Chapter 8

What instinct warned Morgan the lass was about to clout him, he didn’t know. But he managed to twist just enough to make the blow land on the inside of his thigh rather than its intended target.

It still hurt like hell. For a wench, she packed a powerful punch. But at least he’d saved himself from debilitating damage. He quickly trapped her lethal arm against his side.

He probably deserved that punch.

First, it was completely against his code of honor to brandish his claymore at a woman, let alone one unclothed and unarmed.

And second, a good clout might have put an end to the unnatural craving he was experiencing, a craving exacerbated by holding a naked, squirming lass against his body.

Now what was he going to do?

He certainly didn’t intend to give her a second opportunity to strike him.

Could he just put her down and let her go? She must realize by now she was no match for him.

On the other hand, she seemed curiously fearless. She didn’t respond to violence. Maybe chivalry and reason would convince her to return to wherever she’d come from.

He was about to offer her the leine off his back, so she could at least be decent for the journey home, when two more lasses suddenly emerged from the trees into the moonlight.

It was an unpleasant surprise. But at least these two were clothed.

“Unhand her!” ordered the tall blonde. She spoke with an authority he’d never heard before in a woman, striding across the field with a regal bearing, as if he should obey her command without question. He didn’t much care for her tone, particularly since she didn’t know whom she was addressing.

A dark-haired lass followed the blonde like a smaller shadow, dressed in black, slipping silently through the grass.

These must be the naked lass’s cohorts.

Great, he thought as his nose began to throb. Now what?

“I’d advise you do as she bids, before ’tis too late,” the shadowy lass chimed in. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

The scoff burst out of him involuntarily. “Hurt…me?” His statement would have been more effective had blood not been dripping from his nose.

“Put me down,” the naked lass muttered. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

That amused him even more. He might not know their names. But it was clear he was dealing with three lasses. Lasses. Aye, he’d been caught off guard with that punch to his nose. But it wouldn’t happen again.

Now, however, there was no way he was going to let them just go on their merry way. He wasn’t about to let them walk away, thinking they’d bested him.

He was new here. He had yet to make a name for himself. A man’s reputation was critical. If they started spreading gossip about how the three of them—three lasses—had subdued the new Laird of Creagor, he’d never live it down.

Perhaps he could call them on their empty threats.

“Fine,” he said. “Then tell me, lassie, who exactly am I dealin’ with?”

The blonde straightened with pride. To his surprise, she was almost as tall as his man Colban.

“I’m Hallidis Cameliard. This is my cousin Feiyan la Nuit. And Jenefer du Lac is the one you’ve got in a death grip. We’re the Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch.”

He resisted a snicker. He’d heard his father speak of Rivenloch. It was the property adjoining Creagor. But Warrior Daughters? They had to be jesting.

“Och aye,” he drawled, “and I’m the Lion o’ Scotland.”

“I knew he wouldn’t believe us,” dark-haired Feiyan said, shaking her head.

Hallidis held up her hands in peace. “We mean you no harm. But you must put our cousin down.”

“Or what?”

Jenefer strained in his grip and bit out, “Or they’ll run you through before you can say ‘Lucifer’s ballocks’.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jen,” Hallidis scolded, then turned to him. “We’ll do no such thing.”

Jenefer stiffened in outrage. “What do you mean?”

“I told you before,” Hallidis explained. “We’re on a mission of diplomacy.”

Morgan’s brows popped up. Diplomacy? They had a strange way of showing it.

“Thor’s rod, Hallie! Does he look diplomatic to you?” Jenefer demanded.

“Besides,” Hallidis added, “we’re unarmed.”

“What!” Jenefer exploded. “You’re unarmed? You mean to say you followed me here and brought no weapons? Then why did you bother coming at all?”

Morgan was beginning to wonder if he should drop the lass to the ground and let the three work out their differences on their own when he spied a dark figure out of the corner of his eye. Someone else was stealing through the shadows behind the lasses.

For an instant, he feared he might be outnumbered.

Then moonlight glinted off the intruder’s golden hair.

Colban.

He’d probably heard the noise and come down to lend aid.

Meanwhile, the Warrior Daughters bickered on, unaware they were being stalked.

“We had to come, Jen,” Hallidis said pointedly, “because you broke the pact.”

“I didn’t break it. I followed the plan. I just…acted independently.”

“You ran off. We were supposed to do this together.”

Morgan could hardly keep up. What were they supposed to do together?

The one called Feiyan tried to intervene. “Honestly, sir,” she said politely, “’twould be best if you let our cousin go now.”

Colban was sneaking up behind the dark-haired lass. Morgan could see him, but he gave no indication.

“If I let her go,” he said, “what assurances do I have she won’t attack me again?”

“She’ll give you her word,” Feiyan said. “Isn’t that right, Jen?”

“The devil I will!” Jenefer declared, struggling anew. “The bastard came at me with a claymore!”

“Ye see?” Morgan said as he saw Colban inch closer.

“I do,” Feiyan said, lowering her brows and giving him a curious look of regret. “But don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.”

Just as Colban loomed over the lass, about to spring, Feiyan suddenly bent forward and spun round. She swung her leg in a powerful arc, clipping Colban’s chiseled jaw with surprising accuracy and force.

So unexpected was the violent outburst that Morgan almost dropped Jenefer.

“Feiyan, nay!” Hallidis shouted.

But demure Feiyan paid no heed. No sooner did Colban recoil from the blow than the lass dropped to the ground and swept both legs forward toward Morgan, catching the back of his calves and bowling him over like a wooden pin.

Chivalry was ingrained in Morgan, even in circumstances like these. As he fell, he took care not to crush the naked lass in his arms. But he needn’t have worried. As soon as he hit the sod, Jenefer sprang loose from his grip with a cry of victory.

Now he definitely couldn’t let them escape. Three lasses besting Morgan was bad enough. But three lasses making fools of Morgan and his right hand man…

That was insufferable.

With a roar, he righted himself and lunged toward Feiyan. But she was lightning fast. She dodged out of the way. Twice.

“Feiyan!” Hallidis barked again.

Colban gave his head a shake to restore his senses and then brought his arms together, attempting to grab the elusive Feiyan. She seemed to disappear into the darkness. Colban’s arms crossed, empty.

Before Morgan could comprehend what had happened, Feiyan stepped in and elbowed him in the stomach. His padded cotun absorbed most of the blow. But he was knocked enough off-balance that she managed to get in a jab with the heel of her hand, this one to the point of his chin.

Tiny lights burst in his vision like stars streaking across the heavens, fading into the black sky. He had one brief instant to wonder what the hell was happening.

Then, several yards away, he spied Jenefer swooping up his claymore. In the next moment, she came barreling toward him with the gleaming sword held aloft, like a naked avenging angel.

“Jen!” the other two lasses screamed.

But Jenefer wasn’t listening. She had fire in her eyes and vengeance in her heart. She clearly meant to slay him.

In a tiny, dark corner of his soul, he almost wished she would.

Then that bitter thought vanished, and his survival instincts kicked in.