Page 64 of Taken By the Highland Villain
He growled in fury at being thwarted and grabbed Valerie before she could step out of range.
“Nay! If she cannae be mine…” A knife appeared in his hand, and he pressed it to Valerie’s neck, shocking her into wide-eyed silence. “… then she will be nay one’s!”
Chaos erupted on the dais as Valerie’s sisters darted forward, the redhead drawing a long dirk from somewhere on her person. At the same time, Laird MacAllister attacked Laird MacKane and the man beside him, lashing out viciously in an effort to take them both by surprise and land a fatal blow.
Nathan jerked away from the conflict and the angry women, and his knife slipped, drawing a thin line of blood on Valerie’s neck.
Jude gave a snarl of rage, unsheathed his sword, and lunged up the stairs to rescue her, as fast as his wounded leg would allow.
One moment, she was reaching for Jude, her heart full of relief and joy; the next, Laird MacOlley had pinned her against him and pressed a dagger to her throat.
And then… chaos.
Megan drew a dirk of her own. There was a sound of clashing steel behind her, as if Laird MacAllister had attacked someone else. Her sisters jumped forward to her rescue.
Something hot and stinging bloomed on her neck—the dagger had sliced her. And Jude gave a snarl, unsheathed his sword, and charged toward her.
For one brief moment, she was frozen. Then, all her experience fighting at her father’s side came flooding back to her, and she did the first thing that came to mind. She grabbed Laird MacOlley’s hand to keep it still, then bit the heel of his thumb and drove the heel of her foot into his ankle as hard as she could.
He howled and let go of the dagger. His grip on her loosened as well. Valerie took the opportunity to drive her elbow into his gut as fiercely as her limited movement would allow.
Laird MacOlley gasped and doubled over. He hadn’t worn any padding or armor—too sure of his triumph to care for his safety, especially when he expected everyone to be waiting for a wedding and a truce, rather than a fight.
Valerie tore herself free of his grip, just as Jude made it to her side and pulled her close, then stepped in front of her. “Go to yer sisters. Keep each other safe.”
His voice was grim, and she hurried to do as he said. Megan was the only one of her sisters who was armed, and with the men engaged in combat, or about to be, they were better off out of the way.
She reached Lily’s side just as Laird MacOlley drew his sword and lunged after her, his urbane mask replaced by fury.
Jude stepped between them, steel clashing against steel. Beyond the two of them, Conall was indeed fighting Laird MacAllister, while Oliver had moved to protect the priest.
The two Lairds seemed to be evenly matched, and for the life of her, Valerie could not tell who was winning. Then, her attention was drawn back to where Jude and Laird MacOlley were locked together in combat.
Laird MacOlley lunged in a wild flurry of strikes, pushing Jude back a few staggering steps. Then, Jude rallied and blocked, blocked again, absorbed an attack, and then countered with a quick blow of his own. His next strike just missed gutting Laird MacOlley.
Laird MacOlley jumped away with a snarl, then tried to force Jude back down the stairs, where the uneven height and his injury would put him at a disadvantage. Instead, Jude dodgedto his good side and managed to force Laird MacOlley down the stairs.
The next few exchanges were too chaotic for Valerie to follow. She saw a red line appear on Jude’s arm, and her heart jumped into her throat.
Then, there was a shout, and Conall slipped past his opponent’s guard and buried his sword to the hilt in Laird MacAllister’s chest.
The shout and the thump of a body hitting the floor distracted Laird MacOlley for an instant. Jude took full advantage of the distraction. He slammed Laird MacOlley’s blade aside, and his sword found its home in the man’s heart.
Laird MacOlley staggered backward, his eyes going wide in shock, then his sword fell, and he collapsed to the ground, an expression of thwarted malice stamped on his formerly handsome features as he tumbled down the last stair, dead before his body stopped rolling across the stones.
Valerie wrenched herself out of her sister’s arms and raced forward. “Jude…”
Jude said nothing, his sword clattering to the ground as he swept her into his arms and claimed her lips in a searing kiss.
There was blood on his arm and probably staining her dress, but she couldn’t have cared less. Nor did she care that he tasted of sweat, leather, blood, and steel.
“Ye have more to say, Laird MacFinn?” her brother-in-law’s wry voice asked, shattering the moment.
Jude took a deep breath and stepped back to face both Valerie and her kinfolk. “Aye. I do. The truth is, Valerie, I want…”
He shook his head and began again.
“Valerie Blackwood, I was livin’ a life in gloom and darkness until ye wandered into my castle and brought the sunlight back into my days. Ye bring light and purpose to my existence, and ye make me feel whole, despite my lame leg. Havin’ ye with me is like seein’ sunshine after a long, cold winter of storms and darkness. And for all I ken I shouldnae, I would rather have ye by my side, come what may, than try to take another breath without ye.”