captors. I'm here tae help ye. Now, come on, follow me, through here."

As Lara's wide eyes searched his face, Darragh could tell she was still struggling to discern whether his intentions were genuine or merely a ruse. He held out his hand. “Come on. I promise, I’m nae here tae hurt ye. Please," he urged her, "I ken how ye must feel, but we dinnae have time fer doubts if I’m to get ye out of this place."

As he spoke, Darragh couldn't help but think of his own sister, Lillie, who had been taken from him not that long ago by Kier MacNeil, damn his black soul, but he tried to push the painful memories away.

"All right," Lara whispered finally, her voice trembling with vulnerability as she placed her hand in his. It felt like a tiny bird in his, and his heart clenched with the need to protect her.

"Thank ye," Darragh replied, relief running through him. Slowly, he led her back up the hidden stairwell and out into MacNeil’s study. She blinked in the light and looked around her in amazement, while he pushed the bookcase back into place to shut the secret door.

The air between them was tense, a mixture of fear and uncertainty swirling around like a thick fog. Darragh studied her face, observing the way she pressed her lips together and the slight tremble in her hands.

"Sit down, I’ll pour ye a dram. Ye look like ye need it,” he told her, fetching the whisky and handing it to her. She sat in a leather armchair and swallowed the dram it in one gulp, then gasped, coughing. “That’ll warm yer vitals, but ye need food,” he told her, looking at her skinny frame, noting that she nonetheless had curves in all the right places.

Lara nodded slowly. “Thank ye.” Her eyes never left his as she took a deep breath to steady herself. Darragh felt sorry for her. He knew all too well the toll that captivity could take on a person's spirit, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for her wellbeing.

"Ever since I was taken from my home, all I've wanted is to go back," she explained hurriedly. "It feels like a dream now, but I can still remember the smell of the heather on the hillsides and the sound of the wind rustling through the trees."

Darragh listened intently, his heart heavy with empathy while he moved toward the door again. He could hear the longing in her voice, the desperate desire to return to a place that felt safe and familiar.

"Ye're clearly brave," he told her sincerely, hoping his words would provide some small measure of comfort. "And ye're strong too. I promise ye I’ll take ye home."

"Thank ye," Lara whispered, her gaze fixed upon his face as though she were committing every detail to memory.

Darragh watched as her eyes flicked back and forth between him and the door, betraying an underlying unease he easily understood.

The room fell into a heavy silence. Lara's shoulders slumped. Darragh watched with concern as she closed her eyes, a single tear escaping from beneath her lashes before she quickly brushed it away. "Try tae rest, lass," Darragh murmured. She nodded slowly, and her shoulders slumped a little more.

"I ken ye've suffered much, Lara," he said gently, "but ye're nae alone in yer pain. I've faced loss too." He hesitated, swallowed the lump in his throat and continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Me sister, Lillie… she was abducted a while back. It took us a long time tae find her. The uncertainty, the fear… it can eat away at ye, if ye let it." He shook his head.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice wavering.”

"All is well now," Darragh replied, offering her a tight-lipped smile. "I share this with ye tae show ye that I understand."

She stared at him and nodded, and it was at that moment that he noticed in the lamplight that her eyes were the color of the sky.

“Now,” he said, standing up. “Ye must be famished. Let’s go tae the kitchens and find us something tae eat.”