Highlander Most Wanted Page 0,38

ensuring no danger posed a threat, and then she went to seek out one of the senior Montgomery soldiers she knew to be trusted by both Bowen and Teague.

“You sir, by what name are you called?” Genevieve demanded as she strode up.

The hulking man frowned down at her, seemingly puzzled by the fact she carried a bow and a quiver half-full of arrows.

“I am called Adwen,” he said gruffly.

“You must ride to intercept Teague Montgomery with all haste. If you do not overtake him before he arrives on Montgomery land, you must go to their keep and apprise Graeme and Teague Montgomery of all that has occurred. We are vulnerable to continued attack from the McGrieves and the remaining McHughs. You may also tell the Montgomerys that Patrick McHugh is dead,” she said flatly. “We need reinforcements as badly as we need food and supplies. Bowen has been injured in the battle and ’tis unknown what his condition will be. Give his brothers a full accounting.”

Adwen straightened and then motioned for two others to join him. Then he glanced back at Genevieve with something that resembled respect gleaming in his eyes.

Almost too late, she realized that she was uncloaked. She hadn’t given care to anything but quitting her chamber as quickly as possible. There was no hiding her disfigurement.

She turned quickly, presenting her unmarred cheek as heat rose up her neck and suffused her jaw. The urge to rub her hand over the rough, puckered skin was strong, but instead she curled her fingers into a tight fist, determined not to give in.

It mattered naught what these warriors thought of her. She wanted no man anyway. What did it matter if none desired her or looked kindly upon her?

Bleakness assailed her, because though it shouldn’t matter, what lass didn’t want to be looked upon with favor? What lass didn’t want to feel beautiful?

“I will depart at once, mistress,” Adwen said, his tone still respectful. “I’ll give report just as you’ve outlined it to me.”

“Then go with God, and a safe return to you and your men,” she said.

He inclined his head and then turned sharply on his heel, barking an order to the two men accompanying him. They were bloody and looked battle-weary, but they didn’t flinch at their duty and Genevieve respected them for that. They hadn’t questioned her word.

She hurried toward the keep entrance, anxious to see how Bowen fared. The blood worried her, but she knew not where he’d been injured.

She stopped first in her chamber to put the bow and arrows away. She slid a finger lovingly along the worn wood bends and then solemnly closed the trunk, pushing herself upward to her feet once more.

Swaying precariously, she closed her eyes momentarily and steeled herself against the inevitable reaction setting in. She’d not spend a single moment regretting her actions. Nor would she allow Patrick McHugh to cast a pall over her. He was dead. No longer a threat. Vengeance was finally hers.

Her eyes popped open as she remembered Taliesan, sequestered in the tower, likely terrified and wondering the fate of the keep and clan.

Gathering her composure and breathing deeply to reinvigorate herself, she hurried out of her chamber and traveled to the far end of the hall, where once she’d been imprisoned, and where she’d existed for an entire year.

She beat soundly on the door, calling to Taliesan to open. A few moments later, there was much scuffling heard and then the door creaked open, only the dim glow of a few candles emanating from within.

“Genevieve!” Taliesan cried.

She was enfolded in Taliesan’s hug. Beyond Taliesan, many of the women and children huddled inside the small room, their gazes anxious as they stared at the two women embracing.

Against her will, Genevieve’s heart softened a bit at the fear so clearly written on the faces of the women of the clan. And the children. Eyes so big and wide. Their lives had been turned upside down by the selfish actions of an inept laird.

She didn’t want to feel anything for these people. They’d all been a party to her misery and humiliation. They deserved nothing from her, and yet she couldn’t turn her back on them, even if it was what she wished to do.

“What has happened?” Taliesan asked, pulling away. “Are we safe?”

The other women leaned forward, eager to hear. For once, there were no disparaging looks, no insults hurled, no name-calling. They all looked … vulnerable.

It was a feeling Genevieve was well acquainted with.

“Patrick attacked

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