Page 22 of Jack (Highland Outlaws #1)

W hen Bella was a little girl, she had gone to market with her mother.

Amid the bustle, they’d been separated. Bella had tried to push through the crowd to reach the place where she had last clasped her mother’s hand, but the tide of people kept knocking her back.

Heart pounding, limbs heavy, she had felt as if she would drown beneath the weight of her terror.

In that moment, tears had flooded her eyes.

She had to fight the urge to surrender her quest, to give up and plop to the ground and sob.

Clasping threads of courage, she ceased struggling to get back to where she had been.

Instead, she moved with the crowd like a stick tossed in a river that bobbed along with the current.

Soon, her fear ebbed, inviting in her intention.

New pathways revealed themselves, and then suddenly, she could see her mother ahead of her, her smile beaming like a beacon.

Bella had reached for her mother, who seized her hand and pulled her from the swiftly moving river of people.

She crushed Bella close and planted kisses all over her face.

Then her mother pulled away slightly and looked down at Bella.

“You smart girl,” her mother said proudly.

“You made your own path, which led to me.”

OF ALL THE MEMORIES to flood her thoughts while Bella and Jack walked arm and arm back to the great hall, Bella did not know why she was suddenly reminded of that day at the market with her mother.

But she welcomed any distraction from the task ahead—after all, she was moments away from ending her betrothal, declaring her love for a man currently disguised as a monk, and leaving her father to naught but his grief.

But then she realized that her mother was speaking to her...

You can’t go back to what was.

You must forge your own path.

Follow your heart.

In that moment, Bella did not doubt that her mother, bold and brave, would have approved of her choice.

“Are ye certain this is what ye want to do?” Jack asked when they reached the door to the great hall.

“I’ve never been more certain,” Bella said, her voice strong.

Jack reached for the door.

“Wait,” she said and gathered her hair and knotted it at the nape of her neck. Then she squared her shoulders and drew a deep breath. “I am ready now.”

Jack swung the door wide. She stepped through. The high dais was empty. She knew her father must have retired to the solar for the night. A pang of regret stabbed her heart as she pictured him there, alone with his misery, but shaking her head, she forced her mind to stay focused.

First, she had to deal with Hugh, who was sitting with Quinn and the other monks at one of the long tables.

A sad smile tugged at her lips as she watched him throw his head back, his easy laughter ringing out at something the abbot had said.

She would always love Hugh. He was her dearest friend, a brother to her soul, but she was never meant to be his wife.

Her stomach twisted as she set off across the room. He looked up when she approached the table. Concern instantly furrowed his brow. “Bella, what has happened to you?” he said as he stood. His fingertips reached out, tucking a wayward lock of her hair behind her ear.

She ignored his question, not wishing to explain why her wimple was in tatters on the stable floor. “May we speak?” she said, her voice low. “In private.”

The concern she had glimpsed in his eyes changed to wariness. His shoulders stiffened. Nodding, he gestured for her to go in front of him. Leading the way, she gathered her thoughts, rehearsing how best to tell Hugh that she was in love with another man.

JACK WATCHED AS BELLA turned stiffly on her heel and walked toward the high table. Hugh narrowed his gaze suspiciously on Jack before following her. After they both disappeared behind the screen at the rear of the high dais, Abbot Matthew cleared his throat, drawing Jack’s gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack said as he turned away from the abbot’s stern eyes.

“Ready yer sword,” the older man said dryly. “Ye’re a fool if ye think he’ll give her up without a fight.”

Jack tensed. What if Hugh locked her away in some room or called the Redesdale guard to remove him from the hall? Bella had assured him that neither her father nor Hugh would force her to stay.

“Remember who my mother was,” she had told him. “My father married for love, and his family supported the match.”

At the time, Jack had bitten his tongue, thinking better of pointing out that although her mother had been a commoner, she had also been the daughter of a wealthy merchant, whereas Jack was a penniless thief.

Jack began to pace back and forth, keeping his gaze trained on the screen. “I should have stolen her when I had the chance.”

“I hardly know what you and Lady Redesdale have planned,” the abbot began, “and I’m quite certain ‘tis better for us all, the less I know. Still, I can confidently say that not abducting a lady from her fortress is always the better choice.”

Jack stopped and raised his brow at the abbot.

“I must agree with Abbot Matthew on this point,” Quinn chimed in.

