Highland Escape - Cathy MacRae Page 0,62
ye what it means to be a woman.”
He followed his taunt with a stinging swat to Anna’s backside, hard enough to propel her forward. Anger ignited Anna’s blood, accelerated by the accompanying laughter of his companions. She shot a warning look to Duncan to stay out of it, shoving his chest for emphasis.
She took a quick side step toward the man who’d hit her, bringing her knee up high to her chest. Using the momentum of the step toward this oaf, Anna released a sidekick, driving her booted heel into the center of his chest. Her stepping kick knocked the breath from his lungs with an exaggerated grunt, and sent him sprawling backward onto the floor, his head bouncing off the flagstones.
Not allowing him time to recover, Anna grasped his left hand, twisting it away from his body, locking both his wrist and elbow. Bringing one foot down on his neck and jaw, she stretched his arm out further.
“You will apologize, mongrel, or lose the use of these fingers,” she snarled.
He struggled against her hold, but she had the lock cinched tight and his struggling only caused him additional pain.
“I willnae apologize to a wench who plays at being a man!” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“As you please,” she answered. An audible snap sounded as Anna pulled his smallest finger out of socket at the second knuckle, causing it to protrude at an odd angle.
A loud yelp and an anatomically impossible curse flew from his mouth.
“Apologize!” she yelled at him.
“Nae, never!”
She responded by displacing his third finger, creating a louder snap. This time, his fellows groaned in sympathy with him, but none dared come to his aid.
Anna glanced at Duncan, who leaned against an empty table, arms folded across his chest, a smirk on his face. Only the taut muscles of his jaw belied his calm expression. He warned off the MacGregor men with a glance and slight hand gesture. Before she could demand another apology, Duncan spoke up. “What is yer name, Graham?”
The man on the floor continued to hurl curses, each more creative and colorful than the last, as he struggled uselessly against her hold.
“What is his name?” Duncan calmly asked the man seated nearest to him.
“Angus.”
“Angus, I would like ye to meet Anna of clan MacGregor. She has been adopted by our laird, my father, as a daughter, and is my future wife if she will have me.”
Anna shot Duncan a look of astonishment. The expression on his face showed no emotion except the silent fury he barely contained.
“I have seen her defeat six Highlanders in battle unassisted and another two warriors from my own clan. She saved yer commander’s life this afternoon. Ye might want to reconsider yer position on that apology.”
The men seated at the table stared at her with disbelief. Anna scowled. She was not letting this cur up without an apology. Otherwise, some other man from this clan would take issue with her appearance and try the same or worse. No, she would set an example here and now. Not caring to ask again, Anna jerked his second finger out of joint, the accompanying snap the loudest yet.
The doors to the inner hall slammed open and a large man, dressed in a laird’s finery, barreled in.
“What the hell is going on?”
Chapter 16
The man glanced from Anna to the man she had trapped. “Angus, what trouble are ye causing my guests?” he demanded, his face an indignant shade of red.
Angus’s manner changed. “No trouble, m’laird. This lady offered a lesson in weaponless combat.” Glancing up at her he gritted his teeth “I apologize for me earlier actions and doubts of yer ability.”
Anna was not deceived by the apparent sincerity of his apology. Releasing his neck, she used the wrist she held to haul him to his feet.
“No offense taken, I am sure, Angus. Allow me to assist you with your hand,” she said with a smile and sarcasm sharp enough to cut. Taking each finger individually, Anna repositioned them into place as sweat ran from Angus’ brow.
“Be sure and wrap those tightly. They should be fine within a fortnight.” She leaned in so only Angus could hear her. “If you ever touch me again, I will gut you like the pig you are.”
He flinched, eyes wide, as the point of her small dagger prodded him below the belt. Turning toward her host, Anna hid the dagger and bowed to the Graham laird.
The Graham responded with an assessing glance and wry smile. “Come, the