Beneath a Highland Moon (The Highland Moon Series 1) Read Online Free

said. Slowly she crept further down the stairs, stopping midway to listen again. The voices were clearer now, but she recognized none of them. Jillian began to shake, as fearful images of what she would find raced through her mind. A wave of apprehension swept through her and she hesitated, before taking that last step onto the floor.
    As she entered the great hall, she noticed several strange men leaning along the outer wall of the castle, whilst others sat at the tables keeping the servant girls busy filling their cups with mead. A few of them tended fresh wounds she guessed came from the earlier skirmish with her own guards. Jillian quickly estimated there to be at least thirty or more.
    She stifled a gag from the stench of so many unwashed bodies in one room. That—along with the scent of fresh blood—made Jillian nauseous. Even the sweet aroma of the fresh rushes strewn about the floor didn't help the assault on her senses. She'd expected to find many dead or injured men lying about. There were none of either, but in several places along the floor a great deal of blood had soaked into the rushes. She prayed that it belonged to none of her own. She felt as if a hand had suddenly closed around her throat. Never had she felt so alone.
    When she walked further into the room, all eyes fell upon her and a wave of panic washed over her. She looked at each of them as she passed, searching for a familiar face. But Jillian knew none of them save one, and she'd but seen him twice in her life. Her earlier assumption had been correct. This band of intruders was being led by none other than Gordon MacRae. And Jillian didn't have to guess at the reason he'd come. She already knew it to be the title.
    Ignoring the lecherous taunts and rude gestures being tossed about the room, she continued on until she stood directly in front of Gordon—sitting in her papa's favorite place beside the fire. Anger welled up in Jillian at seeing him there. His black hair, beginning to gray, hung near to his shoulders and a thick beard of the same hue covered the lower portion of his face. His eyes were the exact blue green color as her father's—the only thing the man before her and Angus MacRae had ever held in common.
    Seething with mounting rage , she spat out, "What have you done with my guards, and where is Roderick, my father's sword bearer?"
    Gordon MacRae 's mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. "Your guards are in the dungeon, and as for your sword bearer, he should be arriving here at any moment," he said with a smirk of satisfaction.
    Her temper flared and her hands closed into fists. "The dungeon! " She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You had no right to do such a thing, especially if some of them need a healer. Release them at once!" Jillian shouted, her voice sounding shakier to her ears than she would have liked.
    H e threw back his head and roared with laughter, which was followed up by the same response from the others.
    " Calm yourself, woman," Gordon said, with a wave of his hand. "Such minor injuries as the ones they acquired will heal with time. I gave strict orders that no one be killed—unless absolutely necessary, of course."
    She glared at him. "Somehow I find that hard to believe."
    " Why?" he asked, raising his brows. "After all, 'tis MacRae blood that courses through my veins as well. As for releasing your guards, that depends on what your answer will be after I make you a proposition—one that I feel will best suit the both of us, as well as your much younger brother."
    Jillian crossed her arms and glared at him. "What sort of proposition?" she asked, wondering what the devil he was up to. It made her especially nervous that he'd included Ian.
    Instead of answering her question , he rose from his seat and looked past her. "Och, here comes your sword bearer now."
    Jillian turned to find Roderick limping toward them, escorted on either side by one of Gordon's men, his belted plaid and shirt heavily soiled with