Stealing the Bride by Mary Wine

thick cartridge pleating of her skirt until he was cupping one side of her bottom through the soaking wet fabric of her dress. Her cheeks suddenly heated up, chasing the chill of the water away.
    “Ye might find that having my hand on yer bottom is something enjoyable, sweet Elspeth.”
    His voice was low and husky, hunger returning to his expression, but it didn’t last. His gaze suddenly shifted to her head and he released her to pluck something from her hair. A broken twig with leaves still glistening with water was tossed to the ground.
    “Even if it sounds strange, considering we’re both soaking wet, I think we could use a bath.”
    “Aye.” She suddenly felt as if there was sand beneath her corset, being ground into her skin with every rise and fall of her chest. “But where are we?”
    Hayden looked up, turning to scan what could be seen. Nothing but rocky hillsides surrounded them. He grasped her hand and pulled her along behind him as he climbed up the steep slope of the riverbed where the earth had been carried away by the rushing water. Clumps of grass were perched on the edge, their roots the only thing holding them in place because the soil had been washed out in a wide bend sometime in the recent days. The river had changed course only recently, proving that fate had smiled on them today.
    “Well, we’re some fair distance from Leask Tower.”
    A pounding began on the other side of the hill. The hand holding hers tightened and Hayden forced her behind him.
    “Get back over the bank until I know who is riding this way.”
    His voice was edged in hard command now. The tone of a man who expected to be obeyed.
    Elspeth didn’t get a chance to do as he ordered. Horses made the crest of the hill, their noses flaring from being ridden hard. Elspeth gasped as she recognized the horses carried men who wore the colors of the Dalry clan. They pulled up on their reins, turning their heads to stare at them.
    “It would be Dalry retainers.”
    “Are ye feuding with the Dalry clan?”
    Hayden drew in a stiff breath as the horses began moving again, this time bearing down on them. There were only a dozen of them, but that was far too many for the single sword strapped to Hayden’s back.
    “The Dalry clan keeps close with the English, too close for my comfort.”
    Which was as bad as feuding. A lump swelled up in her throat but she forced it down. This was no time to lose her nerve. There was part of her that wanted Hayden to approve of her, and that did not include cringing in the face of his adversaries.
    “Well now, is this the man that didna invite me up to his fine castle?”
    “Does that mean ye’d be interested in me marrying yer sister, Pherson?” Hayden’s voice didn’t quiver, it was full and brassy. Pherson Dalry leaned down and patted the neck of his stallion while studying Hayden with eyes as blue as the ocean. His men all smirked, enjoying the moment full well.
    “Ye’d be lucky to have a Dalry bride.” Thick pride coated Pherson’s voice. Even sitting atop the horse it was evident that he was a large man. His gaze shifted to her and Hayden’s grip tightened.
    “Young Leask, ye are off yer land.” He frowned. “And wearing enough dirt to plant in, too.”
    “One of the children went too close to the river.”
    The Dalry retainers all frowned, becoming serious. Hope flickered to life inside her. At least it looked as if their clan colors didn’t matter when it came to the life of a child.
    “So I had to fetch her out and got swept into the current myself. Laird Monroe had to pull me out.”
    “Well, that’s a bit of pleasant news.” Pherson didn’t join his men in smiling in response to her tale. His eyes narrowed and Hayden stiffened.
    “So we’ll be leaving and getting back onto Leask land.” She took one step and heard the sound of swords being drawn from their sheaths. Hayden pulled his too, and stepped in front of her, his wider frame shielding her. Horror flooded her as