Captured by a Laird by Loretta Laird Page A

implanted in her, so she knew the name Gavin Haigh and all of the horrors that those two words conjured up. Terrorising the land, his very name stilled the hearts of highlanders and lowlanders alike. He took without morality, raided without reason, and killed without cause. Lena’s own clan had lost a few souls to his ruthlessness, but tales more horrifying had reached her borders. Maidens were taken, raped and then left for dead; hung on stakes outside his unholy dwelling. Daughters of clans were his speciality. He targeted them to ensure the loyalty of neighbouring crofts. Just the threat of his arrival, was enough for doting fathers to declare their allegiance to save their offspring from the torment that defiance may bring.
    Lena’s father had not been immune. He had lost countless men, as well as seen women subjected to the horrors of rape. Lena dared not think about what may be in store for her if she fell into his malicious hands.
    By the soft candlelight, Lena looked for the first time on the features of the man whose very name conjured fear and loathing. He sat hunched over in a chair. The lump that caused the shape of his posture, protruded from beneath his woollen tunic. His face was drawn up in a permanent sneer, caused by a long scar that ran from his left eye down to the corner of his mouth. Exposed teeth were brown, and gaps remained where teeth may once have been. His skin was pale, yet his hair appeared dark as cinder. He regarded her with interest, ignoring the vain attempts of Anna to gain his attention.
    Lena held the fur fast in her hands, ready to spring. She knew she could knock the silly girl out of her way and be on Haigh in seconds. With the cloth around his neck, she would just need to hold on until the air left him and he was rendered unconscious. The open door would then be her escape route.
    “Your father is responsible for the scar you seem intent of viewing,” Haigh interrupted her scheming.
    Her shocked intake of breath caused Haigh to chuckle.
    ‘Oh yes, I know who you are. Anna recognised you at once and got word to me. A few years ago I saw you. You were too young for me to bother with then, but your rare beauty is hard to forget. I owe your kin a debt of revenge for my disfigurement. Hell bent on protecting his own people, he was, and now I see why. Such a prize as you was worthy of his efforts. ‘Tis a shame you have no such champion to fight for you today,” he sneered.
    “I need no champion,” Lena fired up at the mention of her father. She flew from the bed with a battle cry and leapt to the chair, encircling the scrawny neck of Haigh in her noose. Her hip sent Anna tumbling to the ground, extinguishing the candle with her billowing skirts. Holding it tightly around him, Lena felt his initial struggle fading fast. She could not risk releasing her hands as she pulled with all her might, waiting for the telltale signs of suffocation. The thump on the back of her head was unexpected and right on the tender part that still bore the pain of Stref Harris’ blow.
    Anna stood over her fallen figure, the candlestick still grasped between her two hands.
    Through the fog of her consciousness, Lena felt the spittle and smelt the rancid breath of her abductor.
    “You will pay for that, lassie. Make no mistake about it,” Haigh hissed.
    Bony hands pulled at her clothing, and Lena felt a clammy touch on her thigh. It travelled up her leg and pushed at the edges of her undergarments. A long finger jabbed threateningly at her womanhood, scratching at her tender folds.
    “What use is she when you could have a real woman,” Lena heard Anna’s petulant voice.
    She froze as Haigh snapped out his orders. “Come whore, we must get back to my men. Harris will soon return, and I want to get a good few leagues ahead of his wrath.”
    Lena was aware of two pairs of hands pulling her weight between them. She forced her eyes open to see Anna ushering them out of the keep by a back door next to the