Highlander's Beautiful Liar A Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance Historical Novel - Adamina Young Page 0,73

her feet, it snapped with a crack that made her flinch. The man looked up, and although his eyes were wide with fear, he moved fast. As Malle stepped in front of him and tried to block his escape, he gave her a hefty push and she landed on her backside amongst the pine needles, then he jumped onto his horse and urged it forward. It leapt away and put on a surprising burst of speed before Malle had struggled to her feet.

She jumped into the saddle and Arthur sprung forward. The horse in front was smaller and much faster than big powerful Arthur over a short distance, although his sheer muscle power would win out in the end over a longer stretch. Moreover, a thick mist was rising from the waters of the Cut, the stream that separated the two estates, and the other rider was disappearing from sight. They were nearing Dunbar land, and Malle knew that it would be more than her life was worth to put a toe over the boundary. If she did, she was likely to be arrested and thrown into the Dunbar dungeon for as long as the Laird cared to keep her there.

Malle MacEwan was not afraid of many things; she had been trained in riding, swordsmanship, and archery by experts, and could also handle a knife and dagger with ease. There was only one thing in the world that gave her nightmares, and that was being put in a cage, a cell, or any small space from which she could not escape.

She could see that the boundary of the Dunbar land was now very close. It was a ten-foot-wide burn called the Cut, because it cut a line between the two estates.

Now I’ve got him! she thought triumphantly, expecting him to stop at any minute.

However, the smaller horse did not even slow down; it leapt from five feet behind the edge of the bank and landed the same distance away on the other side. Malle’s jaw dropped open in surprise even as she scowled with rage. She brought Arthur to a halt at the water’s edge and sat, fuming.

“If I ever see you on my father’s land again,” she said, and her voice throbbed with rage, “I will swipe that ugly head right off your skinny shoulders! Do you hear me?”

The man looked shocked and penitent, but Malle was not sure whether his expression was genuine. “Why Mistress, it was wee Mairi here.” He patted his horse’s neck. “We were oot rabbit huntin’ an’ ane o’ the wee so-an’-so’s ran in front o’ her an’ gied her a fright. She threw me right on the flair an’ ran aff. Ye saw how she flew ower the burn—she jumped right intae your side o’ the fence. I went tae get her back, she is my only horse. I’m awfy sorry.”

“A most interesting tale,” Malle said dryly, cocking her head to one side and folding her arms. “Unfortunately, I do not believe it. I believe you were about for some less than honest purpose of your own.” Her voice was harsh.

The man shrugged and spread his hands. “I wis tellin’ ye the truth. I never tell a lie.” His face looked long and doleful.

Malle ignored the self-pitying whine of his voice. She sat looking at him for a while; he was an undersized creature with a small, sad face. “What is your name?” she demanded.

The man opened his mouth to answer, but someone else did it for him.

“His name is Fergus McDowell,” said a deep, gravelly voice. The owner of the voice came striding out of the mist. It was Craig Dunbar, the tall, strapping heir to the Dunbar estate, and judging by the thunderous scowl on his face, he did not look happy to see her.

Chapter 1 - Confrontation

Craig Dunbar’s reputation preceded him, and looking at him, Malle could see why. Due to his extended stay in Aberdeen, she had not seen Craig since he was in his teens and she was a little girl, even though their estates were very close to each other. Even then it was only from a distance, since the Dunbars and MacEwans did not mix.

When he was eighteen and she was nine. He had seemed enormous, even though he had been much shorter than he was now. However, this was a different Craig; now he had grown taller and broadened out to become the epitome of masculinity.

He was well over six feet tall, with shoulders that