The Highlander's Christmas Bride, Page 4

  “Oh, dear. That sounds rather well planned, doesn’t it?”

  “Which is why I want you down on the floor.”

  She grimaced but gave him a nod and slid down to the floor, gripping the hatpin.

  While he admired her courage, her feeble weapon could do more harm than good. A good jab in the right place might give an attacker pause, but would just as likely infuriate him.

  Donella obviously read his mind. “I’m a Scotswoman, sir. I will defend myself, no matter what.”

  He quirked a brief smile. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Just sit tight until I come back and get you.”

  “They’re almost here, sir,” Foster barked.

  After glancing behind to make sure Davey was covering their rear, Logan strode to the head of the carriage and leveled his pistol. When one of the horsemen raised a hand, the riders halted some yards from the carriage.

  For long seconds, Logan and the masked riders exchanged stares. On the other end of the bridge stood Perth. He could see the lights in the windows of houses and shops, and smoke curling up from chimneys. Even though civilization loomed close by in the shape of a tidy, prosperous town, they were isolated. Possibly no one would even hear if shots were fired. The sounds of water rushing below the bridge and the rising wind in the trees conspired against them.

  Logan raised his voice. “I happen to be an excellent shot, so I suggest you let us pass.”

  “There be seven of us and three of ye,” said the one who’d held up his hand. “We mean ye no harm. But ye will follow our orders, or we’ll do what needs must.”

  “If it’s money you want, one of you louts can come get it,” Logan replied. “But if we keep standing about, someone’s bound to come along and raise the alarm, which will put rather a crimp in your plans.”

  “We dinna want yer money. It’s the lass we’ve come for. Hand her over and we’ll be on our way, and no harm done.”

  What in hell . . .

  How did they know who was in the coach? The scenario was becoming increasingly bizarre, since few people knew Donella was returning to Blairgal Castle.

  “Foster,” he said quietly, “did you notice anything suspicious back at the inn while we were waiting for Miss Donella?”

  “Nae, sir. There were only a few locals hangin’ aboot, havin’ a pint or two.”

  “There must be some confusion,” Logan said, again raising his voice. “I’m a businessman from Glasgow, and the woman in the coach is my wife. Be assured that she will not be going anywhere with you.”

  The gang’s leader waved his pistol. “Och, the flower’s nothin’ of the sort. Just hand her over and we’ll be on our way.”

  The flower? Now what the hell was the idiot talking about?

  “Och, that’s nae good,” muttered Foster.

  Logan shot him a quick frown before cocking his pistol.

  “Have it your way,” he said to the masked leader.

  Three pistols were lifted and cocked in return.

  “Hold, ye daft idiots,” barked the leader before turning back to Logan. “We’ll nae be hurtin’ the lass. Word of a Highlander. But we will be takin’ her. It’s up to ye how hard or easy ye want to make it.”

  “They dinna seem that keen on a fight,” Foster said to Logan. “And I’m thinkin’ this is Clan Graham business, what with the flower and all.”

  “I have no idea what any of you are talking about,” Logan replied, “but I agree this is some sort of ridiculous clan situation.” Clan issues, especially ones that involved matters of honor, could be a royal pain in the arse.

  “Why do you want her?” Logan called out.

  “None of yer business.”

  “You’ve made it my business. And that means it is now Kendrick business, since I’m the brother of the Laird of Arnprior. Run afoul of me, and you run afoul of Arnprior and Clan Kendrick.”

  That set off a round of uneasy muttering. The group’s leader silenced his compatriots with a few sharp words.

  “We have nae quarrel with the Kendricks. And if ye want to keep it that way, ye’ll hand the lass over.”

  “That’s not going—”

  The sound of the carriage door flying open interrupted him. Logan turned to see Donella leaning out, looking immensely irritated.

  “Will you please cease this endless palavering?” she loudly said. “I am freezing in this stupid carriage, and I would prefer to reach our destination by nightfall.”

  “You are not helping,” Logan gritted out.

