Page 41 of Scot of Seduction

“That was different,” Bran said hotly.

“How? How on earth was it different?”

“I didnae bed every woman in sight before I got tae ye!” Bran argued back.

“How romantic,” Catreena muttered from behind them. She regretted her words however when both of them glared at her.

She looked away, choosing to focus on the forest that bordered their path. The Douglas firs were thick with icy frost. Amongst the whiteness, she could have sworn she saw something black move, but then decided it was in her imagination.

“Me braither is older than ye, Bran,” Ilyssa reminded him. “Maybe he didnae think of marriage so chose an alternative path.”

“I cannae believe ye are forgiving of this. Ye’ve scoffed at yer braither’s ways many times.”

“Aye, and I also ken how much me braither thinks he deserves a life of misery after what happened tae our faither.”

Catreena saw that shadow move again. She was sure of it now, enough to stop riding, but as she did so she caught Ilyssa’s words.

“What? What did ye say?” She looked ahead. Ilyssa glanced back over her shoulders. “A life of misery?” Catreena repeated. Suddenly, she was there again in that room of the inn, when Tad had woken abruptly, dreaming of his father’s killing.

“He’s been punishing himself for years, Catreena,” Ilyssa said, her face morose. “Why dae ye think he cut himself off from anything deeper with a woman fer so long? Luckily, ye broke through those barriers.”

“Ah, please stop, Ilyssa,” Bran abruptly begged.

“Why?”

“Because ye’re making me feel guilty fer punching him so many times.”

“Ye should feel guilty,” Ilyssa snapped. “It’s a wonder he didnae punch ye tae a pulp when he found out about us. I love ye, Bran, but ye’re such a hypocrite right now I cannae bear it.”

Catreena couldn’t join in with the argument. Her gaze was drawn toward that shadow moving through the trees. It was unmistakably moving toward them and in his hands was something rounded on one side, with a fine point.

“Crossbow!” Catreena shouted the word in warning.

“Get down,” Bran was the first to respond. He jumped down from his horse and grabbed Ilyssa, dragging her off her own mare just as the first bolt shot through the air around them.

One of the horses bolted from beside Catreena, spooked by the shouts and what followed, a cascading flurry of bolts. Most ended up in the ground near the hooves of Catreena’s horse. She worked hard to keep the mare under control, but the animal was snorting restlessly, unable to keep completely still.

“Take cover,” Bran roared at her.

Catreena had no choice. The horse would no longer ride anywhere for it was so spooked. She leapt down from the animal, just as one of the guards tried to shield her. A bolt struck his shoulder. Bellowing in pain, he dropped to his knees.

“Nay,” Catreena muttered, backing up as she saw one of the shadowy figures from the tree moving forward. Most moved toward the group of guards, dark hoods raised, hiding their features, but one man, who was not afraid for his face to be seen.

Cillian Grant was leading them, but when his eyes slid to Catreena, he stepped her way.

“Nay. Nae Catreena.” Bran pushed Ilyssa behind him, drawing his sword as Cillian’s soldiers advanced toward him. “Lay a hand on her and ye’re dead, Cillian. Ye hear me, ye’re dead!”

Catreena reached for the dirk she carried hidden in her skirts. She snatched it up high, backing up as Cillian advanced toward her. She struck out, but he caught her wrist as if it was nothing more than a twig and bent it back. She was forced to drop the dirk as he caught her skirts with his other hand and dragged her forward.

“Nay!” Bran tried to get around the guard, but he was flanked by too many soldiers. One struck him across the back of the head, and he fell, unconscious, striking the frosted earth like a plank of wood.

“Ye want her back?” Cillian called, flicking a rope around Catreena’s wrists. She tried to fight him, to untangle herself, but he was too strong. She was suddenly reminded of that night in the forest when Tad had pointed out how easy it would be for a man to take advantage of her. That night, it had been a game when he took the dirk from her, but this was no game. It was frighteningly real.

“Let her go!” Ilyssa begged, dropping to her knees and guarding Bran’s life with her own, a dirk clutched in her trembling grasp.

“Then come to the Valley of Stags at dusk. Tell yer husband and tell yer braither too.”

Catreena pulled back, trying to fight, but then something struck the back of her head. She saw stars, then all went black.