Page 3 of Brigand

She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to go through that again.

Oh, it had been glorious while it lasted—especially thatkiss. Ewan had been perfect. So handsome. And so heroic. He’d saved her life.Once when she was a girl—a stupid girl—she’d gone out on the iced-over loch toplay. She’d gone through, into the freezing water, and he’d risked his life tosave her. He jumped in after her, found her deep in the swirling waters,dragged her to the surface and hauled her out. But as he struggled outhimself—ice cracking under his much greater weight—a sharp edge had sliced himopen. He would always carry a jagged scar on his chest for saving her.

Oh, how she had loved him.

Her heart still ached whenever she thought of him.

Because he’d been there one day—such a large part of herlife, part of her girlish dreams—and then, just like that, he was gone. No one wouldtalk about him. When she asked, her father turned purple and pressed his lipstogether. At her frequent queries, all the servants turned away.

Though that was years ago, Violet still wondered what hadhappened to him, that boy, the one who’d kissed her once and ruined her for allother kisses.

She’d never forgotten him and she never would until the dayshe died.

Part of her dreaded having a season, choosing a husband,simply because, in a way, it meant replacing her Ewan with some other man. Onewho could never live up to her expectations.

She shivered. “Perhaps we should go back.”

With a sigh, Hortense turned and they headed toward thehouse. It was a long and laborious journey. Possibly because Hortense wasmoving so very slowly. She was hardly motivated to scuttle quickly. She andAgnes really did not get on.

Then again, no one got along with Agnes.

They reached the edge of the sprawling gardens, halfway tothe manor. Hortense put a hand to her side and gusted a sigh. “Is it reallythat far away?”

“It’s not so far. But here. We’ll go slowly.” Violet tookher arm and let her aunt lean on her as they strolled. “Or we can sit in thefolly for a bit.”

“Bah. A folly. Why Agnes would waste good money on that bitof froth, I’ll never know.”

“It’s a nice place to sit when the walk is too long. Shallwe?”

“I suppose.” One would think Violet had asked her to muckabout in the stables, the way she grudgingly agreed. Hortense was something ofa curmudgeon but Violet adored her. They turned onto the yew walk and headedfor the folly.

They were nearly there when a man in a voluminous cloakleapt out from between the trees.

Hortense screeched and reared back. Instinctively, Violetstepped between her aunt and this threat, though her heart thundered.

One did not expect a man in a voluminous cloak to leap outfrom nowhere onto this bucolic scene.

And grab her by the arms.

But he did.

“Where is she?” he snarled.

It took a moment for her mind to clear, but when it did,Violet knew him at once. Callum MacAllister, Kaitlin’s brother. The beast whowanted to sell her into an unwanted marriage to a foul villain. Dread coursedthrough her. The wild expression, the way the veins in his neck stood out, thepinch of his fingers on her flesh didn’t help.

“W-what are you d-doing here, Callum?”

“You know damn well.” His grip tightened and he gave her alittle shake. Violet was certain there would be bruises on her arms tomorrow.“Where the hell is she?”

Outraged, Hortense jabbed him with her cane. “Unhand her,you fiend!”

Callum yelped and let Violet go, but then he grabbed heragain and whipped her around, using her as a shield against furious swats.“Where is she?” he hissed into her ear. “I know you’re hiding her.”

“Who? Who?” Aunt Hortense punctuated each word with a whack.Unfortunately, they all hit Violet.

“Please…” More a plea to Aunt Hortense to stop smacking herthan to Callum to release her, but neither paid her any mind.

“Where. Is. She?”