  “And you are not getting the job done.” She jumped down and marched up to him. “I feel like I’m in the middle of some idiotic parlay instead of a kidnapping.”

  “I’m trying to prevent a blasted kidnapping through a blasted parlay.”

  She cast a haughty look down the road at their erstwhile abductors, who were now muttering excitedly to each other.

  “Since you know who I am,” she called out, “you must also know Lord Riddick will be most displeased by this insult. If you do not move aside, there will be extremely deleterious consequences to your regrettable behavior.”

  “Them’s a lot of breakteeth words from such a slip of a lass,” one of the horsemen said.

  “Aye,” replied the one wearing the red scarf. “Hard to imagine that she and—”

  Their leader smacked Red Scarf in the shoulder. “Shut it, ye boobies.”

  His action startled Red Scarf’s horse, which shied into the one next to it. For a few moments, a great deal of cursing and maneuvering ensued while the men brought their animals under control. It would have been a farce but for the fact that the idiots were armed. Logan hauled Donella behind him to shield her, in case one of them accidentally discharged his pistol.

  “There’s no need to manhandle me,” she huffed.

  “I don’t trust those morons not to shoot someone.”

  “No one is shooting anyone. I will handle this.”

  He glared at her. “Do you have any idea who they are?”

  “No, but they know who I am.” She made a disgusted noise. “The Flower. I always hated that name.”

  “Come along now, Miss Donella,” the leader said in a wheedling tone. “We willna hurt ye, but ye have no choice.”

  “Absolutely not,” she shouted back, leaning to see around Logan. “My uncle will hunt you down for even attempting such a thing.”

  “Yer uncle is a tired old man. And this is Riddick’s fault in the first place. We’re only takin’ what’s been ours all along, from years ago.”

  Donella sucked in a breath.

  The horses surged forward.

  Logan shoved his pistol into his waistband and swept Donella into his arms. He tossed her into the coach and slammed the door, ignoring her protests.

  “Do not come out,” he said.

  She glared at him. “I’m not an—”

  A boom from the top of the carriage cut her off.

  Foster had gotten off a shot, and it looked like he’d winged one of the bastards. Red Scarf was reeling in his saddle, trying to maintain his seat.

  Logan yanked his pistol from his waistband and fired at the leader. The man shrieked as his hat flew from his head and he tumbled from his horse.

  The two unhurt scoundrels yelled out curses, as they tried to bring their startled horses under control.

  When a pistol discharged behind him, Logan wheeled around. Davey had fired but missed the riders to the rear, who were now charging forward. Two of them dismounted and launched themselves at the groom, while the other remained in the saddle to cover his companions. Davey fought like a wildcat, but the bastards knocked him to the ground.

  With a few quick strides, Logan reached them, plucking an attacker from the writhing pile of bodies and heaving him over the side of the bridge. With a snarl, the mounted man leveled his pistol. Logan pulled a blade from his boot and threw just as the man fired his weapon. Shards of stone exploded from the wall behind him. The ball missed Logan only by inches.

  Hi
s assailant screeched and clutched at the knife buried in his shoulder. He jerked halfway out of his saddle, accidentally pulling his horse around in the opposite direction. The animal bolted down the road, with his rider flopping like a fish on a riverbank. One of the other horses, spooked by the commotion, bolted and raced off down the road as well.

  Trusting Davey to handle his remaining assailant, Logan turned back toward the front of the carriage. Foster was lashing his whip at one of the remaining riders, keeping the man well occupied in trying to prevent his mount from rearing out of control.

  The fourth rider, however, was off his horse and at the carriage door. A brute of a man, he’d clamped a hand around Donella’s calf and was dragging her toward him. The lass put up a mighty struggle. Her skirts were rucked up as she tried to kick him off, all while desperately grabbing on to the doorframe.

  A pulse of fury shimmered through Logan, a white-hot bolt that seemed to light up the sky. He charged forward, hell-bent on throttling the bastard for daring to lay hands on her.

