Page 12 of Highland Spy

The courtyard was little more than an empty field of snow and flecks of crushed grass surrounded by impossibly high stone walls. It was every bit the cage any debtor’s prison would have been and, not for the first time, Ariana wondered if she’d made the right decision.

A large man with wild blond hair gripped her horse’s reins, drawing her steed to a stop.

“Welcome to hell.” Though he presented a jovial grin, his words shot straight to her gut.

“Enough, Murdoch,” Sylvi said in a warning tone.

The man shrugged his shoulders. “Ach, I’m just toying with the new lasses. I’ll no’ be here long to share my winning personality.”

Sylvi offered an unladylike snort and leaped gracefully from her own horse.

Ariana did likewise, except the act was far from graceful, and she landed on knees too soft to support her. When her legs buckled, she went sprawling to the cold, wet ground, no doubt staining her dress.

She shouldn’t worry about her dress, she knew. After all, she’d lived in the garment for God knew how long, and only He knew how many stains the road must have already marked upon the once-fine velvet. But it was one of the few ones she hadn’t been forced to sell, one of the few reminders of her former life.

And now even such a scant token was ruined.

Just like she was.

She lay where she fell, no longer possessing the motivation to rise, nor the fortitude to do so.

The harsh sound of retching met her ears, followed by a curse from Sylvi. Ariana lifted her head, wanting to rise to aid Liv, but her legs would not comply.

“Get Percy.” An authoritative masculine voice rose above Sylvi’s muttering, stopping it along with the beat of Ariana’s heart.

She pulled in a hard breath, and the icy chill of it raked down her lungs. If only the ground would open and let her tumble away into its depths rather than let him see her thus. After all, it was the first time she’d seen him since he’d caught her.

Connor.

• • •

Connor rushed toward the pile of pale blue velvet on the ground.

“I’d rather ye took yer time arriving than show up with them half dead.” He shot a hard glance toward Sylvi.

He bent over Ariana and scooped her up, the mass of skirts and velvet and all. The insignificance of her weight needled his thoughts.

She lifted a hand to stop him and shook her head, but he already had her in his arms. “Please.” Her voice was a mere thread. “I can—”

“You made them my responsibility.” Sylvi squared her shoulders and met his look. “And I saw fit to rush their arrival.”

Despite her tone, her gaze darted with concern between both women.

“Please, I can walk.” The sound came from the bundle Connor carried.

Ariana moved in his arms, attempting to extricate herself.

“Aye, but I can easily carry ye,” he said softly.

She ceased her struggling. “And I can easily walk. I didn’t anticipate my legs would be so tired from the longer ride today.”

“I’ll no’ have ye falling to yer death on the stairs,” he said, and strode toward the manor entrance with snow crunching under his feet.

A glint of defiance sparked in her gaze despite her drooping lids.

He shifted her in his arms, so her head rested against his chest and the stairs would be easier to maneuver. “Hush now, lass. Ye dinna have a choice in this.”

Her protests quieted, and by the time he made it to the small room she would share with the other new woman, her deep, even breathing told him she’d fallen asleep.