Highland Warrior Read Online Free PDF Page B

wrist and retied the other end around his own. “Weel? Go on.” He almost backed up another step when she glared at him.
    For one brief moment, Fiona considered not going. It would be humiliating to relieve herself with him standing so close by. Unfortunately, her full bladder was making it all too clear that she would regret that decision, would humiliate herself even more if she did not hurry on her way. Muttering curses against all men, she started on her way again, glaring hard at his broad back when he took the lead.
    As she found herself on one side of a tangled clump of shrubs with him on the other a few minutes later, Fiona did wonder why she was so disturbed by it all. She had been raised by her five brothers, and there had been very little refinement or delicacy at Deilcladach for the first thirteen years of her life. When Gillyanne had arrived, some gentling of their rough ways had followed, but she doubted anyone would consider the MacEnroys refined. Performing a basic, necessary function within the hearing of another should not be troubling her as much as it was. It troubled her so much that, despite her desperate need, she was unable to relieve herself until he began. When had she become such a delicate flower of womanhood? Fiona prayed that her sudden sensitivity was not because she had some mad wish to appeal to the man.
    “I need to wash,” she said when he began to drag her back to the campsite.
    Ewan looked at her, idly wondering why he should think she looked so tempting when she was scowling at him. “Ye do understand that ye are a hostage, dinnae ye, and nay a guest?”
    Fiona looked pointedly at the rope leashing her to his side, then looked back at him. “I believe my poor, wee woman’s mind has begun to grasp that fact. I still want to wash.”
    “I think ye were raised with too light a hand upon the reins,” he grumbled as he led her to a small brook several yards away.
    “I think I was raised perfectly.”
    She ignored his grunt and tried to ignore the rope on her wrist as they both knelt by the brook to wash their faces and hands. Taking from her pocket a small square of embroidered linen Gilly insisted she carry at all times, Fiona dampened it in the cold waters. She was rubbing her teeth clean when an abrupt sense of approaching danger made her tense. A heartbeat later, as she searched the wood for some sign of what had stirred her alarm, she felt Ewan tense.
    “Enemies?” she asked in a near whisper even as she stood up with him. “So close to your lands?”
    “On every side and round every corner,” he muttered. “How fast can ye run?”
    “If we werenae tied together, I could beat ye back to the camp.”
    “Just keeping pace with me will do for now.” He caught the glint of sunlight hitting metal in the thick wood on the other side of the brook. “Now.”
    They had not run far when Fiona pulled a little ahead and Ewan realized she had not been giving him some idle boast. She was not only swift, but agile, nimbly dodging or leaping over every obstacle in their path. The moment they reached the camp, heuntied the rope around their wrist as he curtly told his men to prepare for an attack. He shoved Fiona toward Simon and commanded the youth to guard and protect her.
    Fiona bit back a protest as Simon dragged her to a spot near the horses and to the rear of Ewan and his men. Now was not a good time to argue over her right and ability to defend herself. She did wish she had her sword, however. It felt wrong to stand there completely unarmed, a youth of but sixteen summers her only shield against any enemy who might reach them.
    That enemy reached the camp but a moment later. They swarmed out of the wood from two different directions so swiftly and silently, Fiona was astonished that the MacFingals were not startled into a dangerous moment of hesitation. Instead, they met the attack with a speed and ferocity that was awe inspiring. Although Simon was doing an admirable job of