by Amy Jarecki
And he was still bleeding like a stuck pig. “Even if I did purchase you a horse, you couldn’t ride. I’d wager you’d travel no more than a mile afore you fell off and succumbed to your wound.” Still holding the cloth in place, Akira reached for her basket. “Let me wrap this tight and I’ll call the soldiers. They’re helping the wounded into a cart.”
“Absolutely not!” His eyes flashed wide as he gripped her wrist. The man’s intense stare, combined with the hard line of his jaw, wasn’t the look of a pleading man—it was the look of a man who would not be disobeyed. “Atholl’s men must not know I’m here.”
She gave him her most exasperated expression while she wrapped the bandage around his thigh. Asserting her authority as a healer, Akira squared her shoulders. She was in charge, not he. “You ken they can help you.”
“The Government troops? They’re murderers.” He winced. “They’d slit my throat for certain.”
Since the battle’s end, she hadn’t seen anyone slit a throat…but then she hadn’t asked where the soldiers were taking the injured. She’d just assumed to the monastery to be tended by the monks. But the pure intensity of this man’s cold stare told her to do as he said. Beyond that, she believed him.
The hairs on her nape stood on end as she twisted the bandage like a tourniquet and tied it while questions needled her mind. If this man was as important as he seemed, why had he been left alone? “Who are you?”
“Merely…merely a Highlander who needs to haste back to his lands”—he drew in a stuttering breath—“a-afore the ill-breeding curs burn me out.”
She narrowed her gaze. A man of property? Akira wasn’t daft—especially when her mother’s larder was bare. “I’ll fetch you a horse if you pay me a shilling.”
“Done,” he said, as if such coin meant nothing. “Make haste and tell no one I’m here.”
Gulping, she glanced down to the sporran. She’d been in there once before. Besides, the Highlander was in no shape to do anything untoward. If it wasn’t for the need to care of her mother and three sisters, she’d call over the dragoons and let them see to this man’s need for a mount. But for a shilling? Ma would be so happy.
Akira’s fingers trembled.
Taking a deep breath, she reached inside the sporran. Her hand stuck in the neck, forcing her to twist her wrist to push deeper. Something hard flexed against her fingers. She froze. Holy hexes, she was shoving against the rock-hard wall of his inner thigh. She had no choice but to look down.
Dear Lord, please do not let anyone venture past us now.
With her hand completely buried in the man’s sporran, she looked like an alehouse harlot toying with his…unmentionables.
“Are ye having trouble, lass?” The man’s deep burr lulled with a hint of mischief, practically stopping her heart.
“No.” With a blink, she wrapped her fingers around a number of coins and forcefully drew her hand free.
Akira’s tongue went dry. Three silver shillings and two ten-shilling pieces filled her palm. She’d never seen so much coin in her life. No, she should not feel badly about asking for payment. After dropping one shilling in her pocket and returning all but one of the other coins, she held up a ten-shilling piece. This ought to be enough.
Standing, she hesitated. “What is your name, sir?”
A deep crease formed between his brows. “’Tis no concern of yours.”
He didn’t trust her—not that she trusted him, either. The only man she’d ever trusted was Uncle Bruno. “I won’t reveal it.” She crossed herself. “I swear on my grandfather’s grave.”
His lips thinned. “You can call me Geordie. And you, miss?”
Geordie is no given name I’ve ever heard. Odd.
She curtsied. “You may call me Akira.” Blast, she wasn’t going to say “Akie.” Only her sisters referred to her thus. And “Ayres” would make him suspicious for certain. Her family might be descendants of Gypsy stock, but they’d given up their heathen practices generations ago. If Mr. Geordie wanted to hide his identity, she certainly would hide hers.
***
After the healer left, George Gordon closed his eyes and prayed the woman had enough sense to keep her mouth shut. After Queen Anne had rejected the Scottish Parliament’s proposed Act of Security, the entire country was in an uproar—and ready to strike against the Government at last. Yes, he’d agreed to stand by his cousin and challenge the Government troops. The Act of Security was nothing but a sham, created to subvert the succession of the rightful Stuart line behind the guise of Protestantism.
Thank God he hadn’t worn anything to reveal his true identity. He’d even kept to the rear beside his cousin William. After he was thrown from his horse, the skirmish had raged on and the clansmen had charged ahead across the moorland, leaving Geordie for dead.
Once he’d dragged himself into the brush, he must have lost consciousness until that wisp of a healer found him. He thanked the stars it had been she and not a redcoat. His lands would be forfeit if Queen Anne discovered he’d ridden against the English crown.
James Stuart may be exiled, but he is the only king to whom I will pay fealty. I would take ten musket balls to the thigh if it assured his coronation.
Geordie’s leg throbbed—ached like someone had stabbed him with a firebrand. But through the pain, he must have dozed again, because it seemed that Akira returned in the blink of an eye.
He eyed her sternly, as he would a servant—an inexplicably bonny servant. “Did the stable master ask questions?” he demanded, forcing himself to sit up. God’s teeth, everything spun. The sharp pain made his gut churn.
She thrust a fist against her hip. “He asked where I came up with that kind of coin.”
Gordon licked his lips with an arid tongue. “How did you reply?”
Akira’s fist slid down to her side—a more respectful stance for a wee maid. “I told him I’d received handsome payment from His Lordship for tending his cousin.”
