Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,3

his padded cotun hadn’t actually penetrated his chest. But relief mixed with rage when he realized the wee dark-haired lass had probably meant the weapon to pierce his heart.

He plucked the strange steel piece from his cotun and dropped it on the sod. Then, with a growl of ire, he lunged forward, upending the malicious maid like a sack of barley over his shoulder.

It was only then that he turned and got a good look at the third lass.

What he saw took his breath away, stopped his heart, and nearly made him drop his burden.

A beautiful Valkyrie appeared to have fallen from Valhalla. The maid was tall and slim. Not willowy, but strong. Despite her plain dress—a simple, woad-blue kirtle with a girdle of leather wrapped in silver chain, and a small silver pendant—she had a regal bearing.

If her two companions were as savage and scrappy as wildcats, she appeared to be their calm mistress. Courageous. Cool. Collected.

Her long braided hair, several shades blonder than his, shone like white samite in the moonlight. She lifted her chin high with pride and held her gently angled jaw steady. Her bright eyes gleamed with intelligence. But it was on her soft, full, kissable mouth that Colban’s eyes focused.

When she began to speak, he was so distracted by the lovely movement of her lips and the even tone of her voice—in light of the violence surrounding her—that he hardly heard her words. Until she casually suggested that he and Morgan release her friends.

Release them? The vicious, spitting lasses who were still struggling in their grasp? She had to be jesting. His heart was still pounding from his brush with death. There was no way in heaven—or Valhalla—that they were going to let the bloodthirsty wenches loose to do more mischief. Especially when they discovered the dark-haired one was harboring several more pointy and vicious weapons.

Still, it was a valiant attempt on her part to secure their freedom.

In the end, Morgan had no choice but to take the maids prisoner and hold them in the castle for the night for everyone’s safety. They could sort things out on the morrow.

The laird, who trusted no one else to keep the wily wenches from escaping, stored them in his bedchamber and guarded the door himself.

And Colban, trusting no one else to serve as the secondary line of defense, returned to his post at the palisade gates.

He was secretly glad Morgan was watching over the lasses. After a final lingering look at the one they called Hallie, Colban didn’t trust anyone else to keep their hands off the breathtaking Valkyrie.

Chapter 3

Once Hallie spied the comfortably appointed bedchamber with the enormous, fleecy bed that would serve as their prison, her mind was made up.

Their captors might be savage Highlanders. Burly. Brutal. Bold.

But the laird obviously meant them no harm. He’d treated them with honor, graciousness, and civility. With little more than a word of warning against their escape, he’d closed the door behind him. She could therefore expect him to be reasonable on the morrow when she negotiated for their release.

If she could just keep her ungrateful cousins from interfering with those negotiations. Neither of them appreciated the careful diplomacy Hallie had employed, the diplomacy that had won them the Highlander’s trust and their comfortable lodgings for the night.

At the moment, beneath her surface of icy calm, Hallie seethed with irritation and disappointment. Irritation that impulsive Jenefer had acted alone, without thought of the consequences. Disappointment that Feiyan had flouted Hallie’s authority, bringing weapons and nearly killing an unarmed man.

If Hallie couldn’t manage to rein in her own cousins’ rebellious habits, how would she manage to get them out of this? And how was she ever going to take command of an entire clan? It was a laird’s responsibility to keep her clansmen safe, and that included keeping them safe from their own foibles.

Now Feiyan and Jenefer had begun bickering so loudly they’d awakened a babe in the adjoining chamber. It was crying inconsolably.

With an exasperated sigh, Hallie made her cousins swear they wouldn’t attempt a brash escape until she sorted things out. Then she burrowed under the fleece to try to get a good night’s sleep.

That was not to be.

Though Hallie managed to half-doze through hours of wailing, it was the babe’s abrupt silence in the middle of the night that startled her awake. She rose up on her elbows, instantly suspicious.

A chill draft was wheezing through the window. The fire had blown out. The shutter must