Marti Talbotts Highlander Series 1 - Anna Rachel u Charlet

Kevin hoped for and he held his breath.
    Kenna narrowed her eyes. “Are you too old to answer my question?”
    That riled Laird MacDonald. “See here, Charlet, you may not speak to me that way.”
    She swung her hips just a little to taunt him and he noticed. Every man in the room noticed. “I decline your offer of marriage. I will not bed an old lad.” She turned, walked back up the stairs with her head still held high, and opened the nearest door. She didn’t even look back before she slammed it shut behind her.
    Laird MacDonald jumped at the noise and then turned to glare at Kevin. But when Kevin only shrugged, he stormed out with his guard right behind him.
    Everyone inside the Keep waited, list ened for the sound of the horse’ s hooves going across the wooden bridge and then collectively let out a sigh of relief. Kenna opened the door a crack, saw they were gone and then flew down the stairs. But instead of running to Kevin, she threw herself into Anna’s arms. “I was so frightened.”
    Anna held her tight. “You were wonderful! Had I not known better, I would have thought you a princess.”
    “Truly?”
    “Aye,” agreed Kevin, “and a very bonnie one at that. Perhaps we should have all our women with golden hair borrow your trick.”
    Connor seriously considered it. “‘Tis not a bad idea, Kevin. Did you see the way the MacDonald guards looked at her? Word of her beauty will spread quickly and they may try to take her. More lasses with red hair would addle them.”
    “Aye and they will spread the word that Charlet is still here, which is precisely our plan.”
    Kenna leaned closer to Anna. “Am I truly bonnie?”
    “Of course, all MacGreagor lasses are very, very handsome.”
    Kevin took hold of her shoulders, turned Kenna toward him and kissed her forehead. “We have burdened you greatly for one your age. I am pleased...”
    She didn’t mean to interrupt him, but she truly wanted to know. “Where is Charlet?”
    “She is safe but there is a lad who wants to hurt her and we have hidden her.” Kevin let go and took a step back. “That is our next problem. How do we explain her absence to the clan?” He hadn’t meant to direct his question at Kenna and was surprised when she answered.
    “Simple, put me on a horse and let some of them watch Charlet leave. If they do not see me up close, I can fool them.”
    Kevin usually didn’ t speak his thoughts, but this time he did. “We let the MacDonald think Charlet is still here, yet we let the clan think she is gone. But we want the lad who wishes her harm to think she is still here so he will not look for her elsewhere.”
    “Confounding them could wor k in our favor,” said Connor. “‘ Tis is a question of whom the lad will believe -- the MacDonald laird or the MacGreagor clan. We can bring Kenna back in after dark and we will still have her here to fool the next laird who wants Charlet.”
    Kenna’s eyes widened. “Do you mean there are more?”

    Blair insisted, so once more Bridget was sitting in front of him on his horse. She refused to lean against him, however, but the rocking motion of the horse made it almost impossible not to. She kept her hands folded in her lap and tried to enjoy the countryside, but every once in a while, she put her hand on her head.
    “Does your head hurt?”
    She rolled her eyes. “Of course it hurts, my horse threw me.”
    “Do you wish to stop?”
    “I wish to ride my own horse.”
    “Not until your head stops hurting.”
    “In that case, I believe it is a miracle. It does not hurt in the least.”
    It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Does your knee hurt?”
    She was so furious she slapped his arm. “You looked!”
    Blair halted the horses, grabbed both her hands and looked mean when he spoke. “You will never strike me again.”
    She looked just as mean. “You will never tell me what to do again.”
    He had no idea how to handle this situation. His glare should have scared the wits out of her, but she wasn’t at all intimidated. He decided a softer approach might be best and lowered his voice. “‘Tis improper to strike someone except in war and you know it. Say you are sorry.”
    She wasn’t at all sorry, but she too decided to try another approach. She wiggled her hands free, wrapped her arms around him and put her head on his chest. “I am truly sorry. Do you forgive me?”
    What he suddenly wanted to do was wrap his arms around her as well, but he couldn’t let her win so