Highland
Honor
Christine
Young
Excerpt
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Scotland
November 1512:
A
heavy frost sat on the frozen earth, and a full moon shone clearly between the
heavy clouds dotting the sky. Lady Callie Whitcomb looked over her shoulder as
she raced through the deepening gloom toward the lighted tavern ahead. Every
shadow, every mournful sigh of the wind sweeping through the trees, every
chilling animal sound filled her with terror. Fear for her life drove her to
put all thoughts of danger aside. He would follow her, find her, and drag her
home.
Home.
"Don't
think of that now," she reminded herself fiercely, even while tears stung
in the back of her throat and fear made her limbs tremble. "Don't you dare
think of home. It no longer exists." Nothing and no one could coax her
back or make her believe there was naught but terror in the home where she'd
been born.
"I
will never marry Lord Huntington. Never!" she whispered fiercely, the
chill night air solemnly echoing her words.
Her
stepbrother, Archibald Covington III, made sure she could never return.
"There
ye be, lass! I've been waiting for you."
The
voice rose from nowhere and surprised her. Her heart froze, lurched, then began
an erratic beat, while raw nerves snapped, sending a myriad of sensations
racing down her spine.
"Archibald--"
she whispered, panic sweeping through her. "He's found me." All she
could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears.
Before
she could reach her destination, before she could find safe refuge from him,
his men had found her. No! Not now. Not when she thought she had eluded them
all.
A
wave of fear sweeping through her reminded her, that if caught, she would be
taken back to Archibald and forced to marry Lord Huntington.
"I'll
help you down, lass."
"No."
Before
she could react and spur her horse forward, callous, rough hands centered on
her waist then pulled her from her mount.
"No!"
She cried out to no avail. Regaining her wits, she beat fiercely upon the man's
broad chest, tearing at his face and his thick beard with her fingers.
"Ach,
lass! Hold still! I mean ye no harm. Stop this--" His voice was gruff and
impatient.
Fear
for her life had spurred her haste. Terror she might see Huntington or
Archibald with each turn of the road haunted every hour of her journey.
Archibald had retainers everywhere. Messages would have been sent. A highlander
could be bought.
"Ruffian!
Unhand me! You barbarous Scotsman."
If
Archibald had guessed what path she followed...
"Verra
well, ne'er let it be said that I dinna do a lass' bidding." Just as
suddenly as he'd grabbed her, his hold upon her vanished. She stumbled
backward.
Instantly,
she found herself sitting on the frozen earth. The man towering above her
watched her with concerned dark eyes. Despite the scar stretching from forehead
to chin, his mouth quirked upward in a humorous slant.
"Ye
be a handful, lass."
Mary
of A Romance Review says, "Overall
I liked the story and can recommend it as a worthwhile read. The author has a
lot of talent and the plot and tension of the story are well handled."
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