Chapter Twenty-Two

Twenty-two

L ulled by the rocking jolt of the horse beneath her belly, Prudence slipped in and out of consciousness.

When the rocking stopped and the rough hand anchored at the small of her back vanished, she started awake. A rush of disorientation was replaced by creeping dread as she remembered what had happened. All of her fears flooded back, intensified by the blurry darkness, the cold, and the brusque cadences of strange masculine voices.

Her hand went instinctively to the chain around her neck. Mercifully, her spectacles were still there, tangled in her hair.

She slipped them on. A ragged Highlander squatted before a pile of brush. He glanced at the horse and caught her somber gaze. A leering grin twisted his mouth. The first crackle of flames sent light spilling over his face, illuminating a puckered slit where his nose should have been. The man gave a menacing rumble of laughter as Prudence flung herself off the horse.

She hit the ground running. The formidable dark shapes of Highlanders and trees blended as she fled from one cluster of men to the next, searching for Tricia or Devony. Mocking laughter followed her. Fires sprang up in the clearings between the trees, throwing an eerie web of shadow and light over the bandits' camp. She stumbled over a rolled blanket, biting back a shrill scream before realizing the hand that clutched her ankle was only a gnarled branch. She spun around and crashed into a broad chest.

A burly ogre caught her elbows and wet his lips with a hearty smack. A patch covered his right eye. "Miss me, darlin'? Big Gus was comin' right back. I wanted to get our blankets spread. A pretty wee thing like ye shouldn't have to sleep on the ground."

A man behind Big Gus guffawed. He jerked his thumb toward a gaping hole in the hillside covered by a tattered fur curtain. " He won't like it. Ye'd best tell him afore ye go spreadin' anythin'."

Prudence wouldn't have thought it possible, but Big Gus's expression turned even uglier. "Curse the bugger, Jordy. He was too damned drunk to go raidin' with us. Does he think he's goin' to just lay back and enjoy the spoils?"

"No," another man said. "He thinks the spoils are goin' to just lay back and enjoy him." He sniggered nervously.

Big Gus's good eye narrowed to a venomous slit. Prudence twisted around, following his sullen gaze to the cavern. The faint light of a lantern within gave it an unearthly glow.

Big Gus captured Prudence's hand in one of his scarred paws and tucked it under his arm. The butt of his pistol dug into her ribs. "To hell with the pretty lad. I caught this wee English lass and by God, I'm keepin' her."

Prudence's flight through the camp had gathered them quite an audience. At Big Gus's bold announcement, men who had been gaping quickly bent to unfold their blankets or spear a chunk of dried venison over the fire. But they could not stop their furtive glances toward the cavern.

Prudence did not care to meet the man within. Any man these savages considered more threatening than Big Gus must be Lucifer himself.

She took a deep breath. "Excuse me, sir." She tugged at Big Gus's fingers. "Sir, I must request a word with you."

He rumpled her hair, tossing a wink over his shoulder at the man behind him. "Ain't she sweet? I love an eager lassie."

She ducked from beneath his hand and drew herself up to her full height. "I am not an eager lassie. I am Prudence Walker, the Duchess of Winton, and the betrothed of Laird Killian MacKay of Strathnaver. If you will send a missive to him, I am certain he would be willing to post a substantial ransom for the safe return of myself and my party."

"Gus, I'm warnin' ye. He'll have yer throat for it," Jordy said.

Big Gus only grinned.

Prudence shook a finger under his bulbous nose. "I must warn you also, Mr. Big Gus. There will be severe repercussions should harm come to any of us."

"The lass is warnin' me. I think I'm in love." He chucked her under the chin. "Don't fret, me wee Prudie. The rest of yer party is bein' taken care of. Just like Big Gus's goin' to take care of ye. I won't even leave any bruises for yer fancy laird to find on his weddin' night."

The besotted bandit threw open his burly arms, enveloping Prudence in a greasy bear hug.

His jaw went slack. His arms dropped. But it wasn't until he inched backward that the other men could see why.

The barrel of his own pistol was rammed into the plump cushion of his belly.

Prudence's voice was as firm and unflinching as her grip on the pistol. "It would be very disagreeable for me to have to shoot you. I'd rather you tell me where I might find the rest of my party."

Big Gus tried to clear his throat and failed. "I was only funnin', little lassie. Big Gus wouldn't hurt ye."

She cocked the pistol. The click reverberated through the silent camp. "This is a new redingote. I should hate to get it all bloody."

Big Gus raised his hands in surrender and took a step away. Prudence caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye and swung the pistol in a wide arc. "I wouldn't try it if I were you," she warned.

The men moved back as if hinged together, and ex changed uneasy glances. Prudence's grace in handling the weapon did not go unnoted. It rested in her net-gloved hand as comfortably as a satin reticule.

"That's right," she said. "I was born handling a pistol. My father was a—"

"Munitions expert?"

The soft voice sent a jolt of shock down her spine. She jerked her head toward the cavern as a man emerged, pushing aside the fur curtain with lazy grace. Her heart lurched into a wild beat. His worn silk mask did nothing to hide the faintly amused quirk of his well-shaped lips. Long, thick lashes veiled his sparkling eyes.

Prudence's shoulders slumped in relief. Her arm dropped and the gun wavered. Then a shadow moved behind Sebastian. A sinuous arm twined around his waist, and a tousled blond head peered around his shoulder with feline curiosity. Prudence caught a glimpse of a small, fine-boned hand clutching a whisky bottle, blue eyes half closed in sensual languor, pink lips moist and swollen. She had found the first member of her poor, unfortunate party—Devony.

Her gaze shifted back to Sebastian. The glow of the firelight threw his figure into aching relief. His sandy hair was tousled. His shirt hung open. The first two buttons of his breeches were undone as if in invitation to the line of golden hair that spilled down the muscular plane of his abdomen.

He crossed his arms over his chest, rocked back on his heels, and gave Prudence his sweetest smile.

Her arm steadied and swung around with a life of its own, pointing the pistol straight at Sebastian's heart.