“His Lordship?”
“The Marquess of Atholl, of course.”
Smart lass. “Do you ken the marquess?” Bloody hell, he hoped not.
“If you call paying him fealty knowing him, then aye. So does everyone around these parts. He’s lord of these lands.”
And he supports the Government troops, the bastard.
Geordie needed to mount that damned horse and ride like hellfire. If anyone recognized him, he’d be shipped to the Tower of London where they’d make a public mockery of his execution.
He leaned forward to stand. Jesus Christ! Stars darted through his vision. Stifling his urge to bellow, he gritted his teeth.
The lass caught his arm. “Allow me to help.”
His insides clamped taut. Must she look at him with such innocent allure? indigo
He gave a curt nod, hating to accept any help but knowing it was necessary. “My thanks.”
Clenching his teeth, he slid his good foot beneath him. Akira tugged his arm while he pushed up with the other.
“Christ Almighty!” he bellowed from the depths of his gut before he had time to choke it back.
She slung his arm over her shoulder. A lot of good that did. The lass might make a useful crutch for a lad of twelve. “If they didn’t ken you were here before, they do now.”
“Ballocks!” he cursed, trying not to fall on top of the woman. Then he looked at the damned nag. “No saddle?”
She held out a few copper farthings. “There wasn’t enough.”
“Damnation.”
The urchin narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll not be cursed at like a doormat whilst I’m merely trying to help you.”
Geordie grumbled under his breath and removed his arm from her shoulder. He took quick note of the surroundings. They needed more cover for certain. He pointed deeper into the wood. “Lead the beast to the fallen tree, yonder.”
She didn’t budge. “Oh my,” she said with a gasp. “Your leg is bleeding something awful.”
He swayed on his feet. Good
God, he couldn’t lose his wits. Not until he had ridden to safety. “Can you stanch it?”
“Give me your belt.”
He slid his hands to his buckle, when a twig snapped behind them.
“Who goes there?” demanded a stern voice.
Akira’s eyes popped wide.
The beat of Geordie’s heart spiked. With a wave of strength, he grabbed the lassie’s waist and threw her atop the horse. Taking charge of the reins, he urged the beast into a run, steering it beside the fallen tree. Agonizing pain stabbed his thigh, but the pressing need to escape gave him herculean energy.
Haste.
In two leaps he landed astride the gelding, right behind the lass. Slapping the reins, he kicked his heels into the horse’s barrel as he pointed the beast down a narrow path. Stabbing torture in his thigh punished his every move.
Musket fire cracked from behind.
Geordie leaned forward, demanding more speed. He pressed lips to Akira’s ear. “Hold on, lass, for hell has just made chase.”
THE HIGHLAND DUKE will be released on March 28, 2017 reserve your copy now!
Not just a holiday read!
THE TIME TRAVELER’S CHRISTMAS
A man’s life can fall apart in an instant…
Tougher than oxhide, Lachlan Wallace can take about anything except a breakup call from his wife two minutes before competing in the Karate Championship of the World. Arriving home with a loss, he agrees to watch his uncle’s cat over the holidays. Or so he thinks—until he awakes on a fourteenth-century battlefield beside a woman fighting for her life.
Never underestimate a woman’s determination…
Taken from her at the age of two, Lady Christina de Moray hasn’t seen her son in thirteen years. While traveling with Robert the Bruce’s army to exchange an English prisoner for the lad, a battle erupts. Losing the fight, Christina is rescued by a mysterious warrior while the English escape with her son yet again.
And never bet against the potency of passion…
Left with no way back to the twenty-first century, Lachlan agrees to help Christina rescue the lad from his English captors. If the heir is not returned by Christmas next, the Bruce will make his decision whom to grant the de Moray lands, including Lady Christina’s hand. Once his duty is fulfilled, Lachlan hopes to discover a way home—as long as he keeps his mind on the goal and ignores his growing love for the spirited woman who gives him her trust—and her heart.
Other Books by Amy Jarecki
Highland Defender Series (becoming Lords of the Highlands Series):
The Fearless Highlander
The Valiant Highlander
Hachette/Forever Publishing is carrying on with a new Jacobite series!
LORDS OF THE HIGHLANDS
The Highland Duke (March 28, 2017)
The Highland Commander (June 27, 2017)
The Highland Guardian (Dec. 19, 2017)
Guardian of Scotland Time Travel Series
Rise of a Legend
In the Kingdom’s Name
The Time Traveler’s Christmas
Highland Dynasty Series:
Knight in Highland Armor
A Highland Knight’s Desire
A Highland Knight to Remember
Highland Knight of Rapture
Highland Force Series:
Captured by the Pirate Laird
The Highland Henchman
Beauty and the Barbarian
Return of the Highland Laird (A Highland Force Novella)
And another contemporary romance you might enjoy:
Virtue ~ A Cruise Dancer Romance
If you enjoyed The Chihuahua Affair, we would be honored if you would consider leaving a review. ~Thank you!
About the Author
Amazon bestselling author, Amy Jarecki, resides in southwest Utah but received her MBA from Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh, Scotland. Winning multiple writing awards, she loves to write romance novels and is happy to announce that in 2017 she is moving to a new publisher, Hachette Book Group’s Grand Central/Forever.
Amy loves hearing from her readers and can be contacted through her website at www.amyjarecki.com.
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