  As he clamped a hand on the brute’s shoulder, Donella lashed out with her other foot, connecting solidly with her attacker’s groin. The man jerked upright with a strangled shriek. Logan yanked him off the carriage step and threw him down to the roadbed. He hit the paving stones and curled into a ball, hands clapped between his legs as he loudly moaned.

  Logan reached for Donella and helped her sit up. “Are ye all right, lass?”

  “I . . . I’m fine.”

  With shaking hands, she struggled to rearrange her clothing. One of her stockings had come undone, exposing her pale skin and fine-boned ankle. Logan pulled down her skirts and then helped her climb back onto the seat of the carriage.

  “That was a grand hit, Donella,” he said gruffly. “Well done.”

  Her lips trembled into an uncertain smile. “I was trying to stab him, but I dropped my hatpin.”

  Logan glanced at the man in the road, still a whimpering ball. “Trust me, that was considerably more effective.”

  “You were very impressive, too,” she earnestly said. “You tossed that man over the side of the bridge like a sack of potatoes.” Then she frowned. “I do hope you didn’t kill him.”

  “I doubt it, but I’m not wasting any tears over the idiot.”

  Her gaze slid away as she reached for her bonnet. “I’m fairly certain they didn’t wish to hurt me, despite their rough handling.”

  At the sound of clattering hooves, Logan glanced forward. The man who’d attacked Foster had retreated, and Red Scarf had obviously helped the leader back onto his horse. Without a backward glance, the three riders took off in the direction of Perth, leaving their injured compatriots behind.

  “And I’m fairly certain they did wish to hurt Davey and Foster, and me,” he said.

  She flashed him a troubled glance. “Yes, that was very bad.”

  There was something she wasn’t telling him, but now was not the time for an interrogation.

  Donella put on her bonnet. “What next, sir?”

  “We get out of here before the bastards have a chance to regroup.”

  “Although I don’t approve of your language, Mr. Kendrick, I do approve of that course of action.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said dryly.

  He stepped down and closed the door of the carriage. The man in the road was starting to show signs of rousing himself, so Logan grabbed him by the collar, dragged him to the side of the bridge, and dumped him over. A yell and a loud splash followed.

  Donella opened her window and leaned out with a scowl. “Was that really necessary?”

  “Yes.” He glanced at Davey, still rolling about on the ground with his attacker. “Davey, stop larking about and put an end to it.”

  “I’m trying, sir,” the groom exclaimed in a strangled tone. “But he ain’t fightin’ fair.”

  Logan plucked the man off Davey and tossed him headfirst into the stone guardrail of the bridge. The fellow collapsed into a sad heap on the cobblestones.

  Davey clambered to his feet, glancing first at his opponent and then at Logan.

  “I reckon he won’t be gettin’ up for a while,” the groom said, sounding a bit awestruck.

  “That’s the plan. Reload your pistol, lad. Take some ammunition from my kit if you don’t have any.”

  “Aye, Mr. Kendrick.”

  When Logan headed toward the front of the carriage to speak to Foster, he caught Donella staring at him with her mouth slightly ajar.

  “Yes, Miss Haddon?”

  She pointed to the unconscious man crumpled against the bridge. “I’m just wondering why you didn’t toss him over, too.”

  He shrugged. “Och, that would just be showing off.”

  “Mr. Kendrick, I’m not sure all this mayhem was truly necessary, under the circumstances.”

  “Under the circumstances?” he echoed with disbelief. “It was truly necessary to save your pretty little arse, Miss Haddon.”

  “Sir, that language is entirely—”

  “What aren’t you telling me?” he interrupted.

  For several moments, only silence greeted him.

  “I have no more insight into this matter than you do,” she finally said.

  “Then I suppose we’ll have to roust the local magistrate in Perth, or find the constable—”

  “No!”

  Logan frowned at her panicked tone. “Again, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. But my uncle Riddick wouldn’t like us to make a public fuss over this.”

  “He’ll not like anyone trying to kidnap his niece, either.”

