Page 140 of Taming the Highland Misfits

It seemed incredible, but he was still alive, and she wondered frantically if there was some way she could save him, but she had to be realistic. Even if she had been a trained healer like her mother, there would have been nothing she could do. The breaths were so shallow as to be almost imperceptible; John’s will to survive seemed indomitable, but she reasoned that he must be in agony.

“Goodbye, John,” she whispered, before kissing his forehead. “We will miss you.”

Oh, god,she thought suddenly.Ramsay! He will be devastated!

* * *

A short time earlier…

“Are you ready?” Ramsay asked impatiently, frowning at John as he preened himself in front of the mirror. “It is dark and there will be trees on the edge of the path that will snag your clothes. Why are you bothering to dress up?”

“Because I have to make some sort of an effort!” John grumbled. “I cannot appear to meet a lady dressed as though I had just been dragged through a hedge backward.”

Ramsay cast his eyes heavenwards and gave a dramatic sigh. He had urged John to wear some protection over his shirt, but he had refused, and short of physically forcing his brother, he could do nothing.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked John doubtfully.

“Aye,” John replied, his voice firm and determined. “She is waiting for me, Ramsay. Would you have me let a lady down?”

Ramsay sighed and ran his hand backward over his thick dark hair. “I do not know what I would do without you, Brother,” he said sadly. “I don’t know why, but I am afraid for you.”

John hugged him tightly for a moment, then let go. “You are a silly old woman sometimes, Ramsay.” He laughed. “I will be fine. She is just a woman, for heaven’s sake. What is she going to do to me?”

“She might not be alone,” Ramsay pointed out. Then, seeing that he was getting nowhere, he opened the door for John and they made their way to the stables.

As they drew abreast of John’s horse, Ramsay tried one last time. “Please do not go,” he pleaded.

“Well, you will be watching me from a distance in case anything happens,” John replied, his dark eyes fixed on Ramsay’s grey ones, “but Iamgoing, Ramsay, and you cannot stop me.”

His brother nodded resignedly and helped John onto his mount, then climbed onto his own horse. His heart was racing, and he told himself not to be such a coward, but the feeling of dread would not leave him.

6

Ramsay had been ambling along behind Ailsa and John, but his slow pace belied his intent since he was constantly looking around for danger. He was suspicious of the slightest sound; the hoot of an owl, the crackling of branches, the scurrying of some small creature in the shrubbery. It was hard to see much, but he was determined.

He could hear, very faintly, the sound of Ailsa’s and John’s voices as they chatted, then they reached the bank of the burn, but just as he expected them to dismount, they began to talk excitedly. Curious, he moved closer and he could hear the sound of rustling paper, then a shout from John, and in an instant, both horses and their riders were thundering towards him. He pulled off the path to avoid them, and that was when he heard the sound of the bowstring twanging and the hiss of an arrow as it flew through the air to its target.

He saw the moonlight glinting on it just before it found its mark, and was horrified to see John toppling from Trojan’s back. He made not a single sound. Ramsay did not see the arrow hitting him because of the foliage that was blocking his view, but anyone attacking his brother was fair game for his sword, dagger, or bow. Even if all the damage they had done was a minor flesh wound, Ramsay would make sure they paid for it. He was seething with rage and willing to do murder on John’s behalf.

He wheeled his stallion around and plunged into the wood, frustrated by the fact that he had to slow down to avoid overhanging branches. He thought he had lost his quarry for a moment, then he heard a loud crash and a curse as the horse broke through a shrub that was blocking its path.

However, now that it had cleared a path for him he was able to catch up a little, and he was within earshot of his quarry.

“Stop! Stop, you bastard,” he roared. He knew that he was wasting his breath, but rage drove him on and he carried on yelling till he was almost too hoarse to go on. The rider in front emerged from the wood and sped away, but as Ramsay came out from under the thick canopy of trees he was able to speed up too, and presently only fifty yards separated them.

Gradually Ramsay lessened the distance as the horse in front of him tired. “Give up, you swine!” His voice was as rough as sandpaper as he finally caught up with the other man, but he was wearing a mask over the lower half of his face so that Ramsay could see none of his features except for his malevolent eyes.

Ramsay swiped his sword at the bandit, but he managed to swing backwards in the saddle and dodge the blow. However, in doing so, he toppled backwards and landed on the grass with a thud.

Ramsay dismounted in a flash, and ran around the back of the other horse to reach his enemy. The man was surprisingly quick and had scrambled to his feet and turned to run by the time Ramsay reached him.

He managed to grab a handful of the man’s hair and tugged it hard, forcing his enemy’s head back and making him yell in pain.

“Go on, scream!” Ramsay shouted with what was left of his voice as he bent the man’s head back further and further till it was almost between his shoulder blades. Nevertheless, the attacker still had plenty of fight left in him, and he drove one of his elbows backwards into Ramsay’s stomach, winding him so badly that he fell over.

However, Ramsay had been holding the man around the waist with one hand so that he was unable to run without pushing him away. That was when he was able to swipe the attacker across the thigh with his sword, opening a deep gash and making him scream with pain.

Yet the bandit had more determination than anyone Ramsay had ever met in his life, and a moment later he heard the sound of hoofbeats as he rode away. Later he would wonder why the other man had not just ridden over him and killed him, but that did not concern him now. Now he had to get back to his brother.