The horse’s nostrils flared, his dark eye scanning over her as though even the animals had been trained to despise Scots. Jenny took a step back, partly as an act and partly because she genuinely wondered if the redcoat would order his horse to trample her for the fun of it. She’d heard a tale of this happening only the month before, near Perth.
“Allow us entry into your home,” he demanded.
“What? Why? Ye dinna think they are inside, do ye?” She laughed, stalling for time. “I assure ye, ’tis small enough I’d have noticed.”
They did not laugh back. The one who seemed to be in charge made a grunting sound and pointed at the entrance to the croft. Two dragoons dismounted, peeled off from the group, and started for the door.
“Please,” Jenny said, her face feeling like it might crack from her smile. “My house is not suitable for guests.”
They ignored her, which she’d guessed they would, slogging through the damp earth toward the croft. She hurried forward, reaching the dragoons before they reached the building. As she’d done countless times before, she pretended to trip in their path, effortlessly maintaining the balance of her basket so as not to spill its contents. Her fingers itched to grab the pistol, but she was outnumbered by many, and doing so would not aid in their cause.
Jenny let out an “oof” as her body slammed against the earth, blocking their way.
“Foolish wench, get up,” shouted the man in charge of the dragoons.
Jenny reached her hand up, keeping her face from showing any revulsion at the touch of a Sassenach, but it was hardly necessary. Neither of them offered to help her up in the first place. Bastards.
When she made a great show of trying to stand, her feet getting caught in her skirts, the captain shouted again, this time dismounting as he did so. “Get out of their way. I’ll not hesitate to have you whipped.”
Jenny bristled, keeping her head tucked down, and managed to get to her feet. The dragoons shoved past her, and all she could do was pray that she’d bought the men inside enough time to get into their hiding spots in the trenches beneath the floorboards. If not, this moment could be their last.
Four
When Jenny had ordered Toran to stay put, her pistol pointed at him as she donned her costume and exited the croft, he’d been quite truly speechless. The lass thought to protect them? Shouldn’t she be tossing him to the wolves as she’d surely done to his mother? Or dispatching him, as she’d promised when he’d tackled her to the ground?
Her words came back to haunt him… As much as I’d like to toss your arse out there, I’d never willingly give up anyone to the redcoats, even if they are my enemy. They’d been spoken with a truthful vehemence, and he couldn’t help but question his own belief in her involvement. Was it possible that his uncle, that Boyd, had fed him the wrong information about his mother’s death?
Now was not the time for questioning.
He was still in shock that she’d actually had the ballocks to aim her pistol at him and press her knife to Archie’s neck. It was damned impressive, the kind of strength he’d rarely seen in a man, let alone in a woman. In fact, today was the first.
It was a day for firsts too. Because never before in his life had he disarmed a woman and pinned her to the ground. Guilt riddled him at having further injured his cousin in the process, but the edge of her dagger had been pressed too closely to Archie’s neck.
He’d not saved his cousin only to have someone else kill him. Every muscle in his body was still taut, his chest pulsing with anger, and Archie was eyeing him from across the room as though he’d gone mad.
Why the hell had he let her leave? The answer to that was twofold. One, he didn’t have a choice; that lass was going to do whatever the hell she wanted. And two, if she had a plan, it was the only thing that might not get them all killed.
When she’d pulled on the ridiculous and unflattering gown, tucking her bloody weapon into her basket as though she were going bullet picking instead of berry picking, his first instinct had been to tell her she was addled, take her pistol as he’d already done once, and go out to face the bastards himself.
But it