The Laird's Forbidden Lady

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Authors: Ann Lethbridge
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beside him. ‘Pass the word.’
    ‘I’ll be back down before she lands.’ Ian walked past the line of horses and men. Men he had trusted with his life more than once. Good men, who trusted him and who’d lose their homes if they didn’t bring this off safely. One or two of them muttered greetings as he passed.
    At the end of the line, he passed a slight figure holding the bridle of an ass. Ian frowned. That made nine men. He’d thought there were eight. Was this the source of the troubled feeling he’d had out on the point? The man had a cap pulled down over his eyes and was trying to hide on the other side of his wee beast. Another thing that wasn’t right. They used ponies because they were more docile.
    Ian reached over the animal and grabbed the man by the collar. A familiar face grinned up at him.
    ‘What the hell? Damn it, Logan, you are supposed to be caring for our mother.’
    His brother shrugged him off. ‘It is a woman’s job,’ he said sullenly.
    Ian closed his eyes in silent prayer for patience. ‘You know what Mother will do if anything happens to you. Make sure you stay out of trouble.’
    ‘She knows where I am. I’m no child to be left at home. You were out here at eighteen and I’m near twenty.’
    ‘That was different.’ In those days there hadn’t been anyone else to go. The clan had relied on him and Andrew to help them get through the winter. But for all his slight stature, Logan was right, he was old enough. And another pair of hands wouldn’t hurt.
    ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘But if the gaugers come, you are to run. I’m relying on you not to get caught. You’ll need to warn the village.’
    Logan grinned, his teeth a quick white flash in the dark. ‘Aye. I’ll run like the wind. You can count on me.’
    Ian knew he could. And if he tried to protect him, Logan would rebel and go his own way as Andrew had. ‘See you keep that damned beastie quiet.’
    A dog whined. It jumped up at Logan, who pushed him down.
    ‘What in the devil’s name is Gilly doing here?’ Ian asked.
    ‘I dinna ken. I locked him in with Beau. He must have escaped.’
    ‘Carelessness,’ Ian said. ‘Keep the damn animal quiet.’
    Logan glowered and made a grab for the dog. It darted out of reach.
    The man next in line chuckled.
    Ian smothered a cursed and left his brother to it.
    The prickles on his neck had not subsided. If anything, they were worse. He climbed the steep path up the wall of the gully instead of following the track beside the burn tumbling down to the sea.
    As he raised his head over the brow, a whiff of pipe smoke tickled his nostrils. ‘Damn it, man. Put that out. It can be seen for miles.’
    Davey had brawn, but no brain. He knocked the bowl on his heel and stamped on the embers. “Tis all right for them down in the gully. The wind’s damn cold up here, Laird.’
    ‘It’ll be hot in hell if you get yourself shot.’ Ian swept his gaze around the surrounding countryside. ‘Hear anything?’
    Davey gave a smug laugh. ‘Aye, I heard something, all right. At first I thought it was a rabbit. I walked back along the path a ways.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘I caught a lass creeping up on us. Ranald has her.’
    What had been a faint unease across his skin was now a full-fledged alert in his gut. ‘A woman?’
    ‘A Sassenach by her voice.’
    This really wasn’t good. ‘Stay here and keep a sharp look-out.’
    ‘Aye, Laird.’
    Ian strode along the stream bank, until he came to the place where it disappeared underground. ‘Ranald?’
    The burly innkeeper rose up out of the heather. ‘Here.’
    ‘Davey said you caught a wench spying.’
    ‘Aye, Laird, I have her tied up over there beside the horse.’
    Definitely not good. And yet something lightened inside him. It was the oddest sensation. Shoving it aside, he strode to the cluster of rocks indicated by Ranald. He held up his lamp and looked into a pair of very angry brown eyes.
    ‘Lady Selina. I might have known.’ He knelt beside

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