  “There is clearly more here than meets the eye,” Donella said firmly. “I insist that you let my uncle handle this. Besides, you’ve tossed half these men into the river, and with the exception of that unconscious person, everyone else has fled.”

  “Happens she’s right, sir,” said Foster from the coachman’s seat. “I canna see them ahead at all.”

  “But they’ll likely return for their friends,” Donella said. “We should go.”

  Logan debated with himself. He loathed mysteries, and there was definitely a mystery here. The lass was the key, but she wasn’t sharing.

  “This is quite probably a clan issue, which means my uncle will wish to maintain control over the situation,” the girl added. “Not turn it over to a magistrate.”

  He mentally grimaced. Although a good man, the earl was notoriously traditional and high-handed. And given the delicate state of Logan’s business negotiations with the old fellow, he couldn’t afford to offend him or his favored niece.

  Davey turned and peered down the road. “I hear somethin’, sir. Several horses, maybe.”

  Logan heard it too, and that tipped the scales.

  “I’m going to ride up with Foster,” he said to Donella. “Pull the shade down and bloody well keep out of sight.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said in a sarcastic tone.

  “And don’t think this is the end of it, lass. We will be having a discussion once I get you to safety.”

  “I assure you, there is nothing to discuss.” She slammed the window glass shut and pulled the shade closed.

  Chapter Five

  Less than an hour after the attempted abduction, the carriage turned into the yard of a small coaching establishment in the village of Tibbermore.

  Donella breathed out a shaky sigh of relief. Although still distinctly unnerved, she was convinced her life had never truly been in danger. Revenge against her uncle seemed a large part of the mysterious plan.

  That it was a clan matter was beyond doubt, and those affairs were usually messy and occasionally violent. The risk to her innocent escorts had frightened her more than any threat to herself.

  That her would-be abductors were willing to injure her uncle’s men and a Kendrick placed it on the level of a full-blown clan feud. Uncle Riddick had certainly made enemies in his time. But he was a powerful and respected laird, and the attack was a grave insult
to him, with potentially dire consequences.

  Thankfully, Mr. Kendrick had saved the day. He’d dealt with the villains with a casual disregard for his own safety, dodging bullets and tossing assailants off the Perth Bridge like skittle pins. She’d not seen such easy, awe-inspiring strength since the clan gatherings of her youth, when handsome and braw Roddy Murray had always cheerfully bested his many rivals. Back then, all the lasses had swooned over Roddy.

  Donella, regretfully, had swooned right along with them.

  But Logan Kendrick was quite different than the good-natured but dim Roddy. Beneath Kendrick’s roguish charm lurked something grim, even dangerous. And although he’d tried not to kill any of the attackers, she had no doubt he’d have done so if necessary. The man had shown himself to be quick thinking, decisive, and ruthless.

  Donella was used to strong, fiercely protective men. Her brother and cousin certainly fit that bill. But Kendrick rattled her in a way no man ever had, even though they’d just met. It was not a feeling she enjoyed.

  He was also clearly intent on getting to the bottom of the incident. Donella had some suspicions regarding their attackers, although she prayed she was overreacting. But whether her suspicions were valid or not, whatever was afoot was private family business. For the sake of her reputation, not to mention her family’s good name, she intended to keep her secrets to herself.

  When Donella entered the convent, a number of barely repressed scandals had been hidden away with her. Now that she was out in the world again, she would do whatever it took to keep those scandals safely buried.

  The carriage door opened, and Donella squinted against the glare of torches lighting up the coaching yard.

  Kendrick appeared in the doorway. “It’s safe to come out. I’ve had a quick look around and all seems as quiet as the grave.”

  She took his hand and stepped down to the cobblestones. “That’s rather unfortunate phrasing, given our circumstances.”

  He flashed a sardonic smile. “Nay, lass. Not with me here to protect you.”

  Kendrick loomed over her, a powerful giant of a man. The fact that his assessment was likely correct didn’t make it any less irritating.

  “Are you always this self-confident? It’s annoying.”