Trapped with her Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #4)

Chapter 1

Megan breathed out slowly, sighting along the shaft of her arrow. The key to a good shot was to stay relaxed. It was something that new archers struggled with, relaxing their bodies and minds. They often forgot about their minds.

There was no sense in expecting an arrow to hit its target when the archer’s mind was in turmoil. It had taken Megan years to learn how to calm her mind, but now that she’d learned it, it was an invaluable skill.

There was nothing quite like the peace just before releasing an arrow. Today’s practice was easy as well. She knew she could hit the marker in the distance oak.

Thunk.

The arrow flew out of her bow, embedding itself deeply in the center of the chalked circle. Megan lowered her bow, allowing herself a brief grin.

What do ye think, Ma? She thought, sending up a quick prayer to her mother. Maybe her mother could hear. The best archer in the highlands, eh?

Maybe.

She drew another arrow, taking her time in aiming. There was no rush. She wasn’t overly keen on getting back home. The house where they’d all lived as children had seemed to shrink as they grew older, and now there didn’t seem to be quite enough room for everybody.

The forest pressed in tightly around the house, and for Megan, that meant safety. After all, nobody could find their home unless they already knew it was there. Times were dangerous, and trusting other people was a mistake; everybody knew that.

At that thought, the forest seemed to press in a little closer. In the silence before Megan released her second arrow, she quite clearly heard a twig crack somewhere in the undergrowth.

Her body tensed. Swallowing hard, Megan kept her grip on the arrow, even though the string shivered with tension and her arm muscles began to sting.

What was that? What was that?

She fought not to react. If she were being watched, then reacting would trigger an attack sooner. If they thought she was distracted…

She glanced around, using her peripheral vision to try to scout out the greenery around her. Abruptly, a nearby shrub began to shiver. Something was moving inside it.

Breathing in, Megan carefully moved the point of her arrow until it pointed at the bush.

“Come on,” she whispered under her breath. “Make me day.”

The bush quivered and shook, the leaves rattling…

And then a small, sand-colored rabbit jumped out. It watched her, faintly curious.

Exhaling, Megan turned the arrow back to the tree and released it.

Thunk. This time, the arrow landed about an inch away from the first. It was still a good shot, but not her best. The rabbit began to clean its ears.

“Nicely done, bunny,” Megan sighed, raking a hand through her hair, which was fighting its way loose from her braid, as usual. “I nearly shot ye.”

The rabbit did not seem to care.

And then a scream split the air, making Megan flinch. The rabbit startled, stamped twice, and vanished into the undergrowth.

Megan was running before she knew what she was doing, following the rough deer path that led to their cabin.

That sounded like Lily, she thought grimly, reaching back to pull an arrow from her quiver. She fitted it on the bow. Even the roughest, most fearless thieves might think twice with an arrow pointed at their eyes.

She burst through into the clearing, arrow ready, body tensed.

Lily stood at the front of the house, where a neat kitchen garden had been set up and maintained by Brigid all those years ago.

They each had a section to keep. Brigid grew beautiful flowers, while Valerie grew fruit and vegetables.

Lily’s section was right at the end, where herbs grew thickly—medicinal herbs, mostly, but some for cooking, too.

Megan’s section was somewhat overgrown. She’d have to see to that.

Lily was leaning back against the house, one hand on her rounding belly, and pointed a shaking hand at the bottom of the garden.

A deer stood just beyond the fence, stretching its graceful neck over to nibble on Lily’s herbs. It appeared completely unfazed by her scream.

“It’s eatin’ me rosemary, Megan!” Lily shrieked. “Do ye ken how hard I worked for that to grow?”

Megan groaned aloud, lowering her arrow. “I thought ye were gettin’ murdered. Why did ye scream like that, ye wretch?”

Lily pursed her lips. “Well, like I said. That creature is eatin’ me rosemary.”

“What do ye want me to do? Kill it?”

Lily frowned. “Nay, of course nae. Just… Just shoo it away.”

Megan eyed the deer, which continued to munch contentedly, not caring at all that it had an audience.

“I’m nae sure that deer is goin’ to be easily shooed.”

At that moment, Lily’s husband poked his head out of the door.

“Is it the deer again, love?” he asked sympathetically. Lily nodded sadly.

“I just have such a hankerin’ for rosemary,” she sighed, reaching out to take her husband’s hand. “I want it on everythin’.”

