Read Online Highlander Medieval 06 - Her Highland Hero by Terry Spear - Free Book Online

Highlanders savages. What concerned her most was that her father was the one who had given the order to have Marcus sent away. He could not have had anything to do with the men attacking Marcus. She wouldn’t believe it of him.
    “You do not know who hired them?” Overwhelmed with the truth of the matter, she had assumed the man only a thief, who would attack anyone he believed would make it worth his while.
    “Nay. There were too many attacking to hold polite conversation.”
    “I…I am so sorry, Marcus.” She bit her lip and took his hand and squeezed it.
    “Dear lass, you had naught to do with it.”
    “If I had not held you so close, flaunting the way I feel about you in front of the others, showing them that I love you—” Her eyes filled with tears and she hated that she could not hold them back, but it was all her fault that he had been sent away and then attacked.
    “Ahh, Isobel, come here.” He reached out his arms to hold her, though he grimaced as if the movement caused him much pain.
    She willingly went to him, wanting to hold him close, and pressed herself gently against his chest, trying to be so careful not to hurt him further. She needed his touch as much as she suspected he needed hers.
    “You had naught to do with this,” he repeated. “‘Twas my fault for holding you close at the dance and stirring your da’s ire.”
    “He was angry with me over it. Not with you,” she said vehemently.
    He stroked her back and sighed deeply. “Though I shouldna wish you were here, you canna know how much it means to me to hold you like this. But you shouldna have come.”
    “‘Tis the same for me. I wished to see you, to feel you, to know you were…were going to live.”
    He kissed the top of her head. “Three brigands couldna get the best of me.”
    She frowned at him because one had.
    “And live,” he amended with a small smile.
    “Can I see your wound?” She couldn’t help worrying about him, though he furrowed his brow at her and she could see he didn’t like being fussed over.
    “I havena seen it, but I imagine it doesna look pretty,” he warned.
    “I just want to see if it is healing well.”
    He let his breath out. “You shouldna be here.”
    She thought he said so because he was afraid of how she’d view his fresh wound and be sickened by it.
    “I must leave soon,” she admitted, “as much as I would love to stay with you until you are fully recovered.” Then she smiled a little. “Mayhap if I did stay with you, my father would change his mind about us.”
    Marcus snorted. “He would know I couldna have you, no’ as wounded as I am.”
    Disappointed that they could not make her staying with him work in their favor, she made him lean forward a bit and ran her finger over his uninjured skin—the wound not bright red as if it were infected, but a lighter pink. “The healer did well with her stitches. It appears to be healing.”
    “Good.”
    “Are you really angry that I have come to see you?” She sat back down on the chair. If she had it to do all over again, she would do naught differently.
    “Aye, lass. ‘Tis no’ safe for you with the fighting going on. If anyone was to learn who you were, he could ransom you for concessions from your da. Besides, thieving brigands are out there who could harm you.” He glanced down at her trewes and shook his head. “You shouldna be dressed like that.”
    She pulled her brat over her legs.
    “I had your men escort me here and there were others who joined us and will help me to return home.”
    “And they are just as much at risk. Beyond that, I dinna want them seeing you dressed thus, either.”
    “The brat covered my clothes.” Though not all the way as she rode there. She sighed and took his hand and lifted it to her lips and kissed him. “I would not have stayed away.”
    His beautiful eyes gazed at her, and she knew he was only worried about her, trying to pretend he did not wish to see her. “Isobel.” He looked