The Highland Laird's Bride. Nicole Locke

this, Bram looked like the warrior he was reputed to be.

      She felt a fluttering in her stomach and her skin flushed. But was it from hunger or fear? It couldn’t be fear. Her father had been a giant of a man and had ruled the keep with intimidation and punishments. When he loomed over her, never once had she felt this sort of helpless breathlessness before. It must be from hunger.

      Bram shook his head. ‘Not worried for me. You’re worried for your tunnel. Why is there a tunnel and room beneath your bedroom?’

      He didn’t need to know about the tunnel, or the empty storage room beneath. He didn’t need to know this wasn’t her bedroom. All he needed to know was—

      The door burst open. Bram, ready to fight, leapt in front of the bed.

      Two muddy boys were chased into the room by an older girl. Lioslath’s gasps of surprise and anger were drowned by the girl’s shrieking. Gleeful, the boys taunted the girl until they were all fully around the bed. Just as the boys swerved to run out again, they spied Bram.

      ‘The giant outside the gates!’ the littler boy cried, dashing out of the room.

      Bram lunged for the door to trap the other two inside, then turned to face his captives.

      Curiously, the children hadn’t run to Lioslath for protection. Instead, they stood on the other side of the bed, their hands locked together.

      Unlike the boys, the girl’s appearance was immaculate. Her hair was freshly brushed and a rudimentary ornament held back tiny plaits around her face. Her dress was thin, overly mended and far too short for her, but it was clean. As was the girl herself, except for one long drip of mud from her left cheek that stretched down and along her gown.

      The boy standing next to her looked as though he’d emerged from a mud puddle; the girl looked as though she’d never seen a mud puddle.

      There were now witnesses to his being inside the keep. He didn’t know who they were, but he suspected.

      Lioslath stood when he closed the door. She looked as though she’d never seen the children before, but there was no mistaking their similarities. The children had brown hair with golden highlights, but their eyes were Lioslath’s.

      She waved to the children. ‘Leave now!’

      ‘I think it’s too late for that.’ Bram heard footsteps. This would not go well.

      ‘Are you smiling?’ she choked out.

      Bram stepped aside before a man stormed into the room with the littler boy at his heels. When the man saw Bram, he brandished his axe.

      ‘Aindreas!’ Lioslath cried.

      ‘Get away from her!’ Aindreas bit out.

      Lioslath’s embarrassment over fainting was now swamped by frustration and fury and a helplessness she’d never felt before that made it all worse. Too late she realised that when Bram stepped away from the door, he’d stepped towards her. It only reinforced the damage done.

      She felt like kicking Bram, shouting at Aindreas and shoving the children out the door, but she could do none of it. She was trapped.

      ‘Are you harmed?’ Aindreas kept his eyes on Bram.

      ‘Nae harmed—merely plagued.’

      ‘What is he doing here, Lioslath?’ Aindreas asked. ‘How did he get here?’

      Neither question could she answer and already she saw the children’s comprehension that Bram was inside the keep, though the gates were closed. ‘It’s not as it seems,’ she said.

      ‘Not as it seems!’ Aindreas almost roared. ‘He’s in your—’

      ‘The children!’ she interrupted.

      Aindreas clenched his jaw as his eyes, warning of retribution, returned to Bram. ‘Did you harm any?’

      ‘Nae harm and I came alone,’ Bram said calmly, yet there was no mistaking the silent challenge in his words. Lioslath and Aindreas had observed Bram training his men. He was daunting from afar, now, up close, he was formidable.

      ‘Why are you here?’ Aindreas said.

      ‘That is between Lioslath and me,’ Bram said.

      ‘Not while I have breath in my body, Colquhoun. You are leaving. Now.’

      ‘Why would I do that?’ Bram said.

      Aindreas raised the axe again, his stance widening. He was skilled in axe throwing, but Bram stood too near to Lioslath and her siblings were here. He couldn’t throw it and he couldn’t attack. They all knew it, but Aindreas looked as though he was beyond caring.

      ‘He will go now,’ she said. ‘He knows by staying the consequences will be dire.’

      ‘You’re unwell,’ Bram said.

      Did he think her a fool to believe that he stayed because of that? ‘I have care now,’ she pointed out.

      Something about Bram’s demeanour said he didn’t like that. ‘Nae good enough. We need to negotiate.’

      ‘You’ll negotiate,’ Aindreas said, ‘only at the end of my axe.’

      Lioslath knew it was up to her to end this. The room was brightening with the rising sun. She could hear people waking and she needed no witnesses to her fainting embarrassment.

      ‘Aindreas, you need to leave and take the children.’ She turned. ‘And you three need to keep quiet.’

      ‘Nae!’ Aindreas waved his axe. ‘He’s trapped. We can use him to barter. We have an advantage.’

      ‘Do you truly?’ Bram said, amusement lacing his words.

      Lioslath’s insides roiled. Did he find nothing serious?

      No, he did. She’d been watching him all these weeks, and Bram was Laird Colquhoun and a warrior in every sense. The years, the authority and the training were ingrained in the way he held himself. Even without a weapon, he was too worthy a foe. And his all-too-knowing smile that belied a friendly easiness told her he wouldn’t leave here quietly.

      Her siblings, for once, remained still, but they were not silent. Increasing her alarm, they held hands and whispered something between them.

      ‘Aindreas, go, please. Keep them quiet and nae harm will come to me. I’ll converse with Laird Colquhoun and we can end this.’

      ‘Alone? You expect me to leave a man in your room alone?’

      ‘I was alone with her before we were interrupted,’ Bram said.

      Lioslath’s breath left her lungs. ‘Mere moments and unwanted! Aindreas, only we know he is here. If we delay much longer, this cannot be kept secret!’

      Aindreas eased his axe hold. ‘To negotiate?’

      She nodded. ‘I trust this to you.’

      Aindreas lowered his axe and nodded. ‘I’ll take them to the courtyard outside the Hall’s door. Nae more.’

      It was the most she could ask.

      ‘Wait,’ Bram said, turning to the children. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.

      ‘This isn’t necessary,’ Lioslath interrupted.

      ‘I won’t go,’ Bram said. He meant it.

      Her siblings visibly twitched, but Eoin and Fyfa faced this intimidating man with their chins stubbornly set. She’d seen them like this when facing her, but never with someone they should fear.

      ‘Did you... Did you hurt her?’ Fyfa asked, a fierceness to her eyes.

      ‘Nae,’ Bram said, ‘but it’ll hurt your sister if I stay.’

      Aindreas made some sound, while Lioslath tried not to reveal her surprise at her siblings’