Highlander Mine Read Online Free Page B

“with no living relatives left in Edinburgh, we’ve come to seek out this cousin. But then, out of nowhere, a band of renegades surrounded us, attacking as one! Ours was a fine enough carriage, filled with all our belongings. They took everything. James tried to protect our family heirlooms. We told him to let them have it, that it wasn’t worth his life, but he wouldn’t listen. He was loyal to his bones.”
    James. His father’s name. An odd choice for our fictional driver. But then, I knew Hamish’s bond with his father had never been a strong one.
    “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Katriona said, her mild empathy laced with more pronounced vestiges of disbelief. “Who are these bandits in black? I had no idea such people even existed.”
    Unfortunately, Katriona’s skepticism aggravated the little devil in me, the whispering contrariness that resided persistently within my character no matter how hard I tried to banish it. That she would so immediately question Hamish’s sincerity irked me, even if she had good reason to do so. I found myself yearning to bolster my nephew’s story to support him, and to silence her. “Oh, I’d never heard of such a thing, either,” I said. “At first we thought them an apparition, a wayward fear that might have stepped out of the fathomless pages of medieval history, traveling as we were through such unfamiliar territory. It was why our escort was so unwilling to cooperate with them. We simply couldn’t believe we were being robbed so aggressively, and in such an idyllic setting. And when they demanded we step free of the carriage, I was relieved, at least, that they intended to let us go. I willingly bargained with them, giving them all our possessions, my jewelry—most of which belonged to our dearly departed mother—our horses and the carriage itself in exchange for our freedom, even if it meant we might wander for days on end without any sign of shelter or assistance. But James was worried about our safety under such conditions. He argued. He refused to relent.” I faltered here, almost getting swept away in the emotional momentum of my tale. “’Twas a brutal end,” I finally said. “But thankfully, Hamish and I were allowed to flee. We hid behind the incline of a small hill until they were gone.”
    “If I’d had this knife,” Hamish added, “I’d have run after them.”
    Christie’s eyes sparked with concern as she pictured our harrowing ordeal. Lachlan, however, sported a completely different expression as his gaze flicked back and forth between Hamish and me. If I wasn’t mistaken, he appeared faintly amused, more relaxed than a soldier should have been when confronted with news of this kind: that evildoers were loose in his near vicinity, that his noble charges might be under dire threat. I had no way of knowing if he was reading our lie with ease. I suspected it. Maybe, as a seasoned soldier born of these lands, he knew that there were no black-clad bandits wreaking havoc; he’d know of them if such people existed. Maybe he’d banished those that once prowled these lands himself. Or he’d listened at the knee of his warrior father, who’d killed them off one by one.
    If Lachlan did detect our dishonesty, he made no effort to expose it. His concentration returned to his ale, from which he took a long drink. For this I was profoundly grateful. I decided I liked him, and if there was ever a way I could ever reciprocate the favor, I would.
    I realized that Hamish was now holding something in his right hand, the hand that was not currently occupied with the glinting, oversize weapon. A bag, small and blue. Exactly the same fabric, in fact, as the dress that Christie wore. A matching accessory.
    My heart thumped with a clenching realization. Nay, I thought. He hasn’t. He’s pickpocketed her! I knew only too well how deftly skilled he was. One might have argued that our predicament was severe enough to warrant theft, or worse. But it was