“I’ll shoo the deer, and we can gather as much rosemary as we can, and dry it out,” Alasdair suggested. He was good at finding solutions to complex problems, Megan had noticed. That was evident in how he maintained his clan.

Really, he and Lily should be there, but Megan couldn’t say that she was disappointed to have them staying with her.

All of her sisters were married now, their eyes fixed firmly on the future and their new lives, although Lily and her husband had been visiting for the past week.

Megan was… well, she wasn’t doing much at all, really.

As she watched, Alasdair bent down to press a kiss to Lily’s belly. She was about five months along and looked decidedly pregnant already. Lily smiled down at him and rested a hand in his hair.

Megan cleared her throat. “Well, if I’m nae needed, I’ll take meself off, then,” she said aloud.

Lily flashed her a quick smile. “Aye, Megan. Be sure to be back for supper, then.”

Supper was hours away. Was that a dismissal? Megan thought it might be.

Shouldering her bow, she tramped back to her little practice clearing.

I have to get used to this, she reminded herself, for what felt like the hundredth time. Me sisters are married. Children come, and they all have responsibilities. I cannae expect things to go on the way they were.

Even if I liked it that way.

Gritting her teeth, she nocked another arrow, letting it loose before aiming properly. This time, the arrow skimmed the side of her target tree, a decidedly bad shot. Groaning aloud, Megan sank onto a nearby tree stump and buried her head in her hands.

What will I do without them?

A twig cracked in the undergrowth once more. A strange atmosphere inched over the clearing, making every hair on Megan’s body stiffen. It was a primal feeling, the feeling a rabbit might feel if a fox were creeping closer, or a bird being stalked by a cat.

Or perhaps the feeling a young girl could feel, huddling in the upper branches of a tree while a wolf prowled by below. And, of course, there were worse predators in the forests than wolves.

There were people.

There was a pause after the snapping twig, then a slow, gentle rustle in the undergrowth, the sound of somebody trying to slip along quietly, but not quite succeeding.

Megan froze, her whole body stiffening. She’d hunted enough to learn to suppress her instinct to react blindly at a time like this. Her instinct told her to snap up her head and peer around at the trees, but all that would do was let whoever was watching her know that she knew.

And Megan knew now that she was being watched. She felt it like a heavy blanket settling over her shoulders. The rabbit was long gone, and no birdsong sounded from the surrounding trees.

Something had arrived, something that had frightened the animals away. Megan sat up slowly, breathing out and squaring her shoulders.

Stay calm. Stay calm.

She glanced around the trees, trying to identify where the sound had come from. As she did so, she let one hand fall to where her bow lay at her side. The trick would be to slip an arrow out of the quiver without being noticed.

A slow, heavy crunch came from the trees. A sure sign that somebody was trying to come closer. Megan breathed in, trying to steel herself and breathe away the anxiety.

So far, it wasn’t working.

She could scream, of course. If she could hear Lily’s scream from here, then they could hear her.

But so could whoever was in the bushes, watching her.

They were moving now, foliage rippling around them, and she could tell that they were trying to be quiet. Just as a cloaked figure burst out of the woods, Megan leaped to her feet, whipping out an arrow and sending it flying from the bow.

Thunk.

The shape dodged sideways, narrowly avoiding an arrow through the shoulder. As it was, the point snagged their linen shirt and heavy cloak at the shoulder, pinning them to the tree.

Megan let out a ragged breath, blinking. She could see now that her would-be assailant was a man of about thirty, with long, reddish hair, a reddish beard, and a tartan she did not recognize.

The arrow had gone straight through the material around his shoulder, pinning the shirt, cloak, and him to the tree. He blinked at the arrow, jaw slack.

“Well,” he said at last. “They were right about ye bein’ a good shot, eh, lassie?”

She nocked another arrow and aimed it at him. “I could have a dozen soldiers here with one scream,” she lied, meeting his gaze. “Better tell me who ye are, and quickly.”

The man chuckled. “I ken exactly who is with ye. Yer pregnant sister and her husband are back at the cabin, and they aren’t thinking much of ye at the moment, I can tell ye. I mean ye nay harm, lassie.”

Megan swallowed. “Are ye here to take me sister?”

“Nay,” he answered, not even looking at her. He lifted a hand to the arrow’s shaft, neatly snapping it in two with one massive hand. “Me master sent me to ye.”

“To me? Who is yer master, and what would he want with me?”