man, his English accent full of misplaced authority. Not Boyd, thankfully.
They were far enough away from Mackintosh lands and Boyd that Jenny prayed the men wouldn’t recognize Toran or Archie from their daring escape from the garrison. But more so, she prayed that this ruse would keep them on their way without incident.
Toran’s horse stilled. “We aim to cause no trouble,” Toran called out in a meeker voice than she’d ever heard him use before.
“We’ll be the judge of that,” answered the dragoon. “What are ye doing out here?”
Toran slapped Jenny hard on the rear, and she gritted her teeth. “My wee brother got into a bit of trouble with some lads. Seems to have drunk himself into a deep sleep, that is when he’s not retching his guts out.”
There were a few grumbles and something she took to be an insult given Toran’s stiffening tension beneath her.
“My cousins helped me fetch him back, and we’re headed home. My mother is quite beside herself,” Toran said, sounding quite believable.
“Beside herself for raising such a foolish no-good troublemaker. Let us take him off your hands and teach him a thing or two about respecting one’s mother.” The dragoon’s laughing comment was made with a cruel edge that had Jenny’s blood running cold. Was it possible this man was worse than Boyd?
Toran let out a strained laugh. “I thank ye for the offer, but I assure ye, he’s needed at home and already likely to get the belt when he gets there.”
The redcoats snickered. “I’ve a better idea. Let us give him the belt now, and then we’ll let ye be on your way. The last thing we need is a bunch of wayward drunken Scots cavorting about our countryside.”
Her countryside! She wanted to shout and rave at them but kept her teeth firmly clenched against each other, else she give them all away.
Toran let out a laugh. “I think my ma deserves first crack.”
“I think your ma deserves a cock in her arse,” growled a dragoon, which only had Toran stiffening even more beneath her.
To talk of his mother like that after the awful way Moire had died was tantamount to drawing swords. Dear God, let him take a moment to push the vulgar words aside.
Jenny pinched his calf in hopes of keeping him in check, but she could already feel that this unfortunate meeting with the dragoons had turned from bad to worse. From what she could make out, there were four horses in their party to her five. They could easily take the redcoats on, but not without consequences and perhaps alerting other dragoons in the vicinity to their whereabouts.
“Now, kind sirs,” Dirk said. “Let us leave his ma out of this. We ask that ye allow us to pass to get our wee kin home. Ye recall what it’s like to be a wee lad, nay?”
“We were never filthy Scots. Perhaps ye’d like to take the punishment for your wee kin,” he mocked their brogue, “yourself.”
“There’s no need for that,” Dirk was saying.
“We’ll be the judge of what’s needed. Give us the lad now.” Their voices were sharp and edged with danger.
Now that lines had been drawn, there was absolutely no way these bastards were going to let them go without giving Jenny a thorough beating.
She started to shift, but Toran pressed his hand firmly against her rear, causing her to still.
“I’ll do it,” Toran said to the dragoons. “He’s my brother. I’ll take his beating if ye give us your word ye’ll let us pass when ye’re through.”
Jenny’s throat went dry, and she wanted to scream. This was not the way he needed to prove his loyalty. This was not what she’d wanted when she’d laid across his lap and trusted he would handle the English. This was utter madness!
She pinched him again to show her resistance to this futile plan.
“All right,” sneered the dragoon. “Get off that horse and strip off your shirt.”
Toran transferred her to Dirk’s lap, and it was the hardest damn thing she’d ever done to keep her eyes closed and her mouth slack, her body flopping, when she wanted to protest, to fight.
She heard Toran’s feet hit the ground, boots crunching as he walked to meet the bastard redcoat.
“If even one of ye makes a move to protect your kin, I’ll have ye shot,” the dragoon was saying. “Get against the tree, filthy Scot.”
Jenny blinked open her eyes very slowly to slits, hoping no one noticed. All the dragoons’ eyes were firmly