The Highlander's Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

enough to leave the nursery and become a lady, thus ending her amusements in life.
    Standing on the boulder was better, but still her view was obstructed. A low-hanging branch provided a tempting option and she took it, hoisting herself up into a tree. Now she had a clear view of the surrounding area. Below her was the road she had found yesterday, and beyond that was another road, which might suit her purpose of returning to her country.
    She was engaged with trying to find a path to this road when she noticed something else. A line of men leading horses were tracking through the forest in her general direction. At first her hopes soared, thinking it must be her captain, come to rescue her. She was disabused of this happy notion when the men stepped into a clearing, and their livery became clearly visible. They were Tynsdale’s men.
    Isabelle gasped and leaned forward, hoping that perhaps she had been mistaken. She was not. Careful scrutiny confirmed they were indeed her husband’s guard come looking for her.
    At once she felt the deprivation of her genteel education, which did not afford her with such language as she now felt necessary to convey her true feelings. She envied Campbell, for in his darkest moment he had not appeared to suffer from a loss of words.
    What with leaning forward to see her tormentors drawing nearer, and her idle musings on her lack of vulgar vocabulary, she lost hold of the branch and slipped forward with a shriek onto another one a few feet below. She swung forward, her feet dangling in the air. The branch was not sufficient for her weight and it bent down at such an angle that she lost her grip, and fell to the ground, a mere few feet away. She landed in a heap, panting and shaken, but unhurt.
    “Bother!” she exclaimed, and knew it to be a woefully inadequate expression of her current wretched situation. Throwing off all propriety she lifted her skirts in both hands and raced down the hill, ignoring the sting and scrape of branches as she ran. She must fly or risk being taken prisoner.
    Her only hope now was in throwing herself on the mercy of a barbarian Scot. Truly, not even one proficiently schooled in the art of foul language could have the words to describe this sad circumstance.
    But… what if he was gone?
    ***
     
    David Campbell regained his mount after a brief but decisive altercation with the knave who had stolen his horse. He had heard Isabelle leave early that morning, and considered trying to stop her, but let her go. He had offered his help. If she chose not to accept it, the better it was for him. He was already behind schedule and taking up a female would only slow him further.
    After she left, he followed the trail left by the horse thief. Fortunately, he found the thief had made his own camp about a mile away. Unfortunately, the thief had helped himself to the whiskey Douglas had given him. If stealing his horse had not already inflamed Campbell’s anger, drinking his whiskey sealed the thief’s fate.
    Astride his mount, Campbell turned toward Glasgow. The dark road stretched out before him, still cast in the shadows of early dawn. He ought to move fast, for he was already late. He turned back to where he had made camp with the little English vixen. He had offered his help. She had refused it. He had no obligation to help her. And yet he was plagued by memories of her kiss, warm yet innocent. He could not shake the impression that there was more to her story than had been revealed. She was in trouble, that much was clear. Good thing it was none of his concern.
    Campbell had enough female trouble of his own. His visit to Douglas, his former foster father, had been brief. He had ducked some rather pointed questions from Lady Douglas as to the timing of his nuptials with her daughter, replying that he still mourned the loss of his father. His sire had died last fall, and this being spring, the excuse was growing a bit lame. Campbell cited urgent business at one of his