Ravished by a Highlander by Paula Quinn Page A

Davina. She had been in the Abbey.
     He knew it for certain because he had recognized her blue feathered arrow tip clutched in the Highlander’s fist just before
     he…
    MacGregor.
    For the first time since dawn broke, a flicker of hope sparked in Edward’s heart when he remembered the giant warrior. Had
     MacGregor saved her? He had not seemed interested in doing so when Edward beseeched him, but he looked fit enough to finish
     off what was left of Monmouth’s men and canter off with the prize. Was it possible that his Davina still lived and was safe?
     Where would MacGregor have taken her? His belly heaved as the stench of burning flesh and hair filled his lungs. He gritted
     his teeth and imagined her smile to keep from retching. She had smiled at him often, those huge, glorious eyes going soft
     with affection, melting his very bones. He knew she wasn’t in love with him, but that had never stopped him from loving her
     with his whole heart.
    Sometime later, Hendrick returned to the courtyard with news of his discovery. There were bodies in the chapel but all were
     burned beyond recognition.
    “I’ve no interest in what they looked like, Hendrick, you fool, since I’ve never seen the girl. Tell me, how many bodies did
     you find?”
    “Hard to tell, sir, but Edgar counted six and twenty.”
    Edward could almost hear Gilles deducing that somehow Davina had escaped. His heart sank even before the Admiral spoke again.
    “Let us finish here. We will search for tracks in the morning.”
    How long ago had it been since Edward heard those last words? Ten sickening breaths or fifty? He’d heard them taking to their
     mounts and leaving. He was sure of it. Or was it just the thumping of his heart? It didn’t matter. He had to find Davina before
     Gilles did. He opened his eyes slowly. One, and then the other, only to close them an instant later, burning and tearing from
     the acrid smoke. He allowed himself to cough, and then he retched until every muscle and joint in his body ached. Pushing
     himself to his feet, he searched, as best he could, among his fallen men until he found a sword.
    He had failed her, but perhaps God was giving him another chance to save her life. He turned toward the gates. He did have
     a slight advantage. Gilles and his men would have to wait until morning to find any tracks. Edward didn’t need them—at least
     not yet. He knew who had taken her, and Highlanders lived in the north.
    Rob woke the next morning to the sound of Will’s cheerful account of the time he and Rob raided the MacPherson holding with
     Rob’s younger brother, Tristan, and Connor Grant. It wasn’t a tale fit for a lady’s ears… or a soon-to-be nun’s. He’d nearly
     sighed out loud with regret when she told him she was an orphan raised in the convent and not some rich Englishman’s daughter.
     Was she truly a novice? Had her life been given over to God?
    If it had, she gave no indication of it during Will’s interpretation… so far. She appeared unfazed while she sat with Colin
     and Finn, nibbling on the last remaining berries they’d picked the night before.
    “We were almost away free wi’ half a dozen cattle when Tristan spotted Brigid MacPherson and her six sisters traipsin’ across
     the glen on their way home from their mornin’ bath.”
    Finn smiled and Colin swore under his breath, both deducing where the tale was heading and each sharing a very different opinion
     on it.
    “I suspect,” Will continued, “the MacPherson gels recognized their faither’s livestock, but hell, ye lads know that Tristan
     has a way wi’ lasses that makes them ferget, or no’ care aboot anything else.”
    “Aye,” said Finn, his voice tinged with veneration. “I vow one smile from Tristan could steal the heart of even the king’s
     mistress.”
    “’Tis true,” Will laughed, “and the MacPherson lasses were nae different. Why, I swear on m’ sword, it took less than ten
     breaths fer Brigid to strip