Jack raked a hand through his shorn hair and renewed his pacing.

His mind raced with possibilities. What if Hugh turned his anger against Bella?

Jack couldn’t stand idly by and let that happen.

He clenched his fists, feeling a surge of protectiveness toward her.

A sudden thought occurred to him. What if Hugh challenged him to a duel?

Bella cared for Hugh, even if she didn’t want to marry him. Jack couldn’t hurt him.

After some time, a door slammed. Jack froze, listening. Soon, heavy footfalls could be heard. Knowing it must be Hugh who approached, Jack glanced at Quinn and said, “Do not interfere.”

Then he planted his feet wide, keeping his arms lax at his sides.

Jack was the larger man by far. Still, he had resolved not to fight back against Hugh unless he threatened his very life.

Moments later, Hugh barreled around the screen and headed toward him with fists clenched, his veins straining against his neck.

Jack stiffened, readying his body to absorb the fullness of Hugh’s fury.

Only steps away now, Hugh pulled his fist back.

His nostrils flared. Jack closed his eyes the instant before Hugh’s knuckles plowed into his jaw.

Pain shot through Jack’s skull. He fell back, landing hard on the rush covered stone floor. Heavy footfalls retreated through the hall, the noise pounding Jack’s head.

“Ye deserved that. Didn’t ye?”

Jack lifted his eyelids just enough to see Quinn standing above him.

“Aye, that I did,” he said, reaching out his hand. “Where did he go?”

Quinn pulled Jack to his feet. “Back the way he came. I presume to try to convince Bella to forget yer common thieving, Scottish hide.”

Jack shook his head, then winced, regretting the action.

“Now what do we do?” Quinn asked.

“I do not ken,” Jack said, wincing again. “‘Tis not every day I steal a lady from her betrothed.” He found a seat on one of the benches. “I suppose we wait for Bella.”

Quinn sat beside him. They both waited in silence. The hall was quiet except for the muttering of prayers from the abbot, who flashed the occasional crossed look in Jack’s direction.

After what felt like an age to Jack’s throbbing head, Bella emerged from behind the screen, her face tear-streaked and her eyes red. She rushed towards Jack, throwing herself into his arms.

“Are you alright?” she whispered, pulling away to look at him.

“Aye, lass, ‘tis but a scratch,” Jack said, his hand gingerly touching the bruised skin on his jaw.

“I’m so sorry, Jack. I didn’t know he would do that,” Bella said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“’Tis not yer fault,” Jack said, wiping away her tears with his thumb. “What did yer father say?”

“Very little,” she replied, and Jack could see the pain that his silence had caused her.

“But I did not expect otherwise. Hugh had a rather lot to say over the matter. He’s not willing to break our betrothal.

” She took a resolute breath. “But he will not try to stop me from leaving. He says that he’ll wait for me for however long it takes. ”

Movement near the screen drew Jack’s attention before he could reply as Hugh and her father emerged together.

Clearing his throat, Jack tucked Bella behind him as he readied his thoughts to argue his case to both Hugh and her father. But just then, the doors to the hall burst open. Jack spun around, his hand grasping for the hilt of his sword. He gripped naught but the roughly woven rope around his waist.

“Blast,” he cursed under his breath, remembering that his only weapon was the dagger strapped to his leg.

He narrowed his gaze on the intruder, who stormed into the room with two guards at his side. Straightaway, the Redesdale guard who had been standing on the outskirts of the hall moved closer, readying their weapons to attack.

Jack could not remember ever encountering the newcomer. He was a stout man who emanated authority, even though he appeared to have fewer than forty years to his credit. His velvet mantle swished about his hips as he scanned the hall, his lip curled with open disgust.

“Lord Percy, I did not grant you entry!”

Surprised, Jack glanced back at Isabella’s father, whose voice had echoed off the ceiling.

Lord Redesdale rushed forward and stepped in front of Bella as if shielding her.

His eyes flashed with anger. Jack could not believe Lord Redesdale’s sudden transformation from frail shadow to mighty defender.

Jack swung back around and eyed the intruder.

Even he had heard of Lord Percy, who was counted among King Edward’s favored advisers.

Lord Percy strode forward, his pale blue eyes locked onto Bella. “Lady Isabella, my dear,” he said, his voice oozing with false sincerity. “I am overjoyed to see that you are alive and well.”