Highland Avenger by Hannah Howell Page B

Brian decided. There was no one else who appeared to be leading the men. Some women might consider the man handsome, but his voice and manner would be enough to make most men want to kill him. The way the men eyed Amiel when the man was not looking their way told Brian that Lord Lucette was lucky to still be alive. Brian suspected only the man’s alliance with the DeVeaux was accomplishing that miracle.
    Everything about the man was thin or narrow, although Brian knew that did not have to mean that the man was some weakling. His hair was black and shoulder length, pulled back from his long, narrow face. There was a sullen curve to the man’s full lips as well. He had the look of a spoiled child.
    “I cannot understand how they keep slipping through our fingers,” muttered Lucette, halting Sir Anton’s attempt to slip away. “These barbarians should not be able to thwart us so.”
    It was a good thing he was speaking in French, Brian thought, or he would be dead. That sort of sneering insult was very akin to what many English aristocrats were fond of saying. Since Scotland and France had been allies more than enemies for many, many years, it surprised him that there was such distaste for his people among the French aristocracy. But then, most of the time all they wanted was extra men to fight their battles and to keep their old enemy the English beleaguered at home.
    “This is their land, Lord Lucette,” replied Sir Anton. “And their skill at fighting is well known, my lord. They have long made up some of our mercenary force.”
    “As arrow fodder so that good Frenchmen might stand back until it is safer. No, this puzzles me. I also think it was wrong for us to divide the men. We only need to catch hold of one of the men helping that bitch and my brother’s get and that one would soon tell us where the boys are.”
    “Why should they? This is not their fight and they gain nothing from it.”
    “So why should they fight or die for either that red-haired bitch or those two common little whelps?”
    “They may feel it honorable to assist a woman and two children.”
    Lucette waved a heavily beringed hand, sniffed the tankard of wine the maid gave him, and wrinkled his long nose in a clear sign of disgust. “I should not be so surprised that there is no good wine in this heathen land. If we had gained hold of Lady Arianna or one of the boys upon the beach, we would soon have had the lot in our hands. Those men would bargain with us. The message we received from Lord Ignace said this MacFingal clan has little money and is known to be very odd. That wench has no coin to pay them, does she? What coin she may have stolen from my family is undoubtedly at the bottom of the sea.”
    “No, she has no coin but she is very pretty.”
    “Not so pretty that one of these savage fellows would not turn her over to us for a nice, full purse. My brother certainly did not find her worth much in bed or he would have left that slut he married. Her dowry was a hefty one though, although this mess Claud left behind could cause the Murrays to demand it returned. And that is another good reason to see that she does not return to her family.”
    Lucette badly needed killing, Brian decided, and had to fight the temptation to try and fulfill that wish. He began to get a clearer idea of what Arianna’s life had been like with the Lucettes, and it was not good. Things she had said had let him know it had not been a happy time for her, but listening to this fool talk made it all chillingly clear. She had never been accepted.
    “I will settle the men, m’lord. After a good night’s rest, we can begin the hunt again. We should also have word from at least one of the other groups soon. I will send a man to the meeting place to see if word has come. If one of the others has managed to find the boys, we could end this and go home.”
    “Only the boys? Your lord wishes to catch the woman, too. I thought you knew that. His family is eager to pay