Page 22 of Hunted By the Cruel Highlander (Lasses of the Highland Hunt #1)

“Havenae seen anyone like that,” the merchant replied, but her uncertain tone betrayed her.

Angus pushed aside a hanging bolt of fabric, his yellowed teeth bared in a triumphant grin as he spotted Gabriella. “There ye are, ye little—”

He lunged forward, his hand outstretched to grab her.

Without thinking, Gabriella snatched a heavy pottery jug from a nearby stand and swung it with all her strength. It connected with Angus’s temple with a sickening crack, shattering on impact.

He staggered backward, his eyes unfocused, but didn’t fall. Before he could recover, Gabriella darted past him, knocking over a stack of woven baskets to block his path.

“Hector!” she screamed, dropping all pretense of calm.

She didn’t need to call twice. Hector was already moving toward her, shoving people aside, his face a mask of fury.

Behind Angus, another man materialized. She didn’t recognize him, but he bore the same hardened look as Lewis’s other men, his meaty hands reaching for her.

But Hector reached her first. With one powerful movement, he pulled her behind him, simultaneously driving his fist into the unknown man’s face. The brute went down hard, blood spurting from his nose.

Angus, still dazed from the blow to his head, turned to flee, but Hector caught him by the collar, slamming him against a wooden post.

“One move and I snap yer neck,” he growled, pressing his forearm against the man’s throat.

The market had gone silent, a circle forming around the confrontation. Gabriella stood trembling but straight-backed, the broken handle of the pottery jug still clutched in her hand.

“Lewis must have recruited new men,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt,

Village guards pushed through the crowd, drawn by the commotion. The two men—Angus and his unknown companion—were hauled to their feet, blood trickling from their wounds.

“Laird McCulloch, are these men troublin’ ye?” asked the lead guard, a burly man with a graying beard.

“These men attacked me guest,” Hector stated, his voice carrying authority that brooked no argument. “They’re to be held for questionin’.”

Noah emerged from the crowd, his expression darkening when he saw Angus. “I lost him in the alleyways,” he admitted to Hector, frustration evident in his tone. “But I see ye’ve caught one of them already.” His eyes narrowed on Angus. “And brought a friend, I see.”

“Take them to the dungeons,” Hector instructed the guards. “I’ll question them personally. Nay one else speaks with them, understood?”

The lead guard nodded respectfully. “Aye, Me Laird.”

“And order four men to watch them,” Noah added. “These arenae ordinary thieves.”

As the guards dragged the men away, Noah fell into step beside Hector and Gabriella. “I’ll see that these arrangements are properly made,” he told Hector. “Then I’ll join ye.”

Hector handed the merchant whose jugs were damaged a few coins, then led Gabriella away from the market, toward a small stone alcove near the church. The quiet corner offered both privacy and safety, with a clear view of nearby paths.

“Are ye hurt?” he asked, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

Gabriella shook her head, though her hand trembled around the broken handle of the jug. Hector gently pried it from her fingers.

“Ye defended yerself well,” he said, something like pride warming his voice. “Most lasses wouldnae have had the presence of mind to fight back.”

“I learned to survive,” she replied simply, her breathing still uneven from the encounter.

“Tell me more about Lewis,” Hector said, his expression grave. “Everythin’ ye ken about his operation. Where might he be hidin’?”

Gabriella wrapped her arms around herself, fighting the chill that had nothing to do with the Highland air. “He owns a tavern—The Spotted Hare—near Inverness. But he wouldnae go back there. He has a cabin in the woods, about a day’s ride north of here. That’s where he kept us before the hunts.”

“How many men does he usually have with him?”

“Two or three, usually. But he has connections with other tavern owners. Men who help him find girls…” She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. “Men who want to buy what he’s sellin’.”

Hector’s jaw clenched, rage flashing in his eyes before he schooled his features into calm. “Dinnae worry, lass. Ye’re safe here,” he assured her, though his hand had moved unconsciously to the hilt of his dirk.

Noah rejoined them, his expression grim. “I’ve ordered four men to guard the prisoners,” he reported. “But there’s a problem. One of them refused to be silenced. He was shoutin’ about findin’ the escaped lass before the guards gagged him.”

“The entire village will be talkin’ by sundown,” Hector muttered.

“It’s worse than that,” Noah sighed. “I tailed Red Beard long enough to see him meet another man with a horse. He’s likely halfway to Lewis by now.”

Gabriella felt the blood drain from her face. “He’ll come for me,” she whispered. “He boasted about the money he made from sellin’ us to be hunted. He willnae just let me go.”

“He willnae get near ye,” Hector vowed, his voice hard with determination.

“But he kens where I am now,” Gabriella croaked, fear clawing at her throat. “And I-I cannae go back to that. I’d rather die.”

The words escaped before she could stop them, but she meant them with every fiber of her being.

Hector turned to Noah, his expression darkening. “She cannae be left alone, even within the castle walls. Nae until Lewis and all his men are rounded up.”

Noah nodded in agreement.

“We need to be vigilant,” Hector barked. “Some of the lairds who participated in these hunts may still help Lewis. They paid good money for their prizes.” His voice hardened with disgust at the last word.

“I’ll double the guards at the castle,” Noah responded, his expression sober. “And assign men to guard her.”

Gabriella listened to them discuss her safety as if she weren’t present, a mixture of gratitude and frustration swirling within her.

Was Hector suggesting that she prolong her stay at the castle?

Surely, she would be safe once she was on a ship to France.

But would she? Lewis had already proven resourceful enough to find her here, in a Highland village, under a laird’s protection.

What would stop him from pursuing her across countries if he was determined enough?

Hector’s expression shifted as he came to a decision. He glanced at Noah, subtly nodding toward the street.

“Check that our horses are ready,” he ordered, his dismissal clear. “We’ll join ye shortly.”

Noah hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Aye, Me Laird.”

He moved away, positioning himself at a distance that offered both privacy and protection.

Hector turned back to Gabriella and stepped closer. The stone alcove suddenly felt intimate, his presence filling the small space with warmth and strength.

“I have an idea, lass,” he said, his deep voice rumbling with quiet determination, “but ye may nae like it…”

Gabriella straightened her spine, forcing steel into her voice despite her fear. “What is it?”

His eyes never left hers as the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, the answer hanging between them like a whispered promise. Or a sentence.