Highlander Most Wanted Page 0,61

hooded cape and then gathering the hood tightly at her chin so her face was hidden from view, she left her chamber and hurried down the stairs.

Not wanting to risk going through the hall, she slipped through the door to the courtyard. She stayed close to the keep as she rounded the corner to head beyond the walls to the river.

Perhaps she’d merely sit on the hill overlooking the grassy section where sheep had once grazed. There was only one sheep and her lamb, left only because Patrick had likely been unable to catch them. But the grassy knoll was pleasing to the eye, and it brought her a measure of peace to soak in the beauty around her.

She sat with her back pressed to a huge rock outcropping so it would shield her from the view of anyone looking from the keep. Pulling her legs to her chest, she rested her chin on the tops of her knees and let out a deep sigh.

It was such a beautiful afternoon. The sun was still high, and only just leaning toward the horizon in its descent. The skies were painted a vivid blue, with not so much as a whisper of clouds to mar the perfect canvas.

She inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet-scented air. The sun’s rays bathed her in warmth, caressing her skin and instilling a comfortable lethargy. A nap would be next to heaven. Just her stretched out under the Highland sky, with the sun dancing across her flesh while the wind whispered a soft melody in her ears.

Her eyes were closing, her muscles loosening as tension seeped from her body. She had nearly drifted off, her thoughts and dreams of forgotten places, when a sound rudely jerked her back to awareness.

Her eyes flew open and her head whipped up to see that there was an intruder on her solitude.

Fear and dismay gripped her throat and squeezed her stomach when she saw that Corwen McHugh stood only a short distance away, a belligerent look on his arrogant features.

Ice spread through her veins until she was numb. What was he doing here? His presence could mean nothing good. Not for her.

Instinctively, she scrambled to her feet, turning in the direction of the keep, looking for something … anything.

“Are you happy now that you’ve brought destruction on the whole of the McHugh clan?” Corwen barked, his voice angry and petulant, like a child deprived of having his way.

But he was no child. A chill snaked up her spine, and she shut her mind to the awful images that her memories conjured.

He had long been her tormentor, and she hated him for that.

“I’ve done naught that was undeserved,” she gritted out.

Corwen’s lips twisted into a sneer. “You’re naught but a whore, and you were treated as such. ’Tis thanks to you that Ian and Patrick both are dead. Cursed female. You bring nothing but death and ill fortune.”

Hatred took hold and she glared fiercely at him. “Aye, ’tis true enough. I am cursed. You’d do well to avoid me lest you suffer the same curse.”

For a moment, she saw a spark of fear in his eyes, and she thought he might well simply turn from her and hasten away. But then his eyes darkened and his face twisted into something dark and evil. Menacing.

He advanced, too quickly for her to escape. She tried to back away but stumbled, and her arms flew out in an attempt to steady herself.

He caught both her wrists and yanked her up against his body. She opened her mouth to scream, but he tossed her around so that her back was pressed to his chest and he clamped a hand over her mouth.

She fought back, kicking, hitting, twisting her body frantically as she tried to escape his hold. She attempted to bite the hand covering her mouth and he yanked it away long enough to strike her with his balled fist.

She went down hard, sprawled on the ground, stunned by the blow he’d administered.

“Stay down, whore,” he spat. “You’re naught good for anything but spreading your legs. You’ll give me ease or you’ll receive a sound beating.”

A strangled cry ripped from her throat, past already swollen lips. She tasted blood, her mouth split from his fist.

She tried to roll away and rise to her feet, prepared to run as she’d never run before. But he was on her, knocking her facedown to the ground, her breath torn from her chest.

His weight pressed her down, and she struggled to