Elise straightened and yanked Bonnie into her arms "It will be dark soon—" Tavis faced her and she stopped short when his gaze focused on something behind her.
Elise looked over her shoulder. Half a dozen riders emerged from the forest across the meadow. She started. Good Lord, what had possessed her to leave Brahan Seer without a pistol? She was as big a fool as Tavis and without the excuse of youth. She slid Bonnie to the ground as the warriors approached. They halted fifteen feet away. Elise edged Bonnie behind her when one of the men urged his horse closer. Her pulse jumped. Was it possible to become accustomed to the size of these Highland men?
She flushed at the spectacle of his open shirt but couldn't stop her gaze from sliding along the velvety dark hair that trailed downward and tapered off behind a white lawn shirt negligently tucked into his kilt. The large sword strapped to his hip broke the fascination.
How many had perished at the point of that weapon?
The hard muscles of his chest and arms gave evidence—many.
The man directed a clipped sentence in Gaelic to Tavis. The boy started past her, but she caught his arm. The men wore the red and green plaide of her benefactors the MacGregors, but were strangers.
"What do you want?" She cursed the curt demand that had bypassed good sense in favor of a willing tongue.
Except for a flicker of surprise across the man's face, he sat unmoving.
Elise winced inwardly, remembering her American accent, but said in a clear voice, "I asked what you want."
Leather groaned when he leaned forward on his saddle. He shifted the reins to the hand resting in casual indolence on his leg and replied in English, "I asked the boy why he is unarmed outside the castle with two females."
Caught off guard by the deep vibrancy of his soft burr, her heart skipped a beat. "We don't need weapons on MacGregor land." She kept her tone unhurried.
"The MacGregor's reach extends as far as the solitude of this glen?" he asked.
"We are only fifteen minutes from the village," she said. "But his reach is well beyond this place."
"He is great, indeed," the warrior said.
"You know him?"
"I do."
She lifted Bonnie. "Then you know he would wreak vengeance on any who dared harm his own."
"Aye," the man answered. "The MacGregor would hunt them down like dogs. Only," he paused, "how would he know who to hunt?"
She gave him a disgusted look. "I tracked these children. You think he cannot track you?"
"A fine point," he agreed.
"Good." She took a step forward. "Now, we will be getting home."
"Aye, you should be getting home." He urged his horse to intercept. Elise set Bonnie down, shoving her in Tavis's direction. "And," the man went on, "we will take you." The warriors closed in around them. "The lad will ride with Erin. Give the little one to Kyle, and you," his eyes came back hard on Elise, "will ride with me."
The heat in his gaze sent a flush through her, but her ire piqued. "We do not accept favors from strangers."
His gaze unexpectedly deepened.
She stilled. What the devil? Was that amusement on his face?
"We are not strangers," he said. There was no mistaking the laughter in his eyes now. "Are we, Tavis?" His gaze shifted to the boy.
"Nay," he replied with a shy smile. "No' strangers at all, laird."
"You know this man?" Elise asked.
"He is the laird's son."
"Marcus!" Bonnie cried, peeking from behind Elise's skirts.
Elise looked at him. Marcus? This was the son Cameron had spoken of with such affection these past months? It suddenly seemed comical that she had doubted Cameron's stories of his son's exploits on the battlefield. She had believed the aging chief's stories were exaggerations, but the giant of a man before her was clearly capable of every feat with which his father had credited him.
Prodded by the revelation, she discerned the resemblance between father and son. Though grey sprinkled Cameron's hair, the two shared the same unruly, dark hair, the same build… and… "You have his eyes," she said.
He chuckled.
Heat flooded her cheeks. She pulled Bonnie into her arms. "You might have said who you were." She gave him an assessing look. "Only that wouldn't have been half as much fun. Who will take the child?"
His gaze fixed on the hand she had wrapped around Bonnie and the small burn scar that remained as a testament of her folly. His attention broke when a voice from behind her said in a thick brogue, "'Tis me ye be looking for, lass." She turned to a weathered warrior who urged his mount forward.