He was going to regret this. He already did. Yet, when he swung up behind Sybil and pulled her tight against him, his heart raced.
And it had nothing to do with the twenty riders who had just crested the hill.
CHAPTER 2
The Highlander moved so quickly that Sybil found herself sitting astride his horse before she knew how she got there. She sucked in her breath when he swung up behind her.
“Hold on,” he said, his breath in her ear.
An instant later, the horse bolted forward. The Highlander leaned low over her, encircling her so that every part of her was touching brawny man as they sped into a gallop.
Good heavens, she was riding off with a stranger. This was bold, even for her. Perhaps she should go back…
When she turned to look behind them, her heart went to her throat. A long line of riders was heading for the castle.
“Those are royal guards—I can see their banner,” she said, peeking between the Highlander’s arm and his chin. “God no, they’re turning! They’re following us!”
“Keep your head down, damn it,” he said. “They have archers with them.”
No sooner had he spoken than an arrow zipped past his arm and between the horse’s ears. The Highlander curled his body around hers in a gallant effort to protect her as another arrow whizzed over their heads.
“How dare they?” she said. “The fools could hit us!”
The queen was angry, but she would not want her men tokillSybil. Surely not.
She heard athunk.
“Curan,” the Highlander said in a soothing voice as he patted the horse’s neck.
Sybil thought the poor beast had been struck, but when she looked for the arrow, she saw it was sticking out of the Highlander’s thigh. She sighed. Her escape had been dramatic but short-lived.
Despite the blood running down his leg, the Highlander showed no sign he was aware of his injury. Instead, he continued speaking to the horse in Gaelic, urging it to gallop still faster. But surely he could not ride like that for long.
“Can’t ye see you’re injured?” she shouted over the wind in her face. “We can’t go on.”
“We’re not stopping till we lose them.”
The Highlander’s determined tone and evident skill as a rider eased her panic. Perhaps her escape was not finished yet. They crossed the field and sailed through the air over a burn at a mad gallop. The Highlander rode as if he and his horse were one. Even before she felt him lean to the side or tighten his thighs, his horse anticipated the signal and sensed where he wanted to go.
“We’re out of the range of their arrows now,” he said. “Here, hold the reins.”
“But—” Before she could object or ask why, he had wrapped her hands around the reins and let go. Fortunately, she was a good rider, but he did not know that.
The grass was a blur beneath them as the horse flew over the ground. From the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of a blade. The Highlander had a knife in his hand.Heavens!
For a moment, she feared he meant to stab her and drop her to the ground to divert the men following them. But another quick glance revealed that he was cutting a strip from the bottom of his tunic.
“I need both my hands for a wee moment,” he said, “so don’t fall.”
Don’t fall?“Ye don’t intend to bandage your leg while we’re galloping, do ye?”
“’Tis that or bleed to death,” he said between clenched teeth as he snapped off the arrow.
While keeping his balance as if he were sitting on a rock instead of hurtling over hills and valleys on horseback, he tied the strip around his wounded thigh. Sybil’s heart pounded in her ears, and she tasted blood from biting her lip.
He grunted as he pulled the knot tight. Finally, the Highlander was finished and took the reins from her. The makeshift bandage had taken only a few moments, but it had felt far longer. Sybil sagged against the stranger’s chest as his arms surrounded her again.
“Ye did well,mo rùin,” his deep voice rumbled in her ear.