Read Online Captured by a Laird by Loretta Laird - Free Book Online Page B

grasping hands of their masters. When they alighted on Lena, their eyes grew soft with sympathy, yet flashed with relief at their own reprieve from torment at the hands of Gavin Haigh. His attention was fixed upon Lena. The other men were content to tease, for now. None would dare to claim a woman’s comfort for the night until Haigh had had his pick. Lena saw lust in the eyes of the men, and eager hands fumbling under the laden table. Some of the women courted the attention, pulling their necklines lower and bending over to lay out the food and drink. Lena reddened at the flesh she was privy to, choosing to avert her eyes instead.
    Haigh purred at her naivety, licking his lips as he muttered, “I will enjoy educating you in the ways of men, lassie.”
    Lena was dressed in a low-cut, lace trimmed gown that she had been forced to wear by a surly maid who took great delight in regaling her with tales of Haigh’s brutality. Lena had, so far, escaped his sadistic advances since he seemed more than content to parade her around his Great Hall like a trophy he had won.
    “Rwenor’s prize,” he crowed to any that would hear him. “Mine for the taking,” he added with a leer at Lena.
    Lena cast her eyes around the room, taking in the exits and the number of men who stood between her and freedom. The mead flowed freely, and Lena witnessed the slowly dulling reflexes of her captors. Her plate remained full as her stomach heaved at the overwhelming onslaught on her senses. The musky scent of unwashed male, coupled with the overpowering odour of the brimming plates of roasted game, disgusted her. Alert to every move of the man to her right, Lena felt a channel of air between them as Haigh bent to reach down to pet the enormous hound that had forced its snout into the lap of its master. As quick as a flash of lightning, Lena bent down under the table, concealing a knife into her billowing sleeve.
    Not such an awful dress, she concluded mischievously.
    “Dropped my knife,” Lena explained.
    Busying herself with bending to the ground, pretending to collect the missing knife, Lena felt a clammy hand haul her back into a sitting position.
    “Leave it! That’s what I keep servants for.” His lip curled as he spoke.
    Lena picked at the food before her, allowing her gaze to roam the room.
    “Tell us more about the Green Bow,” a young man across the table urged her. His eyes sparkled with anticipation.
    “He is nothing more than a showman,” Haigh answered abruptly. “None have seen him kill a man.”
    “I heard he strung up forty of Fogert’s men,” called out a voice from further down the table.
    “And he burned the home of Harris’ whore,” another added.
    Lena suppressed an inward smile as she deliberately turned her back on Haigh and began a dramatic recount of Green Bow and his exploits. She weaved a picture of a dashing hero who stopped at nothing to keep his clan and lands safe. She added details of his handsome face and chivalrous heart. As her tale wound down, Lena could see the glassy-eyed fascination of her audience.
    “Huh! A tall tale indeed,” scoffed Haigh, once more breathing heavily into her ear. “Nothing more than a murdering barbarian, just like the rest of us. Cheers!”
    Amid catcalls and drunken whoops of agreement, Haigh whispered low into Lena’s ear. “Though I was rather taken with the rise and fall of your pert young breasts as you spoke with such passion. I look forward to holding them in my hands and I canna wait much longer.”
    “Never!” Lena turned fiercely towards the man beside her. “You will never see me in that way. I will kill you before you touch me.”
    “Feisty. I like some spirit but not too much. I warn you not to push me, lassie. Those that have tried have been the worse for it.” As he spoke, Haigh ran his hand along Lena’s taught thigh, a hint of menace sparkling in his eye as his hand tightened onto her soft flesh. “I will take my leave now,” Haigh announced