The Warrior Laird Read Online Free PDF Page B

The two of them had been outcasts together, and Maura had vowed always to take care of her.
    She’d failed her once, but would not fail her again.
    â€œ ’T was a bonny shot, Laird,” Bryce remarked as they turned their horses to head north, away from the water.
    Kieran slapped Dugan on the back and grinned. “You might have crossed through the burn and spoken to the lass, Dugan. She’d likely show you her gratitude in a very—”
    â€œAch, aye, Laird!” Archie chimed in with enthusiasm. “Ye’ve missed a wondrous opportunity for a fine tumble. The lass was as fair as any I’ve seen.”
    â€œAnd leave you bloomin’ idiots to find your way to Fort William without me?” In truth, Dugan could think of little but those bright eyes and full, sensuous lips that had been frozen in fear. He’d like naught more than to feel that bonny mouth upon his, but he could not afford to be distracted from his purpose.
    The men laughed, clearly in need of a bit of good humor, for they all knew the dubious state of Dugan’s grand plan.
    At least he had a plan. Of sorts.
    â€œWe’ll stop here, while we still have daylight,” Dugan said. He dismounted in a dry, rocky area and pulled the two sections of the map from his traveling pack behind his saddle.
    Lachann took both pieces from him and laid them out side by side on a large, flat rock. The men all gathered ’round to look.
    â€œWhat do ye see, Lachann?” Archie asked.
    â€œBlue ink, which seems to indicate lochs and rivers,” Lachann replied, pointing to a large, elongated blue pool that looked to Dugan like the shape of Loch Shin, far in the north.
    â€œWhat are those?” Calum pointed to the various symbols that had been drawn in black ink.
    â€œMountains and forests,” Dugan replied. He’d studied his grandfather’s portion of the map often enough to know what they meant. And it was quite clear that they were looking at the northernmost portion of the highlands.
    â€œ ’Tis not much of a map,” Archie remarked.
    Dugan could not deny it. Mackenzie’s quarter had been torn from the whole, just like his grandfather’s. But perhaps this was the part that held the all-important clue that Dugan needed to discover where the gold was hidden. The bottom edge of it fit against the top of the MacMillan map, and Dugan recognized the shapes of his own territory—Loch Maree and Skye, to the west.
    â€œLook at that marking.” Dugan pointed to an irregular pattern of black ink next to what looked like Loch Monar.
    â€œIs it a village?” Lachann asked.
    Dugan frowned. “There are no other villages marked.”
    â€œDo ye think the gold is hidden there, Laird?” Archie asked.
    Dugan gave a puzzled shake of his head. He did not know what to think.
    â€œ ’Tis possible there are villages marked on the other pieces of the map,” Lachann said.
    â€œTrue.” But they did not have any other pieces of map to compare this to.
    â€œDo ye think the French would have hidden their gold in a village, Dugan?” Conall MacMillan asked. “Seems like they’d want it away and well hidden, where only their own men could find it.”
    â€œAye.” That’s what his grandfather had believed, too.
    Lachann walked away from the group. He’d never hidden his doubts about this quest. Hell, Dugan had his own doubts. But their grandfather’s faith in the map and the rumors about gold had been too strong for him to ignore.
    And his clan had never been in such dire need.
    The MacMillans had lived at Braemore on the banks of Loch Maree for centuries, raising cattle and growing the crops they needed for sustenance. To Dugan, Braemore was the most beautiful place on earth, and not just because it had become his home after he and his siblings had fled Glencoe.
    The loch was grand, as were the mountains that circled it. Dugan and his brothers