Page 46 of When the Laird Conquers

“Gordon?” she croaked, wondering where on earth he might be.

All of a sudden, he was there, moving as swiftly and gracefully as a fox, unhindered by his height and bulk. He grabbed the first man by the head, and as if by magic, the man dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Agnes hadn’t even seen what had happened. It was like Gordon had touched the Englishman, and that had been enough to knock him out.

The second man’s fate was clearer. A short blade flashed in the sunlight, like a fish darting in a stream. The man’s eyes flew wide as the dagger disappeared into his throat and Gordon yanked upward in a clean motion—a butcher’s skill. Blood sprayed outward as the man fell, a heavy thud reverberating through the square and into Agnes’s already aching back.

The women got out of the way, two of them stooping to help Agnes to her feet at last, while Gordon went for the last Englishman, a fair-haired man who held Lizzy as if she were a chicken that had been rustled and not a precious baby.

The same dagger that had ripped out the second man’s throat was plunged into the last man’s temple as if he had butter there instead of bone. Agnes shrieked, fearing that Lizzy might be dropped, but Gordon was a step ahead.

Leaving the blade where he had plunged it, he used both hands to wrench Lizzy out of the Englishman’s grasp and pulled her quickly to his chest. He cradled her, gently holding her head as if to prevent her from seeing the bloody destruction he had caused in her honor.

It might have been a sweet sight to behold if it were not for the shock and the viscera.

“Ye’re all right, lassie,” she thought she heard Gordon murmuring to Lizzy. “Aye, ye’re all right.”

Before she could be certain, the village women surrounded her, making sure that she was well, asking her if she was in any pain or if they could give her something to help with the shock of it all. She lost her voice, too stunned to speak, her mind awash with the nightmare of Gordon’s eastern tower, now filled with the bodies of those dead Englishmen.

It had all happened so quickly that she still wasn’t completely sure what she had seen. Rather, the enormity of it had not yet caught up to her, though it was doing its best.

She began to shake, unable to catch her breath, her head dizzy, though she thought she heard Gordon asking one of the women to send a variety of fabric to the castle. It seemed like such a strange and unnatural request after what had just occurred that she was sure she was imagining it.

Then he was at her side, Lizzy cradled in his arm.

With a gentleness that startled her, he took hold of her hand and pulled her through the mass of worried women to the waiting carriage. He didn’t say a word as he helped her inside and covered her in blankets, nor did she argue or try to bat his hands away as he placed Lizzy back into the sling, though it meant him touching her.

When he was done, and Lizzy was safely stowed away, he still didn’t speak as he closed the door, instructed the driver to head for home, and swung himself up into the saddle of his horse.

All the way back, he rode alongside her, visible through the window. This time, however, she had no desire to ask silly questions. She just sat there and held Lizzy tightly, feeling so stupid that she had brought her beloved niece on this fateful excursion at all.

He warned me, and I did not listen.

If Gordon had not acted when he did, who knew what might have happened. The women would have continued to try and help, but what if they had been overwhelmed? What if the Englishmen had gotten away with the baby, all because Agnes had been too stubborn to stay at the castle?

“I might never have seen you again,” she whispered, kissing Lizzy’s fluffy hair as a hot tear ran down her cheek.

It would have been like losing her sister all over again.

Gordon cursed himself all the way back to the castle. Of course, the one moment he had been distracted was the one moment that those sly English weasels had slithered in to attack.

He patted the fold in his kilt that served as a pocket, feeling the rounded outline of the object that had almost cost Lizzy her freedom and him his honor as a protector.

Idiot. Ye utter idiot.

What sort of laird and battle-hardened warrior took their attention away from possible danger for a stupid toy?

In truth, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with it now. He had been buying the gift when the Englishmen made their move, so if he gave it to the baby now, it would just serve as a reminder of what could have happened.

No, the toy was useless now. He would just put it away in a box somewhere and forget he had ever bought it.

Maybe he could say it was something he had found that he thought Lizzy might like? But that, too, would mean stepping over the boundary he had set in the tower.

Then again, considering what Agnes had just been through, that boundary was probably to be temporarily ignored anyway. He knew he could not put himself in such a dangerously intimate situation again, but that did not mean he had to be cruel.

She called for me, and I came runnin’.

He wasn’t sorry that she had been right either. He just wished he had seen the trouble before it took place. Killing three Englishmen in a public square would undoubtedly have repercussions. He just didn’t yet